Whole Pieces by Ronie Kendig Page A

happened. But ever since he’d landed here, one nightmare after another had twisted and coiled around his good intentions.
    The greatest collision was yet to occur. Was this where that holocaust vision started? With one small boy?
    No no no no. This couldn’t happen. Hawk screamed out to God, shrieking for him to stop this madness.
    The night he never forgot—the one that devastated his whole life, smothered his will to live, to even exist—trembled, ready to implode on itself. Like a massive sinkhole, taking his plans, his hopes, his belief that he could right what he’d done wrong.
    â€œHawk.” Abda waited till their eyes locked again. “I have to go home or everyone will die.”

9
    â€œYou’ve been a very foolish soldier, Haytham.” The voice boomed through the darkness.
    But Hawk didn’t need to look to see who owned that voice. In fact, he’d rather not look, considering the facts, the most important of which was that there was no doubt Thomas Constant was peeved.
    â€œI’ve been called worse.” Hawk pressed himself toward the ground more, as if he could seep through the earth, and peered to the side.
    â€œOf that I have no doubt.” The master of time lay on his back, tossing something between his hands as he bounced his crossed leg in the air.
    â€œHaytham.” Constant said the name with a huff. Arching a refined eyebrow, he clucked his tongue three times. “I say your name not to remind you who you are, though your eyes betray what you think you are.”
    â€œAnd what is that?”
    â€œA failure, Haytham. A complete and utter failure—that being, of course, your thoughts of yourself. Not mine. I say your name because I am disappointed. You stole my watch, thought it would secure your victory.” A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Not so easy playing me, is it?”
    â€œPlaying God , you mean.”
    Constant eyed him with as much amusement as disdain. “You have something that belongs to me, and you might want to return it quick-spot and not dillydally.”
    â€œDil—”
    â€œDeath is on his way, right behind me.” Fierceness edged out Constant’s lighthearted demeanor. “You’ve already borrowed four hours that he wants back.” He puckered his lips. “You see, by breaking the laws—stealing something of mine—you also violated the fine print.”
    â€œI never signed a contract.”
    â€œOh, you signed, Haytham. You signed .” Vehemence reddened the man’s face as he almost dared Hawk to argue. “With the very blood in your veins, you bargained away your rights.” Constant jabbed a finger in Hawk’s face. “You stole from me, and that annoys me. You do realize, don’t you, that it is within my power to pull the ol’ proverbial plug on this gift of time I’ve given you.” He arched that eyebrow again, jutting his jaw toward the boy who lay quietly beside Hawk. “You’ve complicated things by befriending the boy. Imagine the mess you’d leave him in if I exerted my rights.”
    A protective nature that went above and beyond the soldier persona in Hawk leapt to the front. “Leave him out of this.”
    â€œOh no. Not possible. You’ve fully entangled him in your attempt to rewrite history.” He cocked his head at Hawk. “Have you any idea what you’ve done with the time—?” With a blink, he snapped his mouth shut, his eyes darting over Hawk’s face. “My, my, my. You honestly have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
    â€œI’m righting a wrong.”
    â€œOr are you wronging a right?”
    â€œThat doesn’t make sense.”
    â€œMore sense than you have at this point in time—and it’s mine, Haytham. You have annoyed me to no end, first stealing my watch, then squandering—”
    â€œI’m not squandering.” Okay, maybe he