The Second Life of Everly Beck
The Tethered Soul Series, Book 2
Laura C. Reden
The Second Life of Everly Beck:
The Tethered Soul Series, Book 2
Copyright © 2021 by Laura C. Reden
Ebook: ISBN 978-1-954587-05-2
Paperback: ISBN 978-1-954587-18-2
Hardback: ISBN 978-1-954587-21-2
Edited by Maxwell Anderson
Cover designed by Laura C. Reden
Cover Images:
© Adobe Stock / paulrommer
© Adobe Stock / Fernando Batista
© Adobe Stock / Baranov
© Adobe Stock / alexlisbris
© Adobe Stock / tachinskamarina
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Thank you
About the Author
Also by Laura C. Reden
Chapter 1
It was the fourteenth time I died, yet the first I wanted to live. Love will do that to you. The fear of losing Beck was far greater than anything I had ever experienced before. It was too soon. I was promised months longer—possibly a year. The wreckage stole everything from me. I didn’t know it was an option for her to follow me. I’d never turned a mortal soul into a tethered one before. But that’s how much I loved her. Enough to not let go, in sickness and in death. I meant it when I said, forever.
As a kid, my memory was clouded, leaving me with major gaps in my timeline. To put it simply, it was the best part. The ignorance. It truly was bliss. Though, for every gift that youth offered, there were drawbacks. Mine was that I had a secret to keep. In all honesty, it was a curse. An isolating burden that would cause me to squander my talents. To be seen but not noticed. If I had opened my mouth freely, I would no longer be “gifted,” I’d be a “prodigy,” and that was the line I drew between being normal and being something else entirely. A Tethered Soul was a tortured soul.
As a young boy that’d been around the block a dozen times or more, I mostly lived in the present. Being young was the best part of it all. No responsibilities. No backache, stiff knees, or dilapidated vision. I was damn near invincible. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like. But unlike every other childhood I’d lived before, this one showed great promise when a little towheaded girl moved in across the street.
This is the story of my second life with Everly Beck.
Beck had survived death. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. That’s why I found myself in an underground gambling ring making dirty money; I had someone to provide for. Somewhere over the horizon, I had a wife, and I wanted to give her the world. There were, however, a few tasks that needed completion first, and I’d been working through them tirelessly. First, I had a standing appointment to see Clouse Charles, assuming he was still alive. Either way, at 3:00 PM, in the basement of a back-alley bar in the most dangerous part of Stills, I’d be handing over a large sum of cash for something much more valuable to me. It wasn’t the first time I’d rubbed elbows with men such as these. Feral, savage beasts. Each with an outstanding criminal record. Because when you’ve been around as long as I have, it’s hard to keep finances above board.
I was winning amongst the testosterone and cigar smoke when a leggy redhead placed my drink on the table with a wink. I’d seen that face before—the one that begged for a reason to run away and start anew. I smiled at her, taking in the invitation. She was a pure heart, much better than this place called for. I briefly imagined how I could turn her life around. How her troubled blue eyes could shift in the light of day. I could save her from this life. I wanted to. But I couldn’t save them all, and my heart had already been given away. She wasn’t Beck, and no matter how I pretended, none of them were. I took a sip of my drink, focusing on the game again, and when it was my turn to lay cards down, I did carefully. I collected my chips at the protest of the beast at the round table.
The men shouted, throwing their hands in the air. One went as far as repositioning his gun on the table to point in my direction. I won the pot when it mattered most, but lost often enough to make it believable. This wasn’t the kind of place where you wanted to be taken for an outsider. All of these men had short lives ahead of them, and none were bright. Their energy didn’t lift into the air; it sank like a heavy poisonous gas that cloaked the ground in darkness.
I’d been inhaling cigar smoke for four hours in anticipation of my meeting, but I couldn’t keep this up much longer. My welcome had worn. When my 3:00 showed up, I withdrew from the game and cashed out with the bartender. I patted Clouse on the back and pretended not to notice as he marveled at my stature the way he had twenty-some years ago. “Still drinking scotch?” I asked. He smiled, and his silver-flecked beard split in two as he laughed out loud. “Two,” I said to the bartender, tipping him a chip from my winnings.
“Easton Green, you never change, son. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” His voice trailed off.
“You’re looking well yourself. Do you have the key?” I asked, sliding him his drink.
“Do you have my cut?”
I didn’t mess around. I trusted Clouse. He’d been part of a long line of men that dealt with Tethered Souls and other powerful, dangerous beings. Keeping their safe deposit box keys for gaps of time that made little sense to anyone, printing fake IDs and passports when needed. They never asked questions, and they always delivered. All secrets were safe for a cost. I was happy to pay. I slid him a briefcase, and he handed me a single gold key.
“Will you be back, Mr. Green?” Clouse said, peeking into the briefcase, satisfied.
“Always. Keep my account open,” I said, throwing back my shot and patting him on the back. It would be the last time he saw me, given his age, but there would always be someone on the other line ready to answer the call of a Tethered Soul—assuming the price was right. I left without turning back, and my stomach twisted when I heard shuffling in my wake. My hair stood on end when a gunshot echoed up the stairwell. The blood drained from my face as I took two stairs at a time. I had seen so much crime that sometimes I could convince myself to turn a blind eye. It was easy to do when the men had black mist pooled at their feet, but as I walked down the alley, I struggled to dismiss the leggy redhead who deserved better. It wasn’t my world, however, and I had no choice but to keep on walking.
I proceeded to the bank and withdrew more than enough to get me started with a new life. Over the years, I’d dump my overflow into the account before making my exit into the next life. It was the only nest egg I had, and sometimes, I didn’t even have that. I’m not sure what Clouse’s men thought Tethered Souls were, but by the service they provided, I had to
imagine they thought we were vampires or werewolves. Something that could not only siphon their blood and tear their flesh, but would do so at the drop of a hat. If they had only known we were like them, lonely and broken, caged birds unable to fly . . . well, I don’t think they would work for us at all. And my guess was, that’s the precise reason Tethered Souls said nothing about who or what they really were to anyone.
I moved swiftly down the streets. The cold air nipping at my nose, and my breath visible. I threw the tail of my scarf over my shoulder and hailed a taxi. The second task at hand was finding an engagement ring. What I dreamed of giving Beck was her original ring, but I knew it was either six feet deep in the Clover Cemetery or her parents had it locked away in a keepsake box amongst her belongings. I considered this when I thought about how meaningful it would be to give her the same ring, but I wasn’t about to break into her parents’ house looking for it. As tempting as that may be, I needed a replacement.
Doorbells jingled above my head as I walked into a jewelry store. The air was warm and stale. A security guard stood at the door with his arms folded across his chest and a gaze that could deter even the stealthiest of thieves. “Can I help you?” a man asked. His hair was slick and jet black.
“I’m looking for an engagement ring. Simple yet elegant.”
The sales agent led me to a row of glamorous bands that gleamed under the encased lighting. My eyes wandered over all the possibilities that could represent my eternal love. As I lost myself in the beauty of my bright future, I heard my eight-year-old adopted brother call out in a memory that was anything but distant . . .
“Trampoline?” Tanner said, halfway out the door.
Becca and I knew there was no time like the present. We took off at a full sprint through her kitchen and out the back door. Her backyard was marvelous. They had a pool and a trampoline. I could almost feel the heat beaming down on me that sunny day. The towheaded girl crawled onto the trampoline and turned around to give me a hand. We were friends the second our hands met.
That day, the three of us jumped high enough to reach the sky. My heart pounded with excitement, and I laughed at the little girl’s hair as it stood on end every time she fell. We didn’t have to say anything to know we shared an undeniable bond. That was one advantage of being a Tethered Soul. I didn’t like it so much when I was old, but then, I could live like that forever and be happy. That day, the day I met my neighbor, the three of us were as free as birds, and my soul soared with no limits.
We played every day that magical, sweltering summer. But it all ended when school started and my family moved across the country. Back then, I couldn’t figure out why it felt like déjà vu the very moment I said goodbye to Becca. It hurt me in a way I could only understand when I was older. Even though my memory hadn’t yet bloomed, I knew I was losing a very special piece of myself that day.
The older I grew, the more I was convinced of two things. The first, was that Beck was alive, going on her second life. I didn’t know how, but I could only imagine that my love was strong enough to pull her soul to mine, and somehow, she stayed behind with me instead of moving on. The second, was that for a brief moment in time, she used to be my neighbor. I felt the gravitational pull towards her when I was young, but now with the clarity of my memory in full force, I could see the synchronicities. The bright blond hair, the green eyes, her name. Becca Reed. It was so close to Beck, it was possible that her new parents named her after her real last name. I never asked.
“This one,” I said. I chose a single diamond that sparkled with resounding hope. It looked just like the original had, and I couldn’t wait to find Beck and slide it onto her finger. This time, we’d have a proper wedding. And this time, it really would be forever. The only obstacle standing in my way was the third and final task at hand; I had to find her. I’d searched for loved ones before. Scoured the earth for little brothers, past parents, favorite mentors, and one time, a dog. But I’d never searched for her—I’d never looked for another Tethered Soul. When I started with records of her adopted parents’ names and a past partial address, nothing had turned up. As was the case with most adopted kids, her records were all marked confidential.
It was hard to remember, but if I recalled correctly, my first few lives had been messy. Of course, nothing had been worse than the original, though. I was nearly six when I died, and until that day, I was nothing more than my father’s whipping post. I tried to block it out, but lucky for me, my subconscious did that all on its own—something for which I was thankful for. But the lives that followed were dark and lonely until the rules of the game finally made sense to me. I needed to be there for Beck during this confusing time, because remembering the impossible can be an uphill battle. Especially if the ones you trust to confide in don’t accept you for who you really are. And they don’t. They never do. Everly was the only person I’d ever told that loved me just the same when all was said and done.
In an ever-changing world, I had always stayed the same, and I knew Beck would too. If I had to guess, she was somewhere out there, trying to get an education in graphic design. It was the one and only clue that I hadn’t yet investigated. I hoped she would fall into my lap much like she did on the New River Bridge. Appear out of thin air. Her soul not tethered to earth, but to me. Our love like magnets, fate willing us together.
It didn’t happen. Not yet, anyway.
I’d spent two years checking out the golden coast and watching every equestrian that galloped through the crashing waves. It was one of her bucket list items she’d yet to check off, and I somehow envisioned her there with a golden tan and a wild mustang beneath her. Eventually, I rented a home up north, hoping to run into her during a breath-taking display of the northern lights. It was there, underneath the sky’s green glow, that I’d find her wrapped in a blanket in need of my warmth. When that, too, never came to fruition, I spent nearly a year crashing weddings while traveling across the country. But I wasn’t about to give up. No, I was just getting started.
It hadn’t occurred to me earlier that Beck might return home, and I expect that this is because my first life wasn’t one I’d ever return to myself. When I tried to empathize with how Beck might feel, I knew I had to go to Clover. There was something about home that could draw a warm soul in, and I had hoped that would be the case with Beck and the small town in which she had grown up. When the plane touched down, I ordered a cab to take me straight to the bridge. The New River Bridge.
Chapter 2
I stared out the window of the taxi as memories slowly took hold. While most of the commercial space had developed over the years, the lush pines of the forest remained the same. My heart picked up pace as the New River Bridge approached, and I rubbed my clammy palms onto the knees of my jeans. “You can drop me off here, sir,” I said.
“Here?” The cab driver asked.
“Yes, thank you.” I handed the driver a twenty and hopped out of the cab with nothing but a backpack slung across one shoulder. I stepped onto the curb and marveled at the bridge and the rushing water below. The air was electric, and my skin buzzed with memory. Now, all I had to do was find her. Again and again and again. My never-ending story was finally taking shape. The only problem? Where was she?
My fingertips grasped the platinum band in my pocket, twirling it from side to side as I stood at the very place we met, and died. She wasn’t here either. Not today anyway. I breathed in the electricity in the air and I could feel that I was closer here than I had ever come before. Her energy seemed to waft in the air and wrestle in the trees. My eyes grew large as I took in the genuine beauty of the river and the optimism that it stood for. It was beautiful here, despite the pain.
I ran my fingers over the engraved plaque that read, “In loving memory of Easton Green and Everly Beck.” It was a lifetime ago, but it hurt like yesterday. I shook the image of Beck’s searching eyes submerged in the icy water of New River—an image that plagued me. Nothing was worse than helplessness, and I felt its f
ull wrath in the wreckage that stormy afternoon.
I shook the memory from my mind, replacing it with a happier one:
“Easton! Come on down!” Mom yelled from downstairs. She was an impatient woman.
I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m coming!” I yelled. She wouldn’t hear me if I didn’t yell, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of it.
Tanner threw his pencil, standing in compliance, and I followed him downstairs. He and I were the same age and adopted the same month. Mom and Dad had gotten two of us to keep each other company—like dogs I’d always thought. I liked dogs, though, and I enjoyed having a brother. As far as having a sibling went, Tanner was a good one.
“The new neighbors moved in. We’re going to greet them and bring some cookies. Go wash your face, Tanner. You have marker all over!” Mom hissed.
I didn’t want to meet the neighbors. I’d been watching them out my window for a week. They had a girl, seemingly my age. She wore too much pink. Tanner reappeared, the marker faded by ten percent, no more. Mom let out a sigh and ushered us out the door while she grumbled something unkind to our dad. Tanner and I snickered behind them.
The day was dreadfully hot, and the sun beat down on my back, making meeting the girl next door even more dreadful than it had to be. My brother and I took turns seeing who could shove each other harder before my dad interjected, swatting us from behind. Tanner gave one last groan before Mom rang the doorbell, holding her perfect plate of cookies. We appeared to be the perfect family, except none of us shared DNA, and nobody ever talked about it. I wasn’t the only one with a secret.
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