Destiny Calls by Samantha Wayland (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📗

ought to start with you.” She looked up into his eyes, hopeful. “Does that make sense?” She dropped her gaze again. “Maybe I"m not making sense,” she sighed, defeated.

“No, you"re making sense. I understand,” Bobby offered, leaning over the table to pat her hand. “I forgive you. I must. Matthew laid out for us the prayer to our Father and in it he says, „For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you."”

Destiny risked cutting him off, finishing one of the only verses she knew in the entire Bible. “But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

Bobby was clearly delighted with her.

She was going to have to go to Aunt Ethel"s grave and take back every bad thing she"d ever said about being forced to go to five o"clock Mass on Saturday nights with Patrick before they could go out and have fun.

“You are on the path,” he said, surprise ringing in his voice. “You walk with Jesus.” She nodded, her eyes wide. Bobby continued to smile at her like a teacher regarding his prized pupil and she ducked her head.

Gotcha, asshole.

Then she burst into tears.

Brandon started for the door the moment Destiny began to cry. Her first sob, though, stopped him in his tracks. Her second had him blocking the door from the eight other people prepared to barge through it and save her.

She was totally faking it.

Destiny might be a kick-ass marketing executive, but she"d missed her true calling as an actress. He remembered the first time she"d been pulled over for speeding. By the 184

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time she was done, the officer had been apologizing to her. And that hadn"t even been her best performance.

This, on the other hand, was Oscar-worthy.

Turning back to the window, he stilled her restless audience with a silent request to wait. She had them all fooled. Even Ellen Spencer. But none more than Bobby Wilkinson.

The poor nutjob appeared completely flummoxed by the hysterical woman before him. If Brandon hadn"t been ready to beat him to a pulp, he might have found sympathy for the stupid slob as he awkwardly patted Destiny"s hand. His efforts to console her were pathetic.

“I"m sorry. I"m so sorry. Look at me going on like that!” She wiped her eyes on Ellen"s sleeve and offered Bobby a watery smile, her hand coming to rest on her stomach. “I"m just having such a hard time right now. Trying to do what"s right. For me and the baby.”

Brandon almost swallowed his tongue.

Fuck the Oscar, she was going to get the Academy"s Lifetime Achievement Award.

Bodies moved restlessly behind him and he considered explaining. Fuck it. He was transfixed by her performance, some part of his brain churning on the idea of Destiny having his or Patrick"s baby. His and Patrick"s babies.

A fierce and unexpected longing lodged like a fist in his chest.

“Baby?” Bobby choked out, for the first time looking genuinely alarmed. Brandon hoped like hell guilt was working its way into Bobby"s black heart. Destiny was a genius.

She nodded sadly. “I made a mistake. But I"ve been trying to live a better life. I truly have. And Patrick, he said he was going to marry me. Do the right thing, you know?” Her voice hitched and she glanced up at Bobby. Brandon could just imagine those big brown eyes brimming with tears. The expression on Bobby"s face would have been comical in other circumstances. “I don"t know what I"m going to do if we can"t find him, Bobby. How can I raise this baby alone? Without a father? How can I explain to Momma that I"m pregnant and have no husband?”

Brandon"s lips twitched. Momma? Last he knew, Destiny addressed the woman who had given birth to her as Carole.

Destiny may have been laying it on thick, but their friend Bobby was practically licking it up. He squirmed in his chair, staring at the Bible in his hand, his expression a mask of confusion.

Destiny watched him closely, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face, then returning to desperate in the blink of an eye. Brandon was suddenly very grateful he was one of the two people on earth who could tell when Destiny was up to no good.

Leaning forward, she put her hand over one of Bobby"s.

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The young zealot nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes met Destiny"s, caught like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

“Please, Bobby. Please help me find Patrick. He"s a good man. He loves me and I know he"ll love this baby. Don"t take him away from us. I"ll make sure he lives a good life. I want my son to have a father. Please, Bobby. Help me.” The silence that stretched was excruciating. Bobby swallowed hard a few times, his expression turning from fear to despair. Destiny held onto his hand, never releasing him from her wide, wet-eyed stare.

“I…” Bobby started, and the entire audience behind Brandon took a step forward.

Brandon had forgotten about everyone else in the room, they"d gone so completely silent and still.

“I…I don"t know,” Bobby said, desperate.

Destiny"s hand fell away from Bobby"s and her head dropped. She started crying again, this time the tears real. Brandon pressed a hand to the glass between them, wishing he could comfort her.

“I"m sorry,” Bobby said quietly.

Destiny nodded and began to push herself to her feet.

“You might try talking to—” Bobby stopped, clearly conflicted. Destiny stood motionless, looking down and away from Bobby.

Brandon held his breath.

“The preacher gives his sermons down in the warehouse,” Bobby blurted out quickly. “On the harbor in East Boston. Off Bay Street.” The door behind Brandon opened and the sound of feet fleeing the room couldn"t tear his eyes from Destiny. She turned back to Bobby and smiled sadly. “Thank you.” Then she looked directly at the mirror, at Brandon, and winked.

She"d done it. She"d fucking done it!

When she opened the door, those remaining in the observation room