Every Breath

by Tasha Ivey

  Wes’s phone chimes in his pocket, and he pulls it out, typing a quick reply before setting it on the desk. “You’ll figure it out. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “As strange as it is for me to admit it to you, yes . . . I truly am.”

  A lazy smile forms at the corners of his mouth, slightly squinting his eyes. “Mak, it’s okay to love them both. I’m glad you finally found someone that’s worthy of you, even if he isn’t a Baxter. It’s kinda poetic, right? You falling for the man who saved your life. It’s like it came full circle; maybe it was supposed to happen this way.”

  “Who am I to argue with the universe?” I wink at him. “But the Baxter boys will always be my favorite, you know.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” he says while ruffling my hair. “Promise me you’ll bring him around sometime. I’ve always wanted to meet him. Maybe it will help him to know that we think he did the right thing.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. He may not ever want to speak to me again.”

  “Makenna?” Callie says tenderly from the hallway.

  My eyes soften at the sight of her. This isn’t the hard-edged, insensitive Callie that I’ve seen the last couple of times. My friend is back. Before I can let go of Wes and turn to her, she’s already sprinting into the room and flinging her arms around me.

  “I’m so sorry, Mak. I’ve been such an asshole. You knew all along he wasn’t right for you, and I pushed it anyway. I had no right to say the things I did.”

  I can feel her ribs under my arms, and it makes me sad. She’s lost weight that she couldn’t afford to lose from her already petite frame. “Maybe not everything you said, but you were right about most of it. I deserved it. Even if it was in the wrong direction, I needed the push.”

  She shakes her head back and forth. “No. Not like that. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Wes’s arms drape around the two of us like a warm blanket. “Now that’s what I like to see. My two favorite girls, Lucy and Ethel, are back together again.”

  He gave us those nicknames the first day we met him at Shane’s dorm. He and Callie were inseparable after that night. “I forgot you always used to call us that.”

  “Well,” he snickers, “I think I jinxed myself. I never would’ve started it had I known you two would be so much trouble.”

  “I think he gave up on me. He hasn’t called me for two days.”

  Callie folds her arms over her chest and props her feet up on my desk. We just survived our first day back at school. “Have you tried to call him?”

  “No.” I know she doesn’t like my answer, but she’s not going to say anything about how I choose to manage my life. I’m off the hook for a little while, at least. “I told myself I’d answer the next time he calls, but of course, he picks that moment to stop calling me.”

  “He’ll call. I know he will.”

  After we left the school yesterday, Wes went to work, and Callie came home with me. I gave her all the details about everything that’s been happening the past couple of weeks, and after a couple glasses of wine last night, I told her everything I never told her about Shane. She even told me about all the trouble they’ve had getting pregnant. After nine hours of chatting with my best friend, I felt rejuvenated, almost lighter. Today, it’s been like nothing ever happened between us.

  “You never opened it?”

  What is she talking about? “Opened what?”

  “The Christmas gift I gave you. It’s over there on your shelf. Not that I blame you for not opening it, but somehow I thought you would.”

  I spin around in my chair and pluck it from the wide shelf. “I forgot about it actually. The day you brought it by, I ended up rushing out of here because William was put in the hospital. Then the next day was the Christmas parties and when Sawyer came home.”

  “No explanation needed there.” There’s a glint in her eyes when she smiles. “But you can open it now. I’m kind of glad you haven’t yet because now I get to watch.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her; the girl thrives on giving gifts. I tug at the shimmery, perfectly tied bow, unsure where to begin. I have always sworn that Callie spends just as much on the wrapping and bows as she does on the gifts. They always look like the gifts you see in the department store window displays.

  Finally, though, I manage to uncover the box and lift the lid. A white envelope lays on top of the silver tissue paper and has my name elaborately scrawled across the front. I squeal when I pull the slip of paper out. It’s a certificate for a full spa day at our favorite place, The Oasis. I need it desperately. It might take the full day just to massage the knots from my muscles. “Thanks, Cal. You know me too well. I can’t wait to use it.”

  “Me either. Wes got me one, too, so let’s do it together.” She claps her hands.

  “Yes!” What can I say? We’re easy to please.

  I know the box is too heavy to have only contained the envelope, so I lift the edge of the tissue paper. My mouth falls open when I see the picture staring back at me. The frame is beautifully sleek ceramic with inset colored mosaic glass at the sides. On the top, “Makenna & Callie” is painted in a loopy script, the glossy blue perfectly matching the glass. The bottom has the phrase “Through Thick & Thin” in the same eloquent font. Even when we were little girls, we said that we’d be friends through thick and thin to the end.

  The photo inside the frame makes me want to laugh and cry all at once. I forgot about that picture. It was the two of us at my sixth birthday party. We’re sitting side by side at the table, each with a huge ice cream sundae in front of us, and we’re grinning from ear to ear. Neither of us had our front teeth, so our toothless smiles are especially adorable.

  “Cal, I love it,” I say with a watery grin. “I don’t know how you always seem to top yourself, but you do. It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to put in on the mantle with my other favorite pictures.”

  “Aww, doll, you’re welcome. I had one made for me, too, and I’ve been staring at it every day. Why don’t we go on over to your house and see how it looks?”

  I eye her suspiciously. “Let me guess . . . Wes is working late?”

  “That’s not the only reason! I’ve missed you, and I’m seriously concerned about how it’s going to look at your house.”

  “Mmmhmm.” I deadpan.

  Bless her heart. She tries to keep a straight face, but she cracks within seconds, sending us both into a fit of giggles. Yeah, I’ve missed her, too.

  Darcy greets us at the door, and she apparently got used to having someone around all day while I was on my vacation because she’s not usually this excited to see me. I can hardly walk with her circling my feet. “Someone actually missed me today, I guess.”

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Callie says, bouncing like an idiot. “Let’s see how it looks.”

  She’s such a dork. “Alright, chill. I’m going to have to rearrange first and move them all closer together for it to fit.”

  She freezes and races over to my side. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s that? Is that him?”

  I follow her gaze to the picture of Sawyer, and me. I didn’t think to show it to her yesterday. “That’s him.”

  “No freaking way, Mak.” She punches my arm and wiggles her eyebrows. “Soldier Beefcake is seriously hot.”

  I sigh, staring at his sweet smile. “I know.”

  “So . . . you didn’t mention it yesterday, but I can tell. You definitely slept with him.”

  I swear she has some sort of radar for when anyone she knows has sex. “Maybe a time or two.”

  “Well, don’t stop talking! I want to hear all about it.”

  And for the next two exhausting hours, I give her a play by play of what’s happened between us since I got his letters, and I feed her greedy little ears as many of the steamy details I can without feeling the need to hide under the table.

  Ugh, I wish I could talk to him right now. Talking to Callie abo
ut all the good times we’ve had just makes me miss him even more than I already do. It’s been a week, but it feels like an eternity. I have to just shove my pride out of the way and call him. I have to beg him to forgive me for what I said to him. I don’t blame him at all, not anymore, and he shouldn’t feel responsible. And I let my own guilt make it worse.

  “Well, if I drool a little bit when I finally get to meet him, you’ll know why. You think he’ll show me his tattoos?”

  I cackle at her. She’s absolutely insane. “I’m not sure, but make sure I’m around when you ask him. If you ever even get to meet him, that is.”

  “Are you kidding me? From the way it all sounds, that boy is head over heels. He’s just giving you time to deal, and probably needing some time to work it out himself. It breaks my heart that he thinks he’s personally responsible for all those lives lost. I mean, what about all the ones he’s saved? You’re living proof of exactly how good at his job he really is. He should really be able to celebrate those instead of mourning for the ones he had no control over. He saves lives. In some cases, he fails, but then again, that’s not up to him. It’s God that makes that call.”

  Why didn’t I think of that? “You are a freaking genius.”

  “Huh? What’d I say?”

  “You’re right.” I smack my leg. “He needs to rewire his way of thinking. I need to create a memory board for him of everyone he’s helped. I’m sure if I talked to some of the people he knows, they can help me come up with some names and even pictures.”

  “Well, duh. You always knew I’m smart.”

  “Correction,” I kid. “I always knew you were a smart ass.”

  “Hey, I’ll wear that badge just as proudly.” She stands and kisses the top of my head. “I gotta go get dinner started. Wes will be home soon. Love ya, kiddo.”

  “Love you, too, Cal. See you in the morning.”

  She walks out of the kitchen, and I immediately pick up the phone to call the nursing home. I don’t know exactly how to ask for William’s help without telling him all about Sawyer’s little hole in the wall. There’s really no other way to explain why I need to find some people he’s saved. William is his only close family, even if he’s not a blood relative, so I think he should know how serious his depression is.

  And when I finally get the nerve to tell him, he’s not surprised in the very least, and he thinks that my idea is a great one. Also, he quickly comes up with someone for my list. It’s him. William tells me that it was Sawyer who noticed his skin was a little grey one day, and even though he told him he felt fine, Sawyer rushed him to the hospital. He had a massive heart attack as soon as they got him there, but they were able to get him help fast enough to save his life. If Sawyer hadn’t taken him, the ambulance probably wouldn’t have gotten there quickly enough to do any good.

  He also told me to call Giano, strangely enough. Sawyer never really explained how he knew him, but I’m guessing this might be the reason he’s so fond of Sawyer. I quickly look up the number and dial the restaurant, hoping he’s not too busy to talk to me. He’s actually excited to hear from me and asks when we’re coming back to eat. I explain that I want to do something nice for Sawyer, kind of as a thank you for everything he does for others, and I’m compiling a list of people he’s helped or even saved.

  Giano is more than happy to help. As it turns out, Giano and William were always close friends, so he knew all about how Sawyer’s parents died and how William took him in. When he was needing part-time help in his restaurant, he asked Sawyer if he’d mind to come work for him. He knew the gas station wasn’t giving him many hours at that time, so he knew it’d be helpful to the both of them. Sawyer ended up working there for four years.

  One day, Giano had him working at his house instead of the restaurant. Business was slow, but he still wanted to be able to pay him, so he asked him to go to his house and mow his lawn. His wife was home babysitting their grandkids, so she wasn’t going to have time to take care of it that day. Sawyer got there and drove the mower out of the shed, and he noticed the gate going into the backyard was open, even though they were adamant that it always stayed shut.

  He decided to check it out, but he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He walked back through the gate and turned around to make sure it was latched, and that’s when he noticed it. There was a child floating face down in the pool. He dove in, pulled the child out, and immediately started CPR, yelling for help between breaths. Apparently, Giano’s wife had laid down for a nap with all of the kids, but the oldest one woke up and decided to go for a swim. They hadn’t realized he had gotten tall enough to reach the safety latch. Giano will be forever grateful that Sawyer decided to check to see why it was open. If he hadn’t, they would’ve lost a grandchild that day and would’ve had to live with that guilt forever.

  I have chills all over my body right now. I’m starting to see a pattern here, though. After what his parents put him through and his mom blaming him for his father’s death. Sawyer has spent his life saving others, maybe trying to prove his mom wrong that he’s not a failure. But all he sees is the lives he couldn’t save. He still believes his mother.

  After Giano gives me several more names of paramedics that worked with him and a few guys that served with him in the Army, I feel good about the start I have to my list. I don’t understand how Sawyer can’t see what an amazing person he is.

  I feed Darcy much later than normal, and she’s not happy about it at all. She keeps looking up from her dish and glaring at me. “Hey, I forgot to even feed myself if it makes you feel any better.” It doesn’t.

  I heat up some leftover pot roast and make a sandwich from it, choking it down while I research some of the names Giano gave me online. I end up finding phone numbers for four of them, so I’ll be able to call them tomorrow afternoon, I hope.

  Finally satisfied with what I’ve accomplished for the evening, I wash my plate and put it away just as Darcy darts from the kitchen and up the stairs. She’s usually pretty excited about bedtime, but I’ve never seen her quite that enthusiastic about it. She’s such a little weirdo sometimes.

  I’m wiping the crumbs off the table when I swear I hear the front door shut. Sawyer’s words echo in my mind, and my stomach drops into my knees.

  I need you to set this alarm any time you’re in this house . . . you can’t take any chances while Drew is still out there somewhere.

  I didn’t set it, nor did I lock it when Callie left. I hope it’s just her . . . or my imagination.

  “Callie? Is that you?” Only eerie silence returns my inquiry.

  I slide a butcher knife from the block on the counter and take quiet, careful steps down the short hallway, glancing into the living room and up the stairs. Everything looks just as it should, and I try to convince myself that it’s okay to breathe again. I walk back into the kitchen and put the knife away before returning to the front door, turning both the lock on the knob and the deadbolt. Finally, I punch my code into the alarm panel and wait for the reassuring sound that the house is now armed.

  I let out a long, slow breath, trying to quell the uneasy feeling that has taken over. But I needed to scare myself like that, I guess. Maybe, from now on, I’ll be more careful about keeping everything locked up like Sawyer said.

  But as I turn to shut off the lights, my uneasy feeling turns into my worst nightmare. The shadow of a large man on my couch has me scrambling for the light switch again, and it’s not just my imagination. He’s back.

  “It really is unsafe for you to keep the door unlocked. You never know who might get inside. Not that I’d have any trouble getting through a lock. The alarm is a nice touch though.”

  I take a quick glance toward the front windows to see if the squad car is still there.

  Drew’s sinister laughter echoes around the room. “They left a few minutes ago. I’ve been out there watching for hours. It’s kinda funny that they sit out there with the windows down and announce everything they’re going to
do. In case you need to know, they went to pick up some dinner, but they’ll be back in about thirty minutes or so. That gives me more than enough time to get you out of here. They won’t even know you’re gone until morning, and that gives us more than enough time to get a good head start.”

  I’m clenching my fists so hard that I can feel my fingernails biting into my palms. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Drew. You just need to get out of here before they get back.”

  “Oh, but it’s not that easy, baby.” He stands, stalking toward me slowly. He turns off his menacing look in a split second, trying to seem gentler. Like I’d fall for that. “You told me once that you always wanted to go to Mexico, and I already have reservations made at a nice resort. We’ll spend a few days there and then hit the road again. I’ll let you decide where we go next. It’ll be fun. I can’t make that trip alone. You have to go with me.”

  “No. I’m not leaving. Just go.”

  His shoulders slump and he stares at me for a minute. “Fine. When you decide to wise up, give me a call. I can wait a few more days before I leave.”

  I don’t say anything to him. I’m afraid to engage him any further, so I just stand there in the foyer as still as I can while he saunters toward the front door. Please, just leave. Please.

  But he stops in front of the door with his back to me, silently standing there so long that every second becomes more tense than the last. I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but if his plan is to scare the hell out of me, it’s totally working.

  “No.” He turns around. His eyes are empty and soulless, almost like he’s possessed. “This hasn’t been working for me. You know why? Because I knew if I didn’t have you, then he would. I couldn’t allow that. If he’d never butted in in the first place, we’d still be together. Do you realize that? I never would’ve had to tear the house up to keep you from talking to him. You never would’ve been dreaming about him instead of me. He ruined everything. That’s why he needed to die.”