East Two
The Siren
She is life. . . for me. . .
If I hadn’t been experiencing the calming effects of alcohol, it is very possible I would’ve passed out.
This reveal of how my father came to be was jarring.
Nothing inside me worried that Styx was lying or exaggerating.
His words were blaring honesty, fear, amazement, gratitude, and most of all…
concern about my future. Plainly said, my father, Lennox Gentry, was biologically half the mystical creature I had adored almost half of my life.
Now I had to know where I stood, physically and mentally, with such knowledge.
What did all of it make me? Had I misinterpreted my feelings toward Saleeni because we share some sort of mystical DNA?
Had I actually been missing a distant family member?
Or had she been drawn to me because of who—what I am.
All these thoughts were bombarding my mind while Styx removed my wet shoes and socks, telling me, “I’d suggest you put on dry clothes, but I’m guessing they will only get wet soon.
” He pulled my wet shirt over my head and tossed it in a white plastic basket.
“The whole ‘siren’ thing isn’t a myth either. She will call for you.”
My mouth opened, but I was clueless about how to articulate any of the multiplying questions.
Noticing my face, Styx admitted, “Lennox, as a young man, had the same expression when I had to tell him the truth.” His voice was deep, almost sorrowful, as he lifted my bare feet to slide them toward the end of the bed. The process had left my shocked body lying back on the mattress.
My mouth opened again but still refused to operate. I could only stare at the man who had rocked my world. Something I had thought impossible with all I had already learned.
After placing a pillow under my head, he covered me with a spare blanket, my feet hanging just over the edge. “Rest. We have tomorrow for answers.”
Even though earlier I’d been tempted to strangle this man several times, I reached out to him when he started to leave my side.
He grabbed my hand, palm to palm, forearm to forearm, thumbs interlinked.
Leaning to me, face to face, he insisted, “Kid, listen to me. I won’t ever let you go.
Whatever you need from me, or whoever you need me to be,” he rattled my hand to hold my attention that was already glued to him, “I have it in me to be it. Understand?” His jaw locked and his brown eyes watered.
“I stayed by your dad’s side until I couldn’t in order to save his life. Your life.”
The memory of that fateful day flashed in my mind.
It was my tenth Life Date, AKA birthday, and I was on the back of Dad’s bike for the first time on a ride with his club members.
I squinted, hearing the bullets ring through the air, all over again, and my dad calling out to me before he fell to the unforgiving earth.
Two tears slipped down Styx’s rugged face. It felt like one was for Dad. One for me.
Through my nose, I inhaled as hard as I could, then told him, “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t release me. “Tell me you can sense I ain’t lying. That you know I walk the earth only for you now.”
Energy shot from his arm to mine, solidifying his certainty. His dedication to me was profound. It was exactly what a young man—creature—needed when learning he was clueless about his creation.
My lungs struggled through the raw moment between us, but I promised, “I sense only truth.”
This man, a true Vice President of a one-percenter motorcycle club, exhaled as if I had sung him a hymn directly from God. Then, he let my hand go, turned off the lamp, stood to his impressive height, and walked toward the non-steel door.
Shockingly, my mouth finally made a noise. It was a question, but possibly not an expected one. “Is this the part of you that Noma loved so much?”
From the glow of a nightlight in the bathroom, I saw his feet come to a sudden stop, and his shoulders shake as tears owned him for a few seconds. He never faced me as he stood straight again, setting his broad shoulders back. “Maybe… but she hated me, too.”
Styx left the room, shutting the door.
Lying there, I didn’t move. I let the heat of the blanket try to calm my nerves.
I let my lungs attempt to regulate and breathe properly again.
I let the exhaustion of just driving straight across America for the last fifty-something hours overtake me.
Then, as if my body knew better than I, my eyes closed and I drifted to sleep.
The sensation of lying in water, gentle waves rocking me back and forth, was how I began to wake from my fatigue.
The warmth of the conduit was an indescribable lure.
It wasn’t sexual. It was dreamlike. Intoxicating without ever becoming inebriated.
Influenced without losing control. It almost made me feel stronger.
More stable. Anchored… until I stopped believing in the moment.
Opening my eyes, I sucked in air when I realized I wasn’t in water at all. I was at the door, my finger pressing the first number of the security code to exit.
I stumbled back a few steps, not sure whether to trust what was happening. Whether or not anything was even happening at all. Am I sleepwalking?
Just then, the sensation of the irresistible rocking water returned, my eyelids becoming heavy as my body swayed, wanting more of this soothing sensation.
Fighting the urge to surrender, I shook my head and backed away further.
Blood surged through my body, carrying a fear of the unknown.
After learning my father was part of whatever Saleeni truly was, the playing field had now changed.
When I faced her, I was no longer only facing a boy’s childhood dream.
I was facing a future I hadn’t seen coming, nor asked for, in the measure I was receiving.
Suddenly, by force, my body flew forward, my chest slamming into the door.
As soon as I could, I lifted my palm and smacked the door I was pinned against. I roared at her, “Hey! This ain’t how this is goin’ down!”
Then I waited.
I felt her release me. My body became mine again, and I hated it.
What?
Extremely confused by the chaos of emotions and needs battling inside me, I mumbled, “Thank you,” assuming she could hear me from wherever she was.
One could say stubborn streaks ran deep in my family because, as if something otherworldly wasn’t happening, I straightened my shirt, my still-damp jeans, and backed away, pretending to be unaffected. Then I ran to the bathroom to run water over my face, which had broken out in a sweat.
As soon as that refreshing water splashed against my skin, I peered into the mirror.
Sonofabitch. My reflection sparkled, and all the longing I’d carried for her over the years crashed into me like an animal instinct of the ages.
One that had been created before man ever existed, and I barely had a choice about whether to obey it.
Especially when her responsive pain started to echo in my soul, I grabbed my chest, wincing in equal discomfort because I wasn’t sure what to believe. I hadn’t appreciated being summoned seconds ago with my will controlled and not my own. Is that what is happening again?
Unexpectedly, her need for me shot through my ribs like a bullseye into my heart, sending me backward and crashing into the tub, tearing the shower curtain clean from the rod. Then a high-pitched scream tortured my eardrums.
I was thrashing from inner and outer pain when Styx suddenly appeared in front of me. The only reason I stayed grounded at all was because his expression appeared alarmed but not horrified. Over Saleeni’s wails, I couldn’t hear him speak but I read his lips that said, “Why are you fighting this?”
I could barely think as I shouted, “It’s so loud!”
His eyes widened. Horror now present. I read his mouth say, “High-pitched sound?”
I twisted in pain. “Yes! Yes! Won’t stop!”
Clearly, he wasn’t hearing it; however, he appeared well aware that something tragic, if not life-altering, was occurring. “Maddox!” his lips yelled to me. “Something’s wrong!”
Hands still over my ears, I squinted, studying his mouth as if it were a lifeline. “With her?”
“Yes!” He stood, grounding his feet, preparing to carry my load, then held out his hand as he had a couple of hours ago. He was already proving true to his promise, being whatever I needed.
I grunted in pain as I dared to move a hand from my ear and slap our forearms together.
Our bond locked once again, and Styx gritted his teeth while yanking me up and out of the tub. We both bumped into the sink and the small counter behind him while he was trying to catch my weight.
I was struggling so hard to manage the pain and yanking sensation attacking parts of me I could only describe as my invisible soul. “Styx.” So overwhelmed, I fell into his shoulder. “I can’t function.”
Abrasive hands grabbed my face and shook. “Hear me!”
Again, I stared at his mouth, desperate for guidance.
“Only me!” my grandfather demanded with the dominance I needed.
It captured my full attention. I blew out air, trying so hard to do what he said.
Then, all of a sudden, the shriek began to fade out as Styx’s voice faded in. “Only me.”
I inhaled, breathing now that he was winning an ounce of control over me. “What’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know,” he was trembling, “but the last time I heard that shriek… my mermaid died.”
My body wanted to cave in disbelief, but my heart, my spirit, demanded I react with urgency.
He nodded. “Get to her, Maddox. Now.” His hands dropped from my face. “Or possibly lose her forever.”