Page 80 of Destiny Reclaimed
He focused on the paragraph below the headline.
Police are looking for anyone who may know any information regarding the murder of Gabriela Novak, owner of local diner, Gabby’s Lunch.
A rush of adrenaline shot through his veins, shaking his extremities. No, it couldn’t be. He opened the paper to page two where the article continued. The air seized in his lungs, and he gasped audibly at the sight of a photo of his Protector. Though it was black and white, he could easily see her shiny blonde hair, porcelain skin, and ocean blue eyes full of life.
“What is it?” his wife asked.
He heard her question, but he couldn’t find a voice in which to answer as he stayed hidden behind the newspaper.
“Jack?”
Slowly, he set the paper on the table and pointed at the article knowing from his surprised reaction he would have to tell her something.
“How awful. Do you know her somehow?” his wife asked.
“No. I just...well it says her husband came home from a business trip and found her. As a pilot, I’m gone so much that...I just...” He pulled his gaze from his spouse and fixed it on Gabriela’s photo. “I just couldn’t imagine.”
Her arm wrapped around his shoulders, and she squeezed slightly. “No worries. I’m never alone. I have your parents and Blake to keep me company while you are away.”
Their son smiled at the mention of his name.
Gwennie leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
He lifted the paper again to conceal himself. He must have read the short article ten times, all the while wondering if the time travel they had forced had caused his Protector’s early demise, or perhaps, it was a random act.
His gut clenched—knew. It wasn’t random. He recalled her telling him forced travel was forbidden—against the rules of engagement, yet, they did it anyway.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip and temples. Had his selfishness caused her death?
Recalling his and Gabriela’s conversation about whether or not to force a travel, he reminded himself that he’d fought her on it for a while, but she convinced him it was the right thing to do. Correcting history would reclaim the rightful destiny for not only his family but the American people in general. He still didn’t know exactly what she’d meant at the time, but what he did know was that she was willing to risk her life to reclaim the rightful destiny. And in the end, had.
Knowing she went in, eyes wide open, the ending still sickened him. His Protector’s life had been cut short, too short.
Dread swirled in the pit of his stomach. This Preserver cross to bear was too much, and the last thing he wanted to do was burden his son with it someday. He made up his mind, if it was the last thing he ever did, he’d find a way out of this whole Preserver and Protector life. For the sake of his son, and his son’s sons, he’d work nonstop to find the means to an end while ensuring the rightful destiny would stay in stay in place.
He used his sleeve to wipe his brow, then returned his gaze to Gabriela’s photo. If only God would give him some sort of sign her sacrifice was worth it. That this whole Preserver and Protector life was worth the risks.
The repetitive tapping of something being pounded against the table drew his gaze from the newspaper. He’d expected to see his son banging his utensil against the wood like he sometimes did, but instead, the tiny hand gripped a small, white figurine, and tapped it against the surface.
“Blake, I’ve asked you repeatedly not to bang things against the table. Give that to me.”
His son frowned at him, not wanting to give up the toy.
“Hand it over. You know you’re not supposed to do that.”
Jack took the figurine. His heart slammed in his chest at the sight of the small angel with blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and a face that resembled his deceased Protector’s.
He choked down the obstruction that had risen in his throat. “Where did you get this from?”
His son just stared at him.
Afraid to know the answer, but needing to, he leaned closer to Blake. “It’s okay. Just tell me who gave it to you.”
He sensed Gwennie’s gaze on him but didn’t look at her. The last thing he wanted was for her to start questioning him and for him to have to lie to her to cover up his secrets.
“Pastor.”
“He got it at church last week. Pastor Milbourn stopped us at the door after the service,” his wife confirmed. “He thought Blake would like it. Her name is Ariel, and she’s his guardian angel.”
