Read My Calling for Free Online

again, practically dragging me behind her. When we get to her front door, the one I’ve stared at more times than I can count, she pats her pockets as though there’s really any room for anything in there as tight as they are.
    I hold up her keys, dangling them in front of her. Saylor grabs for them but I pull them away quickly, chuckling as I do. Sorting through the keyring, I find the only possible one that could be her apartment key and have the door open in seconds. Saylor slides past me, making a dash for the bathroom and my laughter dissipates as I hear her lunch coming back up. When I told Eddie I’d take care of Saylor, holding back her hair as she pukes was not what I had intended.
    Closing the door behind me, I lock it with the deadbolt and the chain then follow the sounds of Saylor heaving. The bathroom light is on and Saylor is on her knees, praying to the porcelain gods. I take a seat on the edge of the tub, leaning over and gathering her hair in my hand but not saying a word. As Saylor continues to get the alcohol out of her system, a chill runs down my back at the amount of pink and purple I’m surrounded by.
    “You… can… go,” Saylor mumbles, cradling her head in her arms.
    I stand up, letting Saylor think I’m following her directions. Instead, I open the hall closet and find a pink washcloth with lace. I do my best not to barf myself at all the frills as I run it under some cold water. Without warning, I press the damp cloth against the back of Saylor’s neck who responds with a relieved “ahh.”
    Maneuvering carefully, I shimmy myself beside Saylor, pulling her onto my lap as she curls into a ball, looking, and probably feeling, like death turned over. She buries her head against my chest, murmuring about how awful she feels. Little does she know, she’s going to feel even worse in the morning. I choose to bite my tongue and keep that little tidbit to myself.
    Fifteen minutes later, Saylor’s snores tear through the tiny, and way too feminine, bathroom. Bracing myself, I stand up, cradling her in my arms and walking us to her bedroom. Gently, I place her in the middle of her bed, unhooking her ridiculously tall high heels and pulling the blanket over her body. I snatch a pillow off the bed and toss it on the floor to make my own pallet to sleep on. After lying on the floor for barely five minutes, I thank God that Saylor doesn’t drink often because my back can’t handle this stiff floor.
    My eyes, already adjusted to the darkness, roam the room until they fall on a frame with a picture I’m familiar with. It’s Eddie and Saylor on her fifteenth birthday. He finally let her under the GSX and the grin of her face tells the rest of the story. Leaning up on my elbow, I pick the frame up from the nightstand and somehow, still manage to see the exact same Saylor that’s passed out drunk on the bed.
    “Look, Eddie, I told you I’d take care of her but this is pushing the limit.”
    In my mind, I can hear Eddie’s high pitched, yet still manly, laugh and I shake my head, joining his laughter. Man, I’d love for him to be around to see Saylor and deal with all the girlie shit she’s put me through but he’s not and there’s no one to blame except me.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 7
     
     
    Beck
     
    The strong aroma of coffee tickles my nose, bringing me out of the hour of sleep I’ve had. After I was finally satisfied that Saylor wasn’t going to puke again and choke in her sleep, I let my mind rest and drifted off to sleep when the clock said four. Now the red lights on the clock are telling me it’s a little after five and Saylor is sitting beside me on the floor, tempting me with a mug of potent coffee under my nose.
    Leaning up on my elbow, I accept the cup she’s holding in front of my face and take a sip. It’s the most disgusting cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted but I bite back my expression of distaste for Saylor’s sake. Choking it down is a bad idea because the