Read Online Destiny Calling by Maureen L. Bonatch - Free Book Online Page B

and Drake, I’d encountered yet another peculiar man.
    My wet shoes squeaked against the tile in the narrow aisles. With my dwindling funds and the strange man staring at me, I cut my shopping short. I tried to catch his eye, but he averted his gaze, pretending to concentrate on the different brands of toilet paper. With two brands to choose from, he was either the worst decision maker in the world or a terrible stalker. I was betting on the latter.
    I still wasn’t sure what Ruthie meant about being able to tell the difference . Everyone in this town seemed a bit different, to say the least. Although seeing black fog accompanied by crushing despair clinging to many of the people living here and Ruthie declaring herself a witch did make them appear different than I was accustomed to.
    With my bags in one hand, I opened the door a few inches to survey the parking lot. Neither Griffith nor Drake were anywhere in sight. When they’d started their testosterone stand-off, I should’ve gone directly to my car and back to Ruthie’s, but I refused to let them scare me. I was made of stronger stuff, or at least I hoped I was.
    Running my arm over the trunk to brush the accumulated snow aside before I popped it open didn’t prevent some from falling in with the bags I tossed inside.
    “Hello, don’t I know you?”
    I spun around. The man from the store stood a foot away. In my preoccupation with Griffith and Drake, I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. He needed to learn something about personal space.
    “I don’t think so.” I shut the trunk and started toward the driver’s side, shaking off the snow clinging to my coat sleeve.
    “Wait, don’t go, yet.” He held his palm up. “Please, I need to talk to you.”
    He looked harmless, kind of like a big kid. After he ran his hand through his already unruly hair, pieces stood up at odd angles. I resisted the urge to smooth it into place. His other hand clutched a bag of groceries. I glanced at his bag. No toilet paper, as suspected. Either that was a ruse, or he must have a difficult time deciding between types of ply.
    I hesitated. He seemed innocent enough with his lop-sided grin. But then again, I’d watched far too many of those television shows where neighbors of serial killers start by saying, He was such a nice, quiet guy.
    But I didn’t know Ruthie either, and I’d moved right into her lair. For all I knew, she had a whole coven living downstairs waiting to use me as a human sacrifice.
    I’d survived this long in life on my instincts. I was done running.
    He extended his hand. “I’m Chance.” The smile he gave me could melt butter.
    I kept my car keys in my free hand, ready to use them as a weapon, if necessary. At least that’s what all those self-defense emails always recommended. Seems you’d have to get pretty close to poke with a key, and it wouldn’t do much but irritate your attacker.
    I tried to remember what it said—something about going for the eyes. I wasn’t certain I could stick a key into someone’s eye, then pop it out and use it to drive my car, not with eye goo adhering to the key. But I guess it would depend on how much peril I was in.
    He was still holding his hand out. I looked at his hand and then to him. No black fog, floating gray lights or desperation clinging to him, only a friendly smile.
    Here goes nothing.
    I clasped his hand, and waited. Nothing. I didn’t feel anything. His gaze locked on me. Staring, unblinking with green eyes that looked a lot like my own, he said, “You ought to come meet my sister. I think you’d like her.”
    I pulled my hand back. My unease grew with the way he talked to me, so slowly and deliberately, as if trying to hypnotize me. He reminded me of Griffith without the patting and the sparkling fog. “Sure, maybe another time.” I edged the rest of the way to the driver’s door without turning my back. His eyes were too pretty to poke with a key.
    “Wait, don’t leave.” He looked baffled