Dreams of Destiny Pt. 06-11

John could just envision the scene. Lizzy, watching him drive away without her, stunned, and then turning on the tears and the charm.

"I was very upset and he was sweet and nice, and very understanding. He said he thought I'd had enough excitement for the moment and showed me where to freshen up. Then he put me to bed and said he'd come to see me after he got rid of his guests.

"Ill bet he did," John said sourly, not sure he wanted to hear the rest of the story."

"I was sound asleep when he came back. He brought in more champagne and snow with him. He woke me up by tickling my foot with a rose. It was so sweet. Then he pulled covers and hopped into the bed. We were very tender with each other"

"Just the way you like it, right Lizzy?" John said, sarcastically, knowing she liked a little rough play in here love making.

"Oh shut up. He had a little problem, you see, " she blushed.

"Oh Christ, John said with some satisfaction, "so Mr. Hollywood couldn't get it up, is that what you're telling me? Is that how you want to spend the rest of your life Lizzy?

"He was very embarrassed. He said he'd had a little too much champagne. But he knew what would do the trick. He just needed a little encouragement." She blushed some more.

"What kind of encouragement?," John asked tightly, thinking he knew what was coming next, but hoping he was wrong." He looked at her. " What did he want you to do?"

"Don't look at me like that," she said. His eyes were burning holes into her. "Its no big deal, really. I wouldn't want to do it all the time, but it was okay." "What?" He wanted to shake her.

"There was this other girl at the party. I'd seen her around town before. He said he found it very exciting to watch two girls kiss.. and stuff. He brought her into the room. He wanted the two of us to get together while he watched. Then he'd decide which one of us he wanted to make love to."

"Oh God Lizzy," John was disgusted by what he was hearing, "you didn't go along with it did you?"

"Well, what choice did I have?" she accused him bitterly. You were gone. So was everyone else.

"So this is all my fault?"

"Yes..., No...I don't know. But it worked out fine and it wasn't so bad. It was really rather, er, interesting if you want to know the truth. She was pretty. And he began to get hard the minute we started playing with each other"

"So who did he chose?" John asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Me, of course," she smiled her pretty smile, her eyes bright." He'd never know that the other girl had passed out cold during the little play and had been carried out of the room by Hollywood's burly body guard, to be dumped without identification at the nearest hospital with an overdose of cocaine.

"He didn't last long though, thank God, she giggled. I was worn out by the time he was ready to make love"

"Fuck, you mean."

"Whatever. He passed out afterwards and slept like a baby for eight hours even after all that cocaine. I couldn't really sleep so I got up early and took a swim. I made him a nice breakfast, too."

"Didn't work though, did it," John asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The breakfast routine. He didn't ask you to spend the day, did he. He just hustled you out of there like last night's trash, didn't he?"

"No, of course not. But he knew I had to get back here since you and I have a relationship. He got his driver to take me even 'though its Sunday and his day off." He said he knew I had some things to straighten out and that he'd give me a call in a couple of weeks."

"Oh." John said flatly. He'd never felt so betrayed. He was mad as hell and feeling dangerous. "Is that what he did. So this little act about your wanting to start over again. That's just for a 'couple of weeks' while you wait for him to come calling? What then, he asked?" His sapphire eyes were dark as midnight. He chided himself for ever giving a damn about this selfish little chit. "Well forget it, sweetie. You can't stay here. Maybe your new girlfriend will put you up," he said nastily.

"Don't be like this, John," Lizzy urged. "Don't you see? I have to stay here. I live here, for Christ's sake. All of my things are here. I get all of my calls here. I don't have enough bookings to get my own place. You know all about my finances." Lizzy was getting frightened. She knew John was as stubborn as a mule when his back was up. And boy was his back up. "Where will I go?" she pleaded with him. "Just let me stay on the couch or something until I can get myself together."

"Forget it" he repeated..

She tried another tactic. She lowered her voice seductively and looked up at him with her cat like eyes. Her lashes were long and sooty black. "John," she said, "it can't be over. Not just like that. I know you. You have very strong needs. We're great together." She reached out as if to touch the upper part of his thigh.

He jumped as if a poisonous insect had just tried to bite him and swatted her hand away.

"Don't play the whore with me, Lizzy. I'm not interested. Not after what you just told me. Go upstairs and pack a bag. Make some phone calls. You have a half hour. I'll give you ride where ever you want to go as long as its within an hour of here. If its to a bus or train station, I'll buy you a one way ticket to wherever you want to go. If its to a hotel, I'll pay for a week's stay. But that it. The end. Its finished. And I want my house and car keys. Now. He was shaking with anger by the time he finished his speech.

Lizzy looked at him wordlessly. She pulled her keys out of her purse and threw them at him. "Take them you heartless son of a bitch," she sobbed as she ran out of the room and up the stairs to what had been their shared bed room. "Just what the hell you think I'm going to be able to arrange in half an hour, I don't know."

"You should have thought of the consequences, Lizzy, before you started fucking around."

"You're going to ruin my career, John. My career," she stormed.

"Yeah right. Your career must be between your legs," he retorted. "I didn't know that about you until just now."

It had been a terrible ending to what had seemed at the start to be a promising relationship, John thought sadly, coming out of his reverie as he finished up his beer.

A striking brunette was entering the House of Horrors. It looked like she would to be the last one into the exhibit that night. He briefly thought about running up to her and offering to show her around but decided not to. She'd probably think I'm a masher or something. I'd have to show her my ID. I wonder if she dates cops?

Over the past few years John had learned that some women fell very hard for cops. Other women wouldn't give them the time of day unless they were at the other end of a 911 call. There was very little in between. Once a woman learned he was a cop things always changed. Most of his friends considered it a hazard of the job. John resented it.

A long, loud scream emanated from the House of Horrors. That sounded real, John thought. He jumped up, ready for action, his hand reaching automatically for the gun he wasn't wearing. Then he looked around sheepishly. No one else had paid a bit of attention to the scream. They must have really improved their sound effects over the year. Or else, I'm just spending too much time thinking about work.

A couple of moments passed. The hawker outside the House of Horrors announced that the exhibit was closing. John made a last minute decision to go ahead though the House, just for fun.

He walked briskly through entrance. His eyes were just beginning to adjust to the darkness when he heard another scream. It sounded like a woman. It came from somewhere above him. God damn it, he thought, that was real. He rushed forward and quickly came to the stairs that led to the second floor of the exhibit.

He took the stairs two by two, ignoring the out dated special effects which popped out here and there, intended to scare tourists. He reached the top of the stairs. What little light there was in the passage way was red and hazy. The entire tableau had a bizarre, dreamlike caste to it. His heart was pounding and blood was rushing in his ears. He heard commotion in a chamber just ahead. He paused, unsure how to proceed. He decided to proceed and rushed forward. He saw flashes of bright light as he entered the chamber. Momentarily blinded he squeezed his eyes shut...

Chapter XIII

Young Juan Rodriguez didn't know who he was or what he was doing for a second. He found himself in a courtyard angrily rubbing dirt out of his eyes. His nose was streaming with blood. He staggered for a moment, thinking he would pass out. Only little girls pass out over a punch in the nose, he told himself sternly, in English. English was, after all, first language, he thought rebelliously. He hadn't asked to be dragged to this god-forsaken island to live with his father who he knew and cared little about.

Juan was eight years old. In height he had already surpassed most boys two years older than he. His Irish blue eyes contrasted starkly with his long black hair and made him stand out even more among the brown little peasant children he played with most of the time.

He realized what had happened. Christos, he thought unhappily, another bloody fight with that little fucker they say is my half brother. If only they would let me kick the shit out of him once as he deserves, that would be the end of it. But they are all so sorry for him. And they say that because he's so much smaller than I am, I must keep my temper. He's just as old as I am, though, and has had more training in self defense. Besides, he's a sneaky shit with no morals. That's the problem. He sneaks up and attacks me and then when I defends myself he goes running to papa. Spineless jerk. So I get beaten and mamma makes a fuss over him.

This time Esteban had gone too far, though. He'd walked up of Juan with a smile, blinded him with a handful of dirt, punched him hard in the nose, and walked off laughing that creepy laugh of his.Juan wasn't going to take it this time. I might just kill him, I really might, he thought. But I have to find him first. He realized his nose was still bleeding. Dias, I think its broken, he thought sadly. He was proud of the great, classic strait nose he'd inherited from his father. He was glad for his Irish stature which served him well in fights, but thought most Irish noses he had seen were lumpy and unattractive.

He had seen a lot of Irish noses in the first six years of his life. His mother had fled with him to Ireland when he was an infant and she had learned his father's mistress was heavily pregnant. They had lived peacefully in a sleepy village by the sea in a cottage with his mother's Irish grandparents. He had been happy.

But all that had changed two years ago when his father's mistress had died unexpectedly. Juan's father had come to Ireland in search of his wife and first born son. She was needed, he insisted, to help carry on the Rodriguez tradition. Rosa had agreed to return to her husband's homeland on condition that Juan be favored over his half brother Esteban. Esteban was four months younger than Juan, but had until now been raised as first born and heir. His father had agreed.

Juan had been disgusted when he arrived at his new home. Oh, it was beautiful. A tropical island plantation. But upon his arrival he was told he had to learn to speak Spanish immediately and make friends with his little brother. Juan had taken one look at the little creep and known that they were not of the same blood.

They could not, possibly be related, he thought. The kid had curly blond hair and eyes that were almost black. He was small and wiry for his age. And he was as mean as they come. Juan had known that instinctively. As the two boys sized each other up during their first meeting, Juan could sense Esteban's hatred forming.

Esteban had reason to be unhappy, sure. He was being supplanted as first son and heir. But Esteban was younger and a bastard, after all, Juan thought, righteously. Esteban had lost his mother and Juan would have sympathized if he thought Esteban had actually had an iota of human feelings insider that wiry little body. No, Esteban only missed his mother when it suited his purposes to do so. He would play the poor orphan when he wanted something and laugh about it to Juan later. Juan wouldn't tell. Juan had been warned not to tell stories about his poor little brother.

His poor little brother was a spoiled rotten little shit heel who was, he was convinced, spawned by a snake. Esteban's whore of a mother had pulled the wool over his father's eyes but Juan knew Esteban wasn't his brother. After he had met Esteban he'd done a little childish investigating. He'd been good at it. What he had learned was very interesting. Maybe it could never be confirmed. But what he knew and what he felt made Juan uneasy and want to run the little runt off the island.

Juan fingered his sore nose and pondered the situation. Where could Esteban have slithered off to?, he wondered. It was roasting hot outside. Juan squinted into the midday sun. Drops of sweat dripped off his brow and into his eyes making them burn and tear. He closed his eyes...