My Calling

by Lyssa Layne

  Saylor scoffs. “I can handle myself on my own. I’m a big girl who has survived just fine. I have a job that is rewarding and satisfying. I have an apartment—” Her face goes white. “I can’t afford that apartment.”

  I shake my head. “You can’t. I make up the difference with Eddie’s money. There was no way in hell I was going to let you live in the slums you were looking at.”

  “Cheese and crackers…” she mumbles then looks up at me, her eyes blazing. “You aren’t lying. You stalked me all these years, changed the course of my life, and then you sit here and tell me that you love me like that will make everything all better and you can stick around so you can have my uncle’s money?”

  I reach for her hand, my heart thundering against my chest. “Saylor, I’m not telling you I love you for the money. I’m telling you I love you because I do.” I pause and then add. “And it’s really fuckin’ scary because I’ve never been in love before. You’re my calling, Saylor.”

  Saylor rejects my hand and hops out of the rig. I’m on the move before her door closes, chasing after her as she strides across the garage in fast paced steps. When I can reach her, I grab her hand, jerking on it until she turns around. I keep moving though, until her back is against the closest ambulance. My fingers in her hair, I pull her hair softly as my lips capture hers, kissing her more urgently than I ever have before. Saylor’s hands fist my shirt, pulling me closer to her as she returns the kiss and my body begins to ease up, maybe I haven’t lost Saylor forever.

  Then, with no notice, Saylor shoves me as hard as I can. I trip over the supply bag between the bays and almost fall on my ass until I catch my balance. Saylor’s nostrils are flaring as she walks toward me, pushing me again and I fall back another few steps.

  “Bullshit, I don’t buy it. You give me all the info on the accounts, get your names off of them, and then you stay the hell away from me. If I see you so much at the same restaurant, I will get a restraining order placed on you. The game’s over, you lose.”

  Saylor pivots on the heel of her feet, marching out of the garage. I lean against the hard metal behind my back, watching my heart walk out of here with her. Wallowing in my self-pity for about ten seconds, I’m reminded that the assholes that shot Eddie are still out there and Saylor is a perfect target right now. She might hate me, never want to see me again, threaten a restraining order, but Saylor Warner is my calling and my reason for living. I can’t let anything happen to her, not just for Eddie, but for my own sanity.

  Saylor

  I cussed. I said bad words. I said words that have never left my mouth before but tonight they were warranted. Jonathan Beckerdyte. No wonder Beck seemed so familiar to me, why I felt so comfortable around him, why I let my guard down for him when I never have for any other man. He duped me… my entire life!

  My body is shaking as I sprint out of the South Bay Ambulance District Headquarters. Tears blur my vision and for the sake of all things holy, I feel like I’m losing my mind because I can’t find my car anywhere in the lot. I probably shouldn’t be driving right now in the state of mind that I’m in, but I have to escape Beck and all things behind me are him. Then again, apparently he pays my rent so even my apartment is him.

  “Saylor!”

  His voice, the same one that once made me feel a rush of happiness and comfort, now sends chills down my spine. I don’t look behind me to see what he wants. Somehow my legs know what I want and move from speed walking to full on run. When I hear Beck’s feet hitting the pavement behind me, I pick up the pace, not paying attention to anything in my peripheral vision until a car lays on its horn. To my left, a SUV has slammed on its brakes and is stopped less than two feet from me. I freeze, unable to move as the driver stares me down and silent tears roll down my cheeks.

  A pair of strong hands encompasses my waist, guiding me out of the center of the road. I know it’s Beck, I can tell by his grasp and his smell, but I don’t shake him off even though I want nothing to do with him. Instead, I seek his comfort in his small touch, leaning my back against his chest as he hugs me from behind. Beck never was, and still isn’t, one to show his emotions yet in his arms right now, I can tell he’s as scared as I am.

  “I know you’re pissed at me and you have every right to be but what the fuck were you thinking? You almost got yourself killed!” Beck does a horrible job trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice.

  I push his arms away, escaping my Beck comfort zone and spinning around to face him. “I’m trying to get as far away from you as possible,” I snip, walking down the sidewalk that I really don’t even know where it leads to.

  “Let me give you a ride home. We rode together, remember?”

  His voice is much calmer, which helps my nerves steady as well. Frankly, that makes me even more angry that the man who has deceived my entire life, manipulating my choices, can still soothe me so easily. Still, he has a point that I have no mode of transportation and it would take me until tomorrow to walk to my place from here. Reluctantly, I follow him to his truck and climb inside, suddenly realizing we’re supposed to be working.

  “We’re going to get fired,” I say defeated, more for myself than for Beck, who I now know why he hates this job.

  The ignition hums as he turns on the old truck. “No, we won’t. I told the boss that you had a family emergency and I was your ride home.”

  Beck pulls into the street and I stare at him. “That’s the last time.”

  He glances at me with raised eyebrows. “Last time for what?”

  “For you covering for me, taking care of me, acting like you’re some kind of martyr.”

  I cross my arms, hoping to get my point across. I hold back tears that burn in my eyes at the thought that I’m truly alone for the first time ever in my entire life. I thought I had been before but now that I know the truth, everything is clicking into place and making sense.

  “Saylor, I’m not a martyr and I’m not trying to be. Eddie asked me to look out for you and that’s what I’ve been doing.”

  I throw up my arms, unable to contain my anger any longer. “He asked you to look out for me, not change the course of my life.”

  Beck starts to speak loudly then stops and lowers his tone. “I did what was best for you, Saylor, what kept you safe.”

  “You’re not God, Beck! You don’t get to make my decisions for me!”

  I’m screaming and I don’t even care. My body is operating on its own as my mind is too busy being upset and disappointed at all things Beck related right now. Having unleashed the beast, I begin to sob, doubling over and holding my head in my arms as they rest against my legs. Beck doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch me, he’s gone just like I want him to be. Then why does my heart feel the same way as it did when I held my dying uncle in my arms?

  With no idea how much time has passed, I look up to see that we’re in my apartment parking lot. I want to bury my head back in my lap to prolong my time with Beck because I plan to never see him again after I exit his truck. Instead, I turn to him with my tearstained cheeks to get one last look at him.

  “I don’t know if you meant it or not but I’m in love with you too and I hate you for it. If you had just been honest, told me the truth, and not been all secret agent then maybe this would’ve ended differently, maybe we could be together, but not now. You are dead to me, Jonathan Beckerdyte, and I never want to see you again.”

  I gasp as I finish my little speech because the words slice my already broken heart. I gave my heart to someone who doesn’t deserve it and I’ll never be able to give it to anyone ever again after the pieces he’s left it in. As always, Beck sits there emotionless. I want to reach over and pound on his chest to get some kind of reaction out of him.

  I scoff and shake my head. “You answered my question then. You were grasping at straws when you said you loved me. You’re a heartless man who couldn’t love anyone if he tried.” I spit the words out as though they’re fire coming from the dragon’s mouth and I hop
e they burn him as much as he’s burnt me.

  Taking me by surprise, Beck takes my hand and kisses the back of my knuckles lightly. “I meant it when I said I’d fallen in love with you. I’ll always love you and it’ll always be my job to protect you whether you like it or not.” He drops my hand and stares at it as it falls back in my lap. “I had a reason for doing the things I did. Now’s not the time to try to explain it so I just hope that one day you can hear me out. I’m not going far, Saylor, I’ll keep you safe.”

  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,” Eddi
e 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.”