Meeting Destiny Read Online Free PDF Page A

up on pillows, without a cast.
     
    The doctor continued, “This would normally have been two surgeries, but the damage to your leg was pretty extensive and we wanted to get the rod in right away. We’ll need you to stay off it today. Tomorrow we’ll have you try crutches and see if we need to put a frame on it for stability.”
     
    “ No cast?” I felt my senses slowing down as the sedative made its way through my bloodstream.
     
    “ The rod we inserted acts like a cast, from the inside. We’ll wait for the swelling to go down before we have you work on mobility. With any luck we may not need to put a frame on.” He laid down my chart and made his way to the door.
     
    The doctor seemed surprised as he crossed the threshold and declared, “Well - speak of the devil! We were just talking about you.”
     
    My eyes were so heavy I couldn’t keep them open. I saw someone step through the doorway in a blue uniform shirt, just as my eyes closed.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    I awoke feeling groggy again, with my throat on fire. There was a perfume fragrance that was nearly overwhelming, almost as though I were breathing in through some floral air freshener. I forced my eyes open, and this time, the light wasn’t as blinding as it had been the last time I awoke.
     
    I blinked my eyes a couple times and looked around to see if my room was empty. Seth was sitting on the visitor chair on my left, sound asleep. He was the best friend ever. I could see the worry on his face through the slumber. I reached out to touch his arm, but the tubes protruding from my arm acted like a restraint, so I wasn’t able to stretch my arm to him.
     
    I looked around the room, surprised to see bouquets of flowers lining every table top, window sill and flat surface in the room. It looked like a floral shop, all sizes of arrangements in every pastel color: pinks, yellows, oranges, their combined fragrance overwhelming. I started to count the vases: one, two, three…seventeen, eighteen! Where had all these flowers come from?
     
    The curiosity got to me, and I reached to the table on my right to see the card on the arrangement closest to me. It was from Melissa with a quick message scrawled, “I would trade with you in a minute and am still mad about the freezer.” The card warmed me knowing my ruse had kept Melissa safe.
     
    I mulled over the events of last night. As soon as the man was in the restaurant, I knew he was trouble. My body reacted to him before he even got near me. I’ve always had a sense for people, for their intentions, but never anything like last night.
     
    For as long as I can remember, I’ve always known things without proof and believed in outcomes others would never fathom. This would normally paint a picture of someone who is gullible and easily deceived. There are things that I understand that I cannot quantify, but unlike so many other personalities in the world, I do not always require proof to validate my instincts.
     
    Instincts: those elements that make the hair on your arms stand on end when danger approaches, that permit you to turn around quickly to catch a man’s gaze in a bar before he looks away. The last several years, these instincts have become sharper; I’m not certain if it is due to practice, age, hormones or what. I’m not physic or clairvoyant, just more perceptive than most.
     
    I could have handled things differently, but if I had, the results might have been dreadful. As it was, my leg may have been shot, but I wasn’t in any insurmountable pain or anything. No one else had been put in jeopardy, so I was confident that my course of action was the best option among some seriously crappy choices. I put Melissa’s card back in the holder.
     
    My throat might as well have been lined with sand paper, the pain radiating was nearly unbearable. I laughed at myself - I lose a couple quarts of blood, suffer a gun-shot wound, die a few times on the operating table and