The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2

by Laura C. Reden

  Cigarette smoke clouded the floor, and the slots chimed obnoxiously. It was easy for one’s senses to be overloaded. I tried to block it all out. Focus. I needed to hone in on my tether. But after walking a few laps around the casino and lobby, I found myself in the shadows of the hotel bar. Beck was nowhere to be found.

  The redheaded soul sat hunched over the bar as if he hadn’t moved an inch in the past decade. My shoulders dropped, letting go of the tension I’d been holding since Beck left me at the hot tub. Before opting to join the gentleman, I took one last peak—as far as my sight could travel. When Beck’s ashen hair was nowhere to be found, I sat. The man’s hair swept in front of his face, yet the hard lines of his jaw were still visibly tightened. He was like stone, petrified and historical.

  “Two of whatever he’s having, please,” I said to the bartender.

  I adjusted my barstool closer to the bar, and the gentleman ever so slowly turned to me. When he did, I could see the years of pain etched in his eyes. They were green with gold flecks. He was an Irishman. Middle-aged on the outside, but his soul reached well beyond the time I’d seen. He studied me, as I did him. I waited for him to speak first. Perhaps he didn’t want to talk at all. Either way, I’d be here to let him know he wasn’t alone. Even if it were for just a drink.

  The bartender placed two whiskey and sevens in front of us, and I handed him my credit card and ID.

  The bartender looked at my ID and smiled. “Happy Birthday, man!”

  “Thank you.”

  The Irishmen slid his empty glass to the bartender, who took it with an exasperated glint in his eyes. He’d probably been here longer than this evening alone. Maybe days or a week.

  “Huh,” he grunted after sipping his refreshed whiskey. “I haven’t come across one of you for a long time.”

  “Few and far between,” I nodded, slugging back a gulp. The amber liquid lashed out, burning my chest and settling in my belly.

  “They sure are.” He held his glass up to cheers mine. The glasses clinked together, and I slapped his back before finishing my double shot.

  “Do you have time for a story?” I asked. His need for camaraderie was nearly tangible, but he was slow to open up. He reminded me of Clyde in this way, which made me like him even more. I knew my story would breathe life back into him. He didn’t speak, but instead, turned his focus to me. I told him all about Beck. Her cancer. Our crash. Finally, her forgotten love. I’d lost all sense of time. One drink after another, and I could have talked for hours. Probably did. I thought he almost didn’t believe it, but by the time I finished speaking, I could see that he did. His jaw had slackened, and his eyes took on a softer tone. He not only believed me, but he was moved by my story.

  “She’s here?” he asked, peering around the bar.

  “Yeah. Somewhere.”

  “Damn. I’d never heard such a story.” He shook his head. An unheard story was hard to come by when you’d been around as long as we had.

  “Me neither! I was hoping you’d have some advice for me!” I took a deep swig of my drink. It was most likely the one that put me over the edge.

  He laughed, “Me? Oh, no, no, no. Just because I’ve seen a lot, doesn’t give me the right to hand out advice. Lord knows I’ve made a muck of my own lives.” He shook his head and took down the last of his drink, proceeding to watch his ice in the bottom of his glass as he swirled his tumbler around in small circles.

  “I guess you need more practice.” I laughed under my breath, and the stone man found the humor too. His hunched back bounced before his face fell flat once more.

  “Yes, fella. That’s surely what I need. But if I know one thing, it’s not in the cards.” He stood up and threw his jacket over his shoulder. He was a tall man, much taller than I expected. “Now, I don’t do this regularly, and I have half the mind to tell you not to listen to me. But I’m going to leave you with a bit to chew on.”

  “Alright then.” I swiveled in my barstool and clasped my hands in my lap awaiting the Irish advice from a man who hadn’t yet figured out his own life. Despite the many tries.

  “Tell her the truth,” he said, blunt and harsh—true to fashion.

  It hit harder than I’d imagined it would. The word truth, burning a hole in my stomach far worse than the whiskey. As if I’d been the one hiding it from her. I never wanted to hide anything from her.

  The man placed his gigantic hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Take care of yourself.”

  I nodded.

  He was halfway out of the bar when I yelled after him, “Hey, I didn’t catch your name!”

  “William!” He waved over his head as he disappeared around the corner.

  I woke abruptly that morning with a text from Brooklyn. The ping pounded in my head, nearly rupturing my temples.

  Meet at the buffet for breakfast in ten.

  I jumped to my feet, grasping at my temples. Water. I needed water. I opened up the mini-fridge and grabbed an overpriced water. Ripping the cap off, I guzzled it down. I brushed my teeth as I dressed one-handed. I barely had my shoes on by the time the hotel door slammed behind me. Beck’s room was quiet, and despite checking my phone a million times over, she had not texted, and I wondered if she would be at breakfast.

  I wasn’t hungry until I caught the smell of bacon and syrup wafting in the air as I neared the breakfast buffet. I immediately spotted Brooklyn and Payton at a table near the entry. I sat down next to Brooklyn and across from Payton, who repelled my eye contact.

  “Morning! How was your night last night? Did you ever find Becca?” Brooklyn asked.

  “No, I didn’t. She never stopped by your room?”

  Brooklyn shook her head but then lifted her gaze and said, “Speak of the devil!”

  I whipped around to see Beck, her face pale and puffy. She too avoided eye contact. Nolan was quick on her heels, and he had a distinct air to him. If there were a word for his aura. I’d say . . . smug.

  Nolan took the seat furthest away from me, leaving only two options for Beck to choose from. She opted to sit between Nolan and Payton. That’s how much distaste she had for me?

  “Where’s James?” I asked.

  Payton laughed, “You’ll be lucky if you see James before the plane ride home.” When our eyes met, there wasn’t an ounce of guilt behind them. I couldn’t tell if it was because she wasn’t sorry or she thought she hadn’t gotten caught.

  Nolan let out a muffled huff and added, “If he makes the plane.”

  Everyone seemed to agree it was a real possibility that James would be stuck here in Sin City. I gathered it was for no reason other than his lack of responsibility and short-sightedness. From what I saw last night in the bar, I was sure that he could be easily sidetracked by anyone who gave him their undivided attention.

  Our server approached with a full pot of coffee, and my stomach turned sour at the sight alone. After our coffees were poured, our table was released to the madness of the buffet. Everyone split, and I took special notice that Beck started in the opposite direction of Nolan. Had she seen what I saw last night? Did she suspect Nolan was with Payton? Perhaps the most important question was, did it matter?

  I took a clean plate into my hands and snuck behind her at the fruit and yogurt bar.

  “You’re avoiding me . . .” I saw no point in beating around the bush when I had so little time to talk to her. It wouldn’t be long before we were in earshot of one of her friends. And in a matter of seconds, she could be at the omelet station, and I’d be standing in the middle of the bustling buffet . . . with Nolan.

  “No!” Beck said in a sharp tone.

  “Yes, you are. Strawberries?” I held a spoonful of strawberries between us and she paused, softening a little before moving her plate underneath the spoon. Ripe red strawberries rolled across her plate.

  “OK! I am. It’s awkward! And I’m sorry about last night. I feel like an ass. It’s just, it shouldn’t have happened,” Beck admitted.

  It was a blow but
not an unexpected one. I’d already had the night to feed upon her regrets. I pushed them aside and trudged forward. “Beck, we’re friends, right?” I’d used this a time or two on her before, and it worked well. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t now.

  “Um, yeah. Sure.”

  Unconvincing. I furrowed my brows. “Whipped cream?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. Interesting, how she was so sure she wanted whipped cream on her strawberries but not so sure that her neighbor from when she was eight—her two times over husband, her soulmate—was worthy of such a simple title as friend. I slopped the whipped cream on top of her fruit, and it was the glue that held the berries together.

  “Don’t think for one second that our friendship is so easily disposable. If you want to forget this kiss, it’s as good as forgotten,” I said, hushed.

  Beck stopped and looked up to meet my eyes for the first time since our kiss in the hot tub. And in lieu of a response, she nodded.

  Just because lying was so easy for me, it didn’t make it acceptable. William’s advice rang through my head. I knew that deceit was wrong. But it came with the territory. And if Beck was more comfortable thinking I’d forgotten last night’s kiss, then so be it. The truth was, I was like an elephant. Every detail of all my lives was preciously preserved in my memory. Except for the first few lives, that is. They were . . . fuzzy. I presumed this is how Beck’s memory would work as well. In a couple more lifetimes, she wouldn’t remember I had lied to her. And my highest hopes were that she wouldn’t remember a time when her love for me fell absent.

  Our group ate breakfast while rehashing the night before. Trying to figure out how each puzzle piece fit together—the when’s and how’s of how everyone ended up separated. I caught a few stolen glances between Nolan and Payton while Beck moved her food around on her plate absentmindedly. James showed halfway through breakfast somewhere between our first and second helpings of unlimited food.

  “James! You’re alive! I was beginning to worry!” Payton called out.

  “No, you weren’t!” James said.

  “You’re right, I wasn’t!” Payton laughed.

  James approached our table, and his hungry eyes scanned the massacre of dishes and uneaten food on the table. He grabbed Nolan’s shoulder and squeezed it tight, intending to inflict as much pain as possible, but Nolan was nearly twice his size. “Oh, man! You’re eating Polish sausage? That’s a bold move!”

  Nolan pulled away from James’s grip. “No! It’s good! You should try it!”

  My stomach turned at the very sight of his sausage link. Mixed splotches of brown and grey. Three down, one left to go.

  “I’m all good! I think I’ll pass on the water-rhea!” James took off in search of food as the table chuckled in his wake.

  The chatter continued in James’s absence, but when he returned with his breakfast, the conversation took on a whole new life. It was crude and brash, and I loved every moment. Shots flew in every direction. Some aimed at my hair, some fired toward James’s sex-capades from the night before, but most . . . Most were aimed towards Nolan and his grumbling stomach.

  He tried to play it cool, but when his knuckles turned white, and sweat beaded at his hairline, I about rolled out of my chair laughing. I wanted desperately to control the sound that exploded from our table, but I couldn’t think about the other guests’ dining experience with that ferocious rumbling coming from the depths of Nolan’s intestines. No, all I could think about was air! I needed to breathe but couldn’t! My head was nearly resting on the table, I was so doubled over, and tears streamed from my eyes. All of my worries had been chased away by laughter. Every time I thought I had a handle on it, Nolan’s stomach would grumble again, and the group would erupt into a fit of laughter. Even Beck. Especially Beck.

  Finally, when Nolan couldn’t play tough anymore, he slammed his fist down on the table and said, “Screw this!” and stormed off. Through teary eyes, I could just make out Nolan trotting off, tail tucked as he ran straight to one of the nearest restrooms.

  It was the best thing I’d seen in years, and I wished I hadn’t eaten so much because my stomach was taking a beating from laughter. There was no doubt in my mind about having pulled at least one abdominal muscle. Brooklyn rubbed her eyes so viciously, mascara ran down her cheeks, making her look like a panda bear. Beck wiped away the tears from her swollen eyes. If she enjoyed it more than she should have—and I think she did—I knew why. She must have had her suspicions about Nolan’s loyalty.

  By the time breakfast was over, I had a new fondness for Beck’s friends. James and his endless stream of dialogue were truly a brightly burning candle. One day, I imagined I’d miss having him around. And when the dust settled, Brooklyn put eye drops into her eyes, the excess streaming down her mascara-stained cheeks, before winking at me with a marked sense of pride.

  Chapter 13

  With breakfast over, the group retreated to their rooms. I lingered. It was an invitation for Beck to pick up where we’d left off, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She turned, playing with the sleeves of her shirt. Only after she opened her mouth did she close it again and stare at her shoes. She didn’t have to say anything to express herself. I could feel it in the surrounding air. Her worry collided with anticipation and burst into a plume of wonder. It was enough to make my heart swell. At the very least, she wasn’t mad at me.

  “What are you going to do today? It’s your last day in Sin City, and your boyfriend has food poisoning,” I said.

  “He’s not my boyfriend!” Beck’s face filled with distaste.

  Surprise washed over me. “Wait, he’s not?”

  Beck’s eyes scanned the casino, looking for answers in the flashing lights, and when she found what she was looking for, she said, “Come on!” She grabbed my arm, pulling me to her side.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have living to do!”

  A snort escaped me. “And what does that mean, specifically?”

  “We’re going bungee jumping!”

  I was thankful she didn’t turn around to see my face when she said it. If she had, she would have witnessed an awful shade of green in my cheeks. My gait slowed naturally as I instinctively tried to postpone the leap. But she only tightened her grip and charged forward. Sometimes the girl knew just what she wanted. Who was I to get in the way? I swallowed the sour taste of fear and told myself to suck it up. I had to be brave for Beck, and that’s precisely what I intended to do. I had the entire trip to the launch pad to get myself there.

  I caught up to her, side by side, and scanned her expression. It was cold, her eyes vacant. She didn’t want to live. She just had something to prove. My guess was that it had to do with Nolan. But if she wanted to prove to herself that she didn’t need him to have a memorable twenty-first birthday. Who was I to judge? I loved her either way, and I’d be jumping off the tallest skyscraper in the state to prove it to her.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” I asked, my long legs in stride to keep up with her pace.

  “Absolutely!” She continued, her sights set on hailing a taxi.

  Beck didn’t glance in my direction until we were inside the cab, and even then, it was brief. She looked away the second I returned her attention. I knew she was hurting inside, and I wanted desperately to take that away for her, but it was hard to do when she refused to let me in. I pulled my gaze away from the back of her head and stared out my window.

  It was a short distance to the destination, but the traffic caused the ride to be much longer than expected. When we arrived, I tipped the cab driver and helped Beck out of the car. She placed her hand in mine, and I gripped it tight, not wanting to let go. She pulled her hand back when she was upright, and I couldn’t help the wash of disappointment that spread through my chest.

  “Do you want to talk about—”

  “About what?” Beck asked in a tone that was intended to be light and airy but only sounded disingenuous.

  I nodded,
taking the hint that now was not the time for her innermost confessions. Perhaps it would have to wait until after we lost our breakfast.

  We signed up for the jump and were thrust into a twenty-minute educational course. They taught us what to expect, what to do, and what not to do. Beck’s focus was intense, but I mainly paid attention to her. Dying would be a bitch, but it didn’t hold as much weight for me as it did everyone else. I thought back to William, the Irishman, and imagined he would jump without even taking the safety course. Me, on the other hand, I’d just let the lesson float in one ear and out the other while I dreamed about my wife.

  The time had come for our jump, despite my efforts to stop time altogether. The elevator filled with tension so thick that Beck was having trouble keeping her breathing under control. Her face flushed, and her hands were restless at her side. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What? Don’t give me that look!”

  “You’re really scared, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “No, I’m not!”

  I stared at her in disbelief and called her out on her bluff. “Liar!”

  A sharp bing signified we were at the top of the skyscraper, and Beck jumped a fitting mile high. I bit my cheek as Beck’s body betrayed her. The elevator doors opened, and I tried my damnedest to hold it in, but I was busting at the seams. A loud boisterous laugh escaped me and I covered my mouth with not one but both hands. The angrier Beck got, the harder I laughed. I could hardly hear anything the guy said when he was binding my feet. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I clutched my stomach. It was breakfast all over again as my nerves transformed into hysteria.

  “Stop that!” Beck hissed as her feet were being bound. The smallest curvature of her lips told me that in some small way, I was helping to distract her. It wasn’t on purpose, though. I couldn’t help the fact that she pretended to be so confident, but when the time had come, she was crumbling to pieces. It was so Beck.