Destined by Morgan Rice Page A

Why would he recognize it? It was American. And it wouldn’t exist for another two hundred years.
    With a pang of fear, Caitlin suddenly realize that all of the money she had on her would be useless.
    “Garbage,” he said, shoving it back into her hand.

    Caitlin looked over and saw with a pang of fear that they were undoing the ropes, that the boat was preparing to depart. She thought quick, reached again into her pockets, and pulled out some change. She looked down, found a quarter, and reached out and handed it to him.
    He took it, more interested, and held it up to the light. Still, though, he wasn’t convinced.
    He pushed it back into her palm.
    “Come back with real money,” he said; he also looked at Rose, and added, “and no dogs.”
    Caitlin’s mind turned to Caleb. Maybe he was there, just out of her reach, on the island of Venice, just a boat ride away. She felt furious that this man was keeping her from him. She had the money—just not his money. Plus, the boat barely looked seaworthy, and it held hundreds of people.
    Did one more ticket really make such a big difference? It just wasn’t fair.
    As he stuck the money into Caitlin’s palm, he suddenly clasped his big, sweaty hand over hers, and grabbed her wrist. He leered down and broke into a big, crooked smile, revealing several missing teeth. She could smell his bad breath.
    “If you have no money, you pay me in other ways,” he said, broadening his creepy smile, and as he did, he reached up with his other hand and touched her cheek.
    Caitlin’s reflexes kicked in, and she automatically reached up and swatted his hand away, hard, and extracted her wrist from his grasp. She was surprised by her own strength.
    He looked back at her, apparently shocked that such a small girl would have such force, and his smile turned to an indignant scowl. He hocked up something from his throat, and then spit right at her feet. Caitlin looked down and saw it land on her shoes, and was revolted.
    “You lucky I no cut you up,” he grunted at her, then abruptly turned his back and went back to untying the ropes.
    Caitlin felt her cheeks redden, as the rage overcame her. Were men the same everywhere? In every time and age? Was this a preview of what she could expect for the treatment of women in this time and place? She thought of all the other women out there, of everything that they must have had to put up with in this time, and she felt her anger grow. She felt like she needed to stand up for all of them.
    He was still bent over, untying the ropes, and she quickly leaned back and kicked the brute hard, right on his butt. The kick sent him flying over the peer, head first, right into the water, fifteen feet below. He landed with a loud splash.
    Caitlin quickly ran up the rope ramp, Rose by her side, and pushed her way onto the huge sailing ship, packed with people.
    It had happened so fast, no one, she hoped, had seen it. That seemed to be the case, as the crew pulled in the roped walkway, and the ship began to set sail.
    Caitlin hurried to the edge and looked down: she could see him splashing in the water, bobbing his head up, as he raised a fist up at the boat.
    “Stop boat! Stop boat!” the man screamed.
    His cries were drowned out, though, as hundreds of excited passengers cheered at the boat’s finally setting sail.
    One of the crew noticed him, though, and ran over to the side of the boat, following the man’s finger, as he pointed towards Caitlin.
    Caitlin didn’t wait to see what happened. She quickly ducked into the thick of the crowd, Rose at her side, ducking and weaving this way and that, until she was deep in the center of the boat, in the thick of the masses. She pushed deeper, and kept moving. There were hundreds of people crammed together, and she hoped they wouldn’t spot her, or Rose.
    Within minutes, the boat was gaining speed. After a while, Caitlin finally breathed deep. She realized that no one was coming after her, or, as far as she could