My Calling (16 page)

Dagnabit!
Why did he say that he loved me again? Why did he say he’d keep me safe? I wanted to kick him out of my life forever. I want to hate him. I want to curl up in his arms and let him explain away his insane tactics so that we can go back to the way things were when he was just Beck. If I listen to my heart and do that, I’d be disloyal to myself and I’d question every day of the rest of my life with Beck as to who was really making the decisions.

Letting my heart have one small victory, I lean over and kiss him softly. Beck runs his fingers through my hair, pulling it exactly how I like and kissing me like it’s the last time he ever will… because it probably is. My hand moves to his cheek, my fingers running over his beard until I quickly pull my lips away from his. My thumb runs down the length of his nose, memorizing every detail of his face for the lonely nights ahead of me.

“Maybe one day everything will make sense but that day isn’t any time soon.”

I kiss the end of his nose then turn and open the truck door and jump out. My body takes me upstairs to my apartment without looking back because if I did, I’d be right back in Beck’s arms. As it is, I fall to my bed, sobbing yet again as I begin to mourn the loss of the second man I’ve ever loved.

CHAPTER 22

Saylor

Gah, I feel like I drank again last night. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry yet this hangover isn’t from alcohol, it’s from a broken heart and not just from the loss of Beck. My heart is breaking again over the death of my uncle. For the first time ever, my heart is breaking over the loss of my own life. Yes, I’m alive and breathing, but the life I’ve been leading hasn’t been my own at all. I’ve just been the puppet while Beck is the puppet master. I shouldn’t have been so dumb. The deja vu, his GSX tattoo, the signs were all there, I just chose to look the other way.

It disgusts me that I am who I am today, not because of the decisions I made or any of my own doing, but because of Beck. All these years, I thought things had turned out alright because Eddie was watching me from up above and maybe I’d done a few things right when in actuality, none of that was true. If I believed in God or an afterlife before, I sure as hot tamales don’t now. Eddie’s last words ring in my ears and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out that memory.

“You’re going to sail, Saylor. You’re going to do great things.”

My uncle coughs and he spits out blood. My awkward sixteen-year-old body is wrapped around him, my arms barely able to reach around his wide torso. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. If I start crying, Eddie will know I’m giving up on him and I can’t let him see that.

“Stop, Uncle Eddie! You’re fine… you’re fine…”

His eyelids get heavy as he sputters more blood from his mouth. I keep repeating that he’s fine, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. I hold him tighter, hoping that maybe I can keep him alive through osmosis, something I just learned about in biology last week.

“Say, make me proud…”

I bolt upright in my bed as a hidden memory surfaces in my brain. I’ve played this scene over and over in my head millions of times and it isn’t until now that I recall what he said next. I may have forgotten it over the years, but I know it really happened, I just didn’t think it was important until now.

“Trust, Jonathan, Saylor. He’s all you have left.”

Hearing those words, if only in memory, I let out a gasp and clutch my chest. What did my uncle mean by that? Beck and I were never close, not before Eddie died and not after. Well, in more recent days, we’ve been closer than ever but that’s beside the point. Beck was the adult between the two of us. I don’t know what all he had to take care of but it got done, Eddie got put in the ground, his garage was sold, and apparently, I inherited more money than I’ll ever know what to do with.

Sidetracked, I let my mind wander to the things I could do with the money. I don’t want a new car or fancy clothes, I don’t even want an apartment I can afford on my own. I haven’t the faintest idea how money like this even works but if I could do anything I wanted with it, I’d set up a place that could help kids like I was. Teenagers with no parents, no support, no love, and I’d give them everything Eddie gave me—a steady home life with enough faith to make each of them believe they can rule the world.

All teens really want is acceptance and love which is why so many make poor decisions. A solid ‘home’ foundation is what helps guide young adults into making right choices versus the wrong ones. I strayed. After Eddie died, I wanted love, I wanted acceptance which is why I left town and fell into my daily routine with my boss, a man I thought truly loved me. The one who told me that if I “really loved him,” I’d give him my virginity and after I did that, “if I really loved him,” I’d allow another woman in our bed. And after that, “if I really loved him,” I’d give his buddies sexual favors. It took me far too long to realize that if he really loved me, he’d have never asked me to do any of that. I woke up one morning, took a good, long look in the mirror and heard Eddie telling me to make him proud. What I was doing would’ve made him anything but proud and that’s when I found my way back “home.”

Trust, Jonathan… he’s all you have left.
Why didn’t I listen to my uncle then? Should I listen to my uncle now? After all these years, all the lies and deceptions, would Eddie still want me to trust Beck? Then, and even now, Beck is all I have left except for my rotting father sitting in the maximum prison across town. The sperm donor that ruined my life, not once, not twice, but now for a third time.

That’s it. I’m done with living my sheltered life under the helicopter of Beck. I want to live. I want to be me. I want to make my own decisions. I want to walk down the street without having to worry who's waiting for me around the corner. There’s only one way for that to happen. For the first time in a decade, I’m going to visit my father. He’s the only one who can call off his hit men. If I want to have a life, one that I can call my own, I’m going to have to beg and plead and probably offer him my first child. Either way, this ends now.

Beck

It’s the first night I’ve been in my place in weeks. The one bedroom apartment is even emptier than normal which is saying alot considering the only furniture I have is a bed, a kitchen table, and one chair. It’s empty because I’m empty. For the first time in my life, Saylor filled the void in my heart. She made me feel emotions, she made me feel love and loved which are two totally different things.

Eddie took me in, overlooked the punk kid that I was, and was helping me to become a man. He was a father figure I never had thanks to my mom and her promiscuous ways. Sure, Eddie and I loved each other but in that parental-son way. The love I have for Saylor is a burning devotion that makes me miss her when she’s right beside, comforts me when she’s away, and blows my fuckin’ mind when we’re together. I’ve always been a bit of a recluse so for me to feel that way about one woman is mind boggling in itself. 

We never uttered those words, neither of us wanted, or needed, that. We just both recognized it, even if we’d never experienced it before. I think deep down, Saylor knew her comfort level with me was deeper than we developed in just the past few, short months. It might take her some time but I feel like Eddie is telling me not to worry, she’ll come around and it’ll all be fine. I drop to my bed, already hating it because Saylor isn’t beside me. Closing my eyes, I try to recall every part of the day Eddie died.

“Saylor, watch where you’re reaching, you’re going to burn yourself,” Eddie nagged from the front end of the Harley-Davidson Street 500.

“I can’t get this little widgety thing in there if I don’t reach from— Ow!!!! Son of a biscuit eater!”

I glance up from under the hood of Eddie’s GSX and sigh. Fuckin’ kid never listens. I don’t see how Eddie has the patience to deal with her… then again, how the hell does he deal with me some days?

Eddie jumps up as soon as Saylor cuts off her sentence, leading her to the sink and rinsing water over her burn. I follow them over to the sink, listening to Eddie cajole the teenager that it wasn’t her fault and she’ll be okay. Their backs to me, I roll my eyes as I make my way to the first aid kit, pulling out the burn cream. This isn’t the first time someone’s made the same mistake as her. The water goes off and Eddie pats her arm dry before sending her my way.

The uncle kisses his niece's forehead and lowers his voice as he says, “It’s okay, Saylor. You’ll make many mistakes along the way but you’ll still sail one day.”

I stifle my laughter as I watch the thin, balding, middle-aged white man act like he’s Mr. Miyagi with his words of wisdom. Then again, I never laugh when he tells me, “Don’t be afraid, just jump, Jonathan.” The man has a thing for alliteration but his words are inspiring none the less.

The blonde sixteen-year-old stands before me, trying to look brave, but her big, wet eyes tell a different story as they gleam a pristine blue from her tears. I reach out, taking her hand in mine and flipping it upside down so I can see the injury on her forearm.

“You really did a number on yourself.” I don’t deal well with tears, hell, I suck at my people skills in general. I’m just trying to distract her so she doesn’t go full on girl mode and I stand there awkwardly in front of her, not sure what the hell to do.

“Is this going to hurt?” Saylor nods toward the cream in my hand.

I lift an eyebrow. “Honestly? Yeah, it’s going to hurt like hell.” I watch her face closely as I move my hand to her wound. She grits her teeth, clenching her jaw, and I can’t help but smile. “Feel free to cuss me out when I do this, you won’t offend me.”

Saylor and I both look up when an engine backfires outside the open door of the garage. I take the distraction and quickly rub the cream over her arm. Saylor snaps her head back to me, her eyes getting even larger, and she mutters through her clamped lips, “Mother trucker! That hurts like a son of a beach!”

Laughing, I grab a towel, wiping off my fingers and shaking my head. “Mother trucker? That’s the best you—”

BANG! BANG! This time it isn’t an engine backfiring. I know instantly that we’re under fire. Thrusting my body toward Saylor, we both fall to the ground, my body on top of hers. I roll us to the side so that I’m shielding her from the open gunfire blazing through the garage door. Saylor’s hands grip my shirt and I pull her closer to me as she starts to shake in my arms. My hand runs through her hair, trying to console her in this completely unconsolable moment.

I count to twenty after the last shot is fired and a set of tires peel out. Visually, I check out Saylor, relieved that she’s not injured any more than the burn on her arm. I sit up, pulling her with me in her zombie trance.

“Are you okay? You didn’t get hit, did you?”

Saylor shakes her head in slow motion and I lean her back against the wall behind her. Standing up, I already know Eddie’s hurt or else he would’ve already been by Saylor’s side. I see him clutching his stomach in the middle of the garage and I run to him, dropping to my knees to check on him.

“Jonathan, take care of her. Everything’s in the safe, life insurance, will, everything you two need.”

“Shut up, Eddie, we don’t need that.” I say, trying to blow off the fact that the man who turned my life around is dying.

“She’s all you have, Jonathan. Don’t screw that up.” Eddie looks in my eyes and I know his words are true. The man is dying and I have no family left except this teenager.

“Uncle Eddie!” Saylor shrieks as she runs up on us.

I’m a failure when it comes to crying chicks and any sort of sappy emotions. I bailed, I couldn’t handle Eddie dying and Saylor’s tears. I tore out of that garage on foot, thinking I could find the shooter and escape the reality behind me in the garage. Her screams followed me three blocks away and I knew there was no getaway.

I’ve never been able to shake the image of Saylor holding her dying uncle in her arms. Even more so, I’ve never been able to forget my arms wrapped around Saylor’s as she held Eddie. It was that moment that I knew Saylor was mine to protect. That Eddie was right, she was all I had left. All these years, I thought I’d been saving her from the world when in reality, she’d been my entire world not because Eddie asked me to watch over her, but because I had fallen in love with her long before I ever realized it. Eddie knew it, even on his deathbed, he knew Saylor and I were destined to be together. Fate brought me into his life and he was trying to ensure that fate kept Saylor and I together.

CHAPTER 23

Beck

Despite my better judgment, I gave Saylor the space she requested last night but I’ve been camped out at in her apartment building’s parking lot since well before dawn. Part of it is the urge to protect her from the psychopath that’s still on the loose from the call yesterday but the majority of the reason I’m here is because this is the longest I’ve gone without seeing her in the last few months. Somehow, during that time, Saylor has crept into my heart and soul, making it impossible to be away from her. Love is weird but I’m not going to deny my need for this woman. I’ll give her some space but I’ll win her over… somehow, some way.

I glance at my phone. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for work. Saylor’s Mustang sits in the same spot it’s been in for the last month. I hate being cramped up in there which is why I always insisted on driving us to work in my old beater truck, not to mention that I enjoyed how Saylor would sit right beside me in the middle seat. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, debating whether I should go knock on her door to make sure she’s okay or not.