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

by Laura C. Reden

  The two men helped Beck and me to our feet, and gave us one last rundown of instructions before walking us out to the edge of the building. Beck and I stood on two red Xs in front of an endless panoramic view. The air was cool and the sky cloudless. The world bustled below, unaware of our pounding hearts above. I looked down at the congestion of traffic below, and I couldn’t help feeling relieved being so far removed from it all. If I wasn’t about to plunge eight hundred feet down, I might see how this would remind Beck of a bird in flight.

  Triple checks were being made on our safety before we were told to walk to the edge. I smiled at Beck, but my face fell flat when I saw she was not having the same experience as I was. Her face was pale as a ghost, and her eyes the size of golf balls.

  “Hey, Beck. Look at me!” Ever so slowly she turned her head, and our eyes locked. “You are an incredibly strong woman. You don’t need Nolan or anyone else for that matter. You’ve got this!” Beck puckered her lips and blew out a breath she’d been holding tight. “We’re going to do this together, OK? You wanted to live, and this was on your list. Right here, right now, you’re going to check this off! You’re going to be a bird, and it’s going to be just like you’re flying! You still want to fly right?”

  Beck nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes.

  “OK, I’ll be right there with you. I promise, Beck. I’ll be right by your side! Do you trust me?”

  Beck sucked in a breath and nodded once more. Her hands were balled into white fists at her sides.

  “Alright, I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to tip forward. On my count! One!”

  A small squeal escaped Beck’s throat.

  “. . . Two!”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Beck said under her breath. I curled my toes in my shoes and felt the ledge give way underneath them. Suddenly I was back on the New River Bridge on the cold, wet night that I met Beck.

  “Three! Go!”

  Shit! I closed my eyes and let my body fall forward. Gravity sucked me into its vortex as I plunged downward. Time sped and slowed to a crawl, all at the same moment. Beck let out a guttural scream that slipped into the distance between us. The freefall was one I’d felt before and similar to what I would have felt if I had jumped off the New River Bridge. I braced myself for the darkness. The darkness that only followed death. In the moment, bursting with adrenaline, I’d forgotten that I would open my eyes once the fall was over.

  This jump was made for the thrill. Coming close to death but not yet touching it. It wasn’t a thrill to me—to someone who had died a dozen times too many. And no matter how many times I might take a jump like this, my life would start over again. And again.

  I was lost in the moment of falling. Wrapped up in the feeling of dying—without death—that I didn’t realize something was wrong. Off. Beck’s scream was not by my side. And when I heard it, the feral sound stretched until it was gaping between us.

  I opened my eyes to see the world spinning and tumbling. I flailed around, trying to get an understanding of the world as I knew it. The tension on the bungee reached its max capacity and recoiled like a rubber band. Blood rushed to my head and my feet pulled before I was falling in reverse. This was an entirely new feeling and one I liked even less. But it was on my up that I could see that Beck’s bungee had never left the platform.

  My speed slowed until I was nearly floating in midair. Then the fall came again. And again. And again. When the torture was finally over, I hung upside down, suspended from the skyscraper, my eyes wanting to bulge from my head as the pressure built. My arms outstretched overhead, and I swung slightly as they pulled me up. All I could think was, She didn’t jump. I couldn’t believe she didn’t jump! Beck didn’t know it yet, but she was my partner. We didn’t have one lifetime together but an infinite amount of time on this earth. Had she known that, I’m confident, she would have jumped. But because she didn’t, I’d spend the rest of my life getting her back.

  When I breached the platform, and my body was finally resting upright, my head spun. I could feel the blood funneling down to my extremities. Chasing away the pins and needles. When my vision finally cleared, I turned to look at Beck, who hadn’t spoken a single word. Her eyes were huge, her hands cupping her mouth. A small squeak sounded but nothing comprehensible. We stared at each other while the men untied my legs.

  “I thought we had living to do?” I cocked my head to the side.

  “I’m so sorry!” Beck finally said.

  “It’s OK. It’s my fault. When I said, I’d be by your side, I assumed, that went both ways. But I was mistaken,” I said, shaking my head and pretending not to care. But the truth was, I was so going to get her back!

  “I’m seriously so sorry! I couldn’t do it!” Beck grabbed her stomach, still shaken.

  I scrambled to my feet, a little unsteady, and held my arms out for a hug. She came bounding into my arms, and I wrapped them around her tight. The smell of coconut brought me back to a time when I was tangled up with her in bedsheets. I wanted to live in the memory but forced myself back to the present. Another nervous man was being strapped and lectured. He peered at me nervously.

  “It’s OK, really. But you owe me,” I said with a smile.

  Beck laughed a wildly nervous laugh. “Deal!” she said. Her breath was warm against my neck, and I didn’t want to let her go.

  She pulled away. “How was it? Tell me everything!” Beck asked as we walked to a nearby lookout point. The same magnificent view but with the safety of guardrails and plexiglass.

  “It was amazing . . . really like spreading your wings and flying,” I said.

  Beck tipped her head back and laughed out loud. I joined her and shook my head. “Honestly, though, the worst part was opening my eyes and seeing that you weren’t by my side.”

  Beck’s laughter fizzled out and her eyes glistened. The air began to shift between us, and I could feel her coming back to me. Her face regained some color, and her cheeks turned pink.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” Beck said, looking at her feet.

  “About leaving me in the hot tub? You know I had to listen to the world’s worst rendition of Happy Birthday all by my lonesome, right? And then I gave our cake to an old grumpy couple. I didn’t even get to make a wish.”

  “About the kiss.” Beck corrected me.

  “Oh?”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I think I just drank too much. Got swept away.” Beck waved her hand in the air dismissively.

  And if I looked just deep enough, through the hurt of her cutting words, through the fear of losing her again, I could see it. She was saying what she thought she needed to say in order to protect herself. I remembered a time when she admitted to having a nasty habit of destroying her chances at happiness. She was her own worst enemy. The hand that held her down.

  “Well, I sometimes do that to women.”

  Beck snorted, and unfortunately, we both knew I was being sarcastic.

  “You know, it’s like I feel this weird connection with you. I feel so . . . so grounded. Is that a thing? I don’t know. I just don’t want to jeopardize that with something as stupid as Nolan drama. You were my best friend. And I’d like it if we went back to that,” Beck said.

  I could see right through her. The shift in her eyes. Her posture. She was afraid of the feelings she had inside. Perhaps the memories too? So, she was building a wall. Brick by brick.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Beck stared out at the cars below. “Anything.” Her tone was warm and inviting.

  “Did you want to jump?”

  Beck looked at me, eyebrows knitted. At first, it appeared that she thought the question was simple. Stupid even. But then, when she really thought about it, her thoughts delved deeper and deeper. “I did. I wanted to,” she said so in question.

  “So, why didn’t you?”

  Beck wasn’t surprised by this question. She knew it was the difficult part that followed her first answer. S
he wanted to, but something stopped her. She stopped her. But why? Why would anyone get in their own way?

  “I was afraid.”

  “Afraid of what, though?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Of dying!” Beck shifted uncomfortably. It was my cue not to lay off but to push further. Dig deeper.

  “Did you really think you were going to die if you jumped?” I asked.

  Beck’s cheeks turned pink. Her hand raised, then fell aimlessly. “I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” Her voice rose in frequency.

  “I just want you to be honest with yourself. That’s all. It would be nice if you were honest with me too.” I mumbled the last part.

  Beck thrust a hand on her hip and huffed out a sharp breath. I stood still, watching the world below. Then I took a step onto the bottom rail.

  “What are you doing!” Beck hissed, looking over her shoulder.

  I rested my forehead on the plexiglass and slowly lifted my hands away. The view was almost as clear as standing on the launch pad before jumping. “Join me.”

  It took a moment, but Beck did. I reached for her hand and pulled it away from the glass. She whimpered, but this time, I didn’t let go. When her breathing gave way to slow and even breaths, I could see the thrill in her smile.

  “Wow,” she said, turning as much as she could to look at me as our foreheads pressed against the window and our hands locked tight at our sides.

  “Hey! You can’t be up there!” A security guard yelled.

  Beck squeaked, and we both made a mad dash to jump off the rail. We awarded ourselves an escort down the one-hundred-and-three-story elevator. Snickering all the way down. And nothing in this world felt better than when I looked into her green eyes, and I knew the smile on her face was there because of me.

  Chapter 14

  The day warmed as the sun crawled high in the sky. Traffic moved all around us while Beck and I stood still. She was lost. She was away on a birthday weekend that had turned out to be nothing like what she planned. I wondered what her weekend would have looked like if I hadn’t tagged along. Perhaps Nolan wouldn’t have found himself alone with Payton. I couldn’t help but feel responsible for the turn of events. I needed to make it up to Beck. Make sure she had an unforgettable trip.

  “So, you’ve always wanted to bungee jump, but”—I shook my head and sighed—“what else have you always wanted to do? Maybe there’s still time,” I said, checking my watch.

  Beck rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?”

  “Nope!”

  Beck accepted her fate with a heavy sigh. Then a look I was beginning to recognize crept across her face. “I should get that tattoo. Yeah, I should totally get a tattoo!” Beck said, eyes widening in excitement.

  “Then you should! Let’s do it!” I said.

  “You’re going to get one too, right?” Beck asked.

  Me? I’d had my share of tattoos. In one life, I was covered with them. Not just from arm to arm but everywhere. They’d become addictive. The art was beautiful when fresh. Until it wasn’t. Until I wanted something different. When the time came, I wanted to express myself differently and couldn’t. It’s true that I enjoyed them, but I also never had one I didn’t regret at one time or another. “This one’s all you . . .”

  “Oh, come on, you baby!” said Beck in a playful tone, shoving my arm.

  “Oh! I’m the baby?” I stopped walking and slowly raised my finger to point at the now distant skyscraper that I’d leapt off, while she stayed permanently affixed to the surface in safety.

  “OK! OK! I take it back! Please, let it go! You’re not a baby.”

  I remained frozen, pointing, unsatisfied.

  “You’re . . . brave!” Beck pled.

  As soon as she said it, I only hungered for more. “And?”

  “And . . . adventurous!” Beck said.

  “And?” I prodded. Beck tilted her head in protest, but I encouraged her to keep going with a wave of my hand.

  “And . . . spirited, kind, um . . . attractive . . . kind of . . .”

  My accusatory pointer finger fell from the skyscraper, and I closed the distance between us. She stood her ground when I lowered down to her. Slowly. Slowly enough to gauge if she would let me kiss her. If her eye contact told me anything, it was that she was open to the idea of another kiss. One that was sober and in the open daylight of clear cognitive thought and emotions. I brought my lips close to hers before brushing by them. Trailing my lips against her cheek, making my way to her ear. Then I whispered, “Kind of?”

  Beck let out the breath she’d been holding in, and I couldn’t contain the smile that pulled across my face. The tension, having peaked, came crashing down around us. Beck took her frustration out on me, wailing on me two palms at a time as I flinched away and laughed at her. This was going to be fun. I liked this Beck. The one that didn’t have impending doom on the edge of her heart. The one who fought back.

  “You! Little! Errrr!”

  I hailed a taxi as Beck stole little glances at me from behind the curtain of her hair. I pretended not to notice, but it wasn’t any good with the foolish grin I had plastered on my face. I couldn’t for the life of me hide how I was feeling inside. We had that in common. But by the time we pulled up to the tattoo parlor, it was clear that Beck was feeling something else entirely.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked.

  “Yeah!” Beck squeaked.

  I’d heard that confidence not too long ago. “You know, because it’s not too late to fail at this, too,” I said and smiled.

  “Stop! I’m going to do it!” Beck said, convincing herself more than me.

  We walked into the parlor, and the buzz of a tattoo gun was the first thing that brought me back to the hours I’d spent in the chair. Drawings covered the walls and the man who greeted us alike.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked. His thin frame covered in colorful ink and large studs adorned his ears.

  “Hi, um, this one was thinking about getting a tattoo today. Do you have availability for a walk-in?” I asked, not staring at the man himself or his tattoos but my reflection on his shaved head.

  The man looked at his watch. “I guess it depends on what you want. I have an appointment at 3:00, and I can squeeze you in if it’s simple enough. Do you know what you want?” The man looked between Beck and me.

  “I do. And yes, it’s simple,” Beck said.

  I was surprised that she already knew what she wanted. She’d put some thought into this before. I wondered what she valued enough that she would display it on her body for years to come. I hoped whatever she chose wouldn’t be a part of the lie she’d grown up believing. Because then, I’d feel obligated to speak up.

  “Then let’s do this. I’m Zack, and I’ll get some paperwork for you. You can fill it out while I draw you up a sketch and get the quote ready. What is it you wanted to get?”

  I looked down at Beck, curious. “I wanted to get an infinity symbol. Right here.” Beck pointed to her side. My heart just about dropped into my stomach. The girl remembered more than she led on.

  “Why?” I mumbled under my breath. Barely audible.

  Beck peeped at me before accepting the paperwork from her soon-to-be tattoo artist and filled out her information.

  “Why?” I asked again, slightly louder.

  Beck stopped writing and looked up at me, “Why what?”

  “Why that?”

  Beck shrugged. I thought something profound would come next. A clue, perhaps. Or a memory that she made into a dream. But when she said, “I don’t know. I like it!” I had to second guess if it was a sign at all. Maybe I was trying to will a memory that simply wasn’t there. Did she like it in how girls liked to draw hearts? Or did she like it in the way that resonated with her on a deep and meaningful level?

  I watched Beck make a small x on the human body drawing of her paperwork. She wanted her infinity symbol on the side of her ribs in a place th
at I imagined her bra would cover. Hidden, intimate. I waited on a bench while she approved the sketch and paid the cashier. When the artist was ready, I moved a chair to be by her side.

  Beck removed her bra and blushed a bright crimson as she shoved her sexy undergarment in her purse. She lay down on the chair and lifted her shirt high, struggling to keep her chest hidden and get comfortable at the same time. My eyes trailed down her ribcage, and my heart quickened.

  “I need you to rest your arm over your head like this.” Zack held his arm against his ear, and Beck imitated him. She looked at me while he wiped down her skin. Tiny goosebumps pimpled her side, and worry pricked the corners of her eyes.

  “Hold my hand?” Beck asked.

  I rolled my chair closer to her, took her hand in mine, and held it tight, stroking her knuckles with my thumb. “You’ve got this. Why don’t you tell me why you choose the infinity symbol? Other than just liking it. There’s got to be more to it than that.”

  Zack tested his gun, and Beck flinched at the sound.

  “It’s OK, honey. I’m not starting yet. I’ll let you know first,” he said.

  Beck nodded, embarrassed, before she turned her attention back to me. “Um, I think that sometimes . . .” She looked back down at the gun and struggled to focus. But I needed her to. I needed her to focus on what she was telling me. “I think that, there are things in this world that . . .” Her eyes dropped once again.

  “OK, honey. We’re going to start. Just a light pricking feeling. Try not to jump.”

  “In this world that, what Beck?” I asked.

  “That never truly—”

  The gun pierced her skin and Beck yelped, jumping two feet into the air. Zack pulled his gun back and yelled, “Fuck!”

  “Nope!” Beck leaped off of the bed. “Nope. I can’t! I can’t do it!” Beck became unglued, her eyes fear-stricken and her body tremulous.

  I didn’t have to ask if she was sure. I knew. Everyone knew. I looked back to Zack, whose mouth still gaped open, the gun still lifted into the air. “We're going to take an intermission. But if she finds the courage to come back and finish—which she won’t—we’ll call and make an appointment first. I’ll get your card on the way out,” I said. Beck was already halfway out of the parlor, and the door was swinging closed behind her.