wedbriefs badgeThis is a bit different than what I’d expected to go with, but I’m not sure where to take Second Shot just yet, so I went with something else. I’ve been toying with ideas for continuing the Purpose story line, and to be honest, I have no idea if this would be the arc I take or not, but I’m tossing out idea and seeing if I get any reaction.  For those who have read Purpose, it’s probably useful to understanding most of this, but maybe not. I’m too closely tied into my book to know for sure. In either case, here is a short concept piece so to speak, that takes place after the end of the book.

A New Beginning


It’s said, “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I’ve just never figured out who did the research. Ryan’s only been gone three days, and my heart is anything but fond of the separation. Then again, the research never considered the affect of being host to a spirit.

The logic part of me knows there is nothing to worry about. Even though Ryan’s only been a host for a short time, the Purpose has enhanced his body enough that he’s well beyond most people already. So why am I worried?

“Because it is the nature of your kind to worry.”

Some times I preferred the old days when the Purpose didn’t speak to me. “I don’t recall asking you?”

“There is no one else here, who else could it have been meant for?”

Arguing with a non-corporeal spirit never really worked in my favor. Fortunately, It never really cared if I ignored a question or comment. Of course that’s because I’m not important enough for It to care, but I’m usually grateful for the silence.

Ryan of course stewed over it. I suspect with time he’ll grow to appreciate the silence. Then again, he’s never felt the need to avenge an angry soul. I’ve learned to cherish the silence when it comes.

“Your mate is in no danger, you that is called Will.”

The first time It referred to me like that it annoyed me. Then I realized it had been an attempt to improve the interpersonal way we interacted. Now it just makes me smile.

“I know.” Speaking out loud makes it feel a bit less like I’m alone. “If he was, you’d tell me.”

“If he was, you’d feel it.”

The situation is new to all of us–Ryan, me and them–and the changing nature of things as Ryan grows stronger changes the ‘rules’ almost daily, but I have to believe It knows so much more than it’s telling me. As if It feeds me little morsels here and there, but withholds the larger cake.

“I do not understand your example.”

“Of course you don’t. You’ve never tasted really good cake.”

Even if I had, it would make no sense. Why would I withhold something I have no desire to keep for myself?”

“It’s called an analogy, not an example.” I get up off the leather couch–yes I know leather is so dated, but I still like what I like–and head for the kitchen. Our apartment is small, maybe too small for the two of us, but Ryan loved the view. It had taxed all my powers of persuasion to convince Ryan that buying made no sense. I’m not sure I’d have prevailed at the end had we not found this place.

“I understand it is what you call an analogy, but it is flawed.”

My face breaks into a smile as my eyes fall on the one-cup coffee making–the kind that uses the little cups. Decorating ‘our’ place made Ryan so happy I didn’t tell him we might need to leave it all if we were forced to move suddenly. Without thinking, I pick up a little container and roll it in my hand.

“He knows this is probably all temporary. You can always get more when you find a new home.”

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your money.” It barely feels like mine, but at least it’s there to make Ryan happy. Then it hits me. “Why did you say, ‘when’ and not, ‘if?'”

This is another aspect of the ‘new’ Purpose that annoys the shit out of me; not answering me when it doesn’t want to share. Joined as we are, there s nothing I can do to It, that wouldn’t hurt me worse.

Footsteps in the hallway alert me that Ryan is back. I had expected a call, but since I’ve missed him, I’m not going to let that ruin his return.

The tumblers move and I hear the lock turn. My apprehension seems to increase, not recede. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Fucking spirit. When I want an answer It never responds.

His head down, Ryan shuffles into our place and shuts the door. Defeated most aptly describes what I’m looking at. Something I rarely see in him.

“What’s wrong?”

Ryan’s head whips up and around until he stares at me. I can see in his face, he knows he can’t brush this off.

“We’ve got a problem.” Shoving his key into his pocket, Ryan leans back against the wall. “Barrington beat the charges at trial.”

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