Tale of Life (Essence Series #2)

by Todd, E. L.

  “That isn’t true!” Calloway snapped. “He was assaulting her and I intervened, trying to protect her.” He looked at Beatrice. “Tell them.”

  Everyone looked Beatrice, waiting for her to confirm his story, but she glanced at Hawk then averted her gaze. Calloway heard the anger in Easton’s voice.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she hissed. “You’re such a coward!”

  “That’s enough,” Mr. Henry said. “Calloway, you are suspended from school for a week. Any further disciplinary action will be sent to you by mail.”

  “What?” Calloway snapped. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  Hawk was smiling, triumphant in his scheme.

  “I’m sick of this!” Calloway yelled. “All the teachers know that Hawk is pure scum but you all turn a blind eye because his father is the principal. Grow a backbone and stand up to him!”

  Mr. Henry pointed his finger at him. “Do you want to make it two weeks?”

  Calloway took a deep breath, controlling the angry retort on his tongue. “No, sir,” he said obediently.

  Mr. Henry turned to Hawk and helped him to his feet. They walked him over to the nurse’s station in the other building, along with Beatrice, but no one attended to Calloway. All the teachers stayed away from, treating him like a contagious disease.

  Weston wiped Calloway’s face with the napkins from the school dance, cleaning the dripping blood from his face. Calloway let her attend to him, making him look presentable. When she was finished she examined his eye, which was already bruised and swollen.

  “You’re going to need some ice,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

  She ran her hands down his jacket. “At least you didn’t get any blood on your suit.”

  Calloway didn’t respond—he didn’t care.

  Lesser of Two Evils

  “What happened?” Aunt Grace asked in a frantic voice.

  Calloway’s left eye was blue, bruised from the collision of Hawk’s fist with his face, and his nose was still dripping slightly. He sat in the back seat with Weston, who continued to wipe the drops of blood away as they came.

  Aunt Grace turned on the overhead light of the car and examined his features. Her eyes widened in fear. “Are you okay?” she asked, practically hysterical. “Do we need to take you to the hospital?”

  “No,” Calloway said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Weston wiped another drop away.

  “What happened?” Uncle Scott asked. “Why were you fighting?”

  Calloway sighed. “Hawk, the same kid that broke the camera, was harassing Beatrice, trying to force her leave the dance. When I intervened, it became violent.”

  “Then why are you suspended?” Aunt Grace yelled. Calloway had never seen her so angry. “You did nothing wrong. And that jerk should be expelled from the school.”

  “His father is the principal,” Calloway said. “Nothing will happen to him.”

  “Well, the girl will speak up, wont she?” Aunt Grace asked.

  Calloway sighed. “No,” he said. “She’s too scared of him.”

  “Well, we can’t let this happen,” Uncle Scott said. “I’m not letting this go on his permanent record, jeopardizing his college admissions. We’ll talk to the principal on Monday.”

  “It’s pointless.” Calloway sighed.

  “No, it isn’t!” Aunt Grace snapped. “We aren’t going to stop until this is settled.”

  Uncle Scott started the car and left the parking lot. “We’ll figure it out, Calloway.”

  Weston squeezed his hand, silently comforting him. Calloway wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leaning his head on hers. Her presence calmed him better than anything else. If only she was there when the whole thing happened he may not have lost his temper. Weston had the ability to sheathe his angry like no one else did.

  When they arrived at the house, Easton and Breccan were standing by her car, waiting for them to arrive. After Calloway opened the door, Weston dropped her hand and the action made Calloway sad. He knew her affection would disappear as soon as they walked inside the house—it was over.

  Calloway sighed deeply when they crossed the threshold and entered. He tossed his jacket on the coatrack and moved to the couch, leaning against the cushions.

  “I’ll get some ice,” Weston said as she walked into the kitchen.

  “We’ll get this straightened out on Monday,” Aunt Grace said. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Okay,” Calloway said.

  Aunt Grace kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, dear.”

  “Good night.”

  His aunt and uncle walked up the stairs and entered their bedroom down the hall, out of ear shot from their conversation. Weston returned to the room and placed the bag of ice over Calloway’s eye, dabbing it gently against the skin to reduce the inflammation.

  Calloway cringed slightly at the sting but tried to hide his discomfort from Weston.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you for helping me.”

  Weston continued to apply pressure while Calloway looked at her. There was genuine concern in her eyes and the sight melted his heart. It was obvious she trusted him and cared about him deeply—he just wasn’t sure how much.

  She pulled the bag away and set it on the table. “Let’s give it a break.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  Easton and Breccan moved to the couch across from them. Easton leaned forward in her seat while Breccan ran his hands through his hair. Weston sat next to Calloway and grabbed his hand again. The unexpected touch sent waves of shock through his body, and Calloway glanced at their joined hands. Weston had never been affectionate with him outside of the dance. What did this mean? She scooted closer to him on the couch then grabbed his arm, placing it over her shoulder.

  The look on Breccan’s face matched Calloway’s—they were both shocked.

  “So, what happened?” Easton asked, ignoring their unnatural closeness.

  “The same story,” Calloway sighed, reliving the same nightmare in his mind. “Hawk was harassing her, forcing her into his jeep, and I intervened like a complete idiot.”

  “You are an idiot,” Breccan snapped. “You don’t owe that girl anything. She gets exactly what she deserves.”

  “No one deserves that,” Calloway said. “Hawk was yanking her arm, dragging her away while she cried hysterically and begged him to release her. She was so scared—I could hear it in her voice.” Calloway took a deep breath. “I couldn’t abandon her,” he said. “I had to help her.”

  Easton shook her head. “I can’t believe her,” she snapped. “You saved her again and she didn’t even defend you, resulting in your suspension. What a coward! People don’t change, Calloway. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  Calloway met her gaze. “She just—”

  “STOP MAKING EXCUSES FOR HER!”

  Calloway flinched at the anger in Easton’s voice. Breccan moved away from her, frightened of her unbridled rage.

  “I mean it, Calloway!” she continued. “I admire your intrinsic ability to help other people, giving them a second chance even when they don’t deserve it, but this is borderline stupidity. Beatrice will continue to do this to you. Stop acting surprised. You are having faith in someone that doesn’t deserve it. Knock it off!”

  Calloway took a deep breath while he looked at his friend, who had been right about Beatrice from the beginning. Mr. Avey encouraged him to retain this ability, his compassion, but perhaps Easton was right; Beatrice was an exception. She continued to repeat the same mistakes over and over, betraying Calloway at every opportunity. Even when they were together she was never really there—just a piece of her. Perhaps that was why Calloway couldn’t commit to her—he knew she wasn’t the right one. “Okay,” he said.

  “So, you’ll stop helping her?” Easton asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” Calloway said. “B
ut I’ll stop expecting her to change, stop waiting for her to be a good person. That’s the most I can give you.”

  “Finally!” Breccan yelled. “He sees the light!”

  Calloway recalled the Hara-Kir that he had seen right before the fight with Hawk. He forgot about it until now. “I have to tell you something,” he said. “I saw a Hara-Kir.”

  “When?” Weston snapped, her eyes enlarging in alarm. She didn’t pull her hand away. “At the prom?”

  Calloway nodded. “I saw it hiding in the shadow of the building.”

  “Did you kill it?” Easton asked.

  Calloway dropped his gaze. “No,” he said. “That’s when Hawk and Breccan walked outside.”

  “So, you let it get away?” Weston asked. “You let it endanger all those students on campus so you could save your ex-girlfriend? What’s wrong with you?” Weston tried to pull her hand away but Calloway tightened his grip.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Calloway said. “It wasn’t threatening.”

  “And how do you know that?” she snapped. “Are you a mind reader now?

  Calloway didn’t want to reveal the gesture it made to him, knowing it would make her distrust him again since it was obviously a sign of communication, but he didn’t know what else to say. “It ran away across the street, disappearing down the road. It left the campus.”

  “You still let it escape!” she snapped. The look in her eyes was frightening. It wasn’t full of anger, despite the rage in her voice, but sheer disappointment. “I can’t believe you, Calloway.”

  “I can’t either,” Easton said. “Beatrice was only in that situation because she put herself there—it’s her fault, Calloway. It’s your responsibility to destroy the Hara-Kir—not babysit, Beatrice.”

  Weston yanked her hand away from Calloway and stormed out of the house with Easton following right behind her. Calloway suddenly felt cold at the loss of Weston’s warmth, missing her touch the moment she took it away. He sprinted after her before they left in Easton’s car.

  Weston was about to get inside the car when Calloway slammed the door closed and barricaded the doorway with his mass, blocking her path of escape.

  “Move,” she hissed. “Or I’ll make you.”

  Calloway stepped toward her, reaching his hands toward her as he stared into her eyes. He tried to communicate his sorrow through his gaze alone. He didn’t want Weston to leave—he couldn’t lose her. It nearly killed him last time. It was like being a part from the sun, cold and dead. “Weston, please listen to me.”

  “No,” she snapped, tearing her hands from his grasp. “You keep telling me to trust you when you give me no reason to, expecting me to rely solely on faith and your word. You claim our cause to protect the Life is your biggest priority but you choose to save a stupid girl instead of pursuing a Hara-Kir! How can I trust you, Calloway? Every time I try, you give me a reason not to—over and over. I’m done with you!”

  “Please don’t say that to me,” Calloway begged. “No.” He felt the tears under his eyes, bubbling to the surface. This was more agonizing than anything he’d ever experienced. It made Beatrice’s betrayal look like a mere misunderstanding. “Please hear me out.”

  “There’s nothing you can say,” she yelled. “Now let me pass!”

  Calloway grabbed her hand but she yanked it away. “Weston—”

  “I don’t want to see you anymore, Calloway. I mean it. You aren’t my friend—I can’t be friends with someone I don’t trust.”

  “Weston, don’t go. You can trust me,” he whispered. “I just made a mistake. I’ll do anything to take it back.” He felt a tear fall down his face and he quickly wiped it away, ashamed that his raw emotions were coming though. Weston was everything to him, the light in darkness when he was blind. The idea of never seeing her again was too much to bear—he wanted to die. If only he could tell her the truth about everything, then she might stay, but he knew he couldn’t—he had to see this plan through and prove his worthiness to everyone, especially her.

  Weston crossed her arms over her chest. “My sole purpose is to protect the Life,” she said. “I can’t—be friends—with someone who doesn’t understand that. More importantly, I can’t be friends with someone that doesn’t uphold those same values.”

  “But, I do!” he cried. “You know me, Weston, better than anyone I’ve ever met. Please trust me. Believe me, everything I have ever done is to protect the Life—everything.”

  “And what about tonight?” she asked. “What happened there?”

  Calloway swallowed the words on his tongue. Telling her the truth would be worse than keeping it a secret. It would explain his behavior but it would condemn him as untrustworthy—possibly a spy. He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest. “Please just trust me,” he begged. “I promise you can. Just do this for me.”

  She stared at him for a moment then pulled her hands away. “Goodbye, Calloway,” she whispered. “If you ever do anything against our cause, aiding a Hara-Kir or taking an innocent life, I will kill you myself.” She walked around him and got inside the car. The engine roared to life behind him, but he didn’t turn around to look at Weston, unable to bear the sight of her leaving his life forever. The car drove down the road and disappeared from the city streetlights, leaving Calloway alone on the grass, crying quietly.

  A Perfect Match

  When they drove to the library the next morning, Easton was still angry at Calloway and didn’t speak to him once on their drive, but Calloway was ambivalent about her silent treatment. He was so depressed about Weston that he didn’t feel like talking anyway—or listening. He already lost her once and now he lost her again. But this felt a million times worse, even worse than his breakup with Beatrice. His heart throbbed with every beat. He would rather be stuck in a room with Hawk for an entire week than suffer through this misery.

  They threw their bags on the table and took their seats. The Christmas tree still stood by the window but the lights were absent, making it look old and dead. The blue ornament that was placed on top was tilted over, no longer the shining star that Calloway remembered. Now it was a forgotten artifact.

  Easton opened the Kirin Book with a frown on her face, getting to work immediately without addressing the obvious tension in the room. She was livid that Calloway allowed a Hara-Kir to escape, choosing to save Beatrice instead of a potential innocent human. Calloway hadn’t had the chance to tell them the truth; that the Hara-Kir wasn’t threatening.

  Calloway, who was so depressed that he could barely speak, addressed Easton. “The reason why I didn’t pursue the Hara-Kir was because it tried to communicate with me,” Calloway said quietly. “I knew it had no intention of attacking.”

  Breccan looked at his cousin, confusion plastered on his face. “What?”

  “What are you talking about?” Easton asked, abandoning the Kirin Book on the table, no longer interested in the page she was trying to read.

  “It made some sort of gesture,” Calloway said. He twisted his hands and tried to repeat the movements, making symbols with his fingers. “I don’t remember.” He sighed. “But it repeated it twice. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Weston this?” Breccan asked.

  “It makes me look bad,” Calloway explained. “Why would they communicate with me in such a way unless I was involved with them? At least that’s what Weston would assume—and for good reason. She just started to trust me so I thought it was best not to mention it. I had no idea she was going to be so upset.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her,” Easton said in an astonished voice. “Especially after everything she said to you—that she never wants to see you again.”

  Calloway sighed. “You have no idea how much I wanted to,” he said. “I wanted to tell her about my father, too, but I couldn’t. She thinks I’m not an advocate for protecting the Life but she couldn’t be more wrong. There’s no way for me to explain everything without making me look worse. I can
only tell her the truth after I prove myself—that there is no doubt about my loyalty.”

  “That sucks,” Breccan said. “You guys were so close to coming together.”

  Easton nodded. “I actually thought there was something between you two,” she said. “I’ve never seen her act that way.”

  The pain was still too raw and Calloway wanted this conversation to end. Knowing that Weston may have felt something for him made everything worse—that he was so close to having what he wanted most. Now just the sound of her name was enough to paralyze him with pain. “What do you think the gesture meant?” he said, trying to change the subject.

  Easton sighed. “I agree with you. I think it’s an attempt to communicate with you.”

  “But they speak English!” Breccan said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Then it’s some other sign—a message,” Easton said.

  “But what?” Calloway said. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  “Well, the Hara-Kir repeated the gesture twice, right?” Easton said.

  Calloway nodded. “Yes.”

  “He repeated it for a reason,” she said firmly. “When you didn’t respond in the same way, it assumed you didn’t receive his message so he repeated it. So, he was trying to tell you something.”

  “That’s creepy…” Breccan said.

  “Why would they try to ambush me then approach me peacefully?” Calloway asked. “This is so confusing.”

  “They are probably afraid of you,” she said. “You’ve killed every Hara-Kir you’ve crossed, including the six that attacked us in that house. They probably assumed you were alone during the raid, so they must think you are incredibly powerful.”

  Calloway laughed. “Well, that’s a nice thought.”

  “It’s to our advantage,” Breccan said.

  “Or not,” Calloway said. “What if they discover that I’m not? Then they just kill me because I’m useless to them?”

  “Well in that instance you’re dead either way,” Breccan said.