19. Levi
Chapter 19
Levi
“Pass that over when you’re done,” I tell G as he wipes down the thirty-pounders he used for today’s workout.
He holds the spray bottle out and tips his chin, gesturing to Spence, who’s on the treadmill. “Should we wait for him?”
He’s been doing interval sprints and fielding what sound to be very aggressive phone calls since we got here.
“I need two minutes,” he announces before immediately going back to his phone call—and bursting into a full sprint on an incline.
I don’t know how long I watch him before Greedy steps in front of me and presses two fingers to the bottom of my chin, closing my mouth for me.
“You’re kind of a man whore. You know that, right?”
I snort. He’s not wrong. With a slow, sultry up and down, I drag my gaze over his body. “I like to think of it as being generous with my appreciation.”
He grins in response, his eyes dancing.
I smile right back, relishing in the much-needed lightness of the moment.
Unfortunately, the lightness doesn’t keep.
“Listen, Leev.” He roughs a hand through his sweaty hair. “About last night—”
“It’s fine.” I shrug. I’m not all that interested in getting into it with him again.
Last night, I felt like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial candy jar, being scolded by a displeased parent. Except when I was a kid, I got beat rather than scolded. Beat for things I did wrong. Beat for things I didn’t even do.
It’s nothing new, a person going off on me for no rational reason, though I’d be much happier if I never had to experience that again. Especially if the lashing is coming from one of my partners.
Hunter put a stop to the bickering and called G out on his shit last night. We had our moment after my nightmare subsided. I woke up with his morning wood pressed against my ass, and he’s been playful with me for the last hour.
It’s over; I’m ready to move on.
“It’s not fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest in a way that makes his defined biceps pop. “None of my anger or frustration last night was about you, and yet you took the brunt of it. I was wrong to react that way, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
A weird lump of emotion lodges itself in my throat, making it hard to breathe. It’s unfamiliar to me, the way he’s taking responsibility for his actions. My parents sure as hell never said they were sorry for lashing out. Maybe because they weren’t. Or maybe because they didn’t think I was worth the effort.
I bite down on my tongue to stave off the emotion swelling like a wave inside me.
Receiving a genuine apology shouldn’t send me reeling, but fuck if it does.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks,” I grit out, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other while trying my best to avoid his gaze.
I’m staring at my feet when he grabs me around the neck, pulls me close, and thumps me on the back so hard I wheeze.
He brings his lips to my ear, and when his warm exhale meets my sweat-soaked skin, I shudder. “You don’t have to thank me, Leev. I was wrong. I owed it to you, and you deserve better than my bad attitude coming at you out of nowhere.”
He licks his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing against my neck, then kisses me softly and cuffs the back of my neck with both hands.
“I won’t always get it right. But I promise to apologize when I fuck up. And I’ll never stop working to do my best for you and for her.”
Fuck. Why is this so hard? How emotionally damaged must I be if receiving a genuine apology hurts more than letting the moment pass?
A throat clears behind us.
We break apart and find Spence stationed near the door.
“Hate to interrupt your little gym date love fest.” He waves a hand flippantly our way.
Jealous bastard. As if I wasn’t on my knees for him against the back wall a few days ago.
“But I’m heading out to find Hunter and get on with my day. Cheers.”
Greedy shoots me a concerned look, then takes off after Spence. “What do you mean find Hunter?”
When we catch up, Kabir is stalking through the main living space, not bothering to acknowledge Gerald and Mrs. Lansbury in the kitchen or Locke and Joey sitting cross-legged on a couch in the great room. I wave but don’t stop as I follow my guys.
“Spence,” Greedy huffs.
Finally, he glances over his shoulder. “She’s outside somewhere.” Deftly, he unlocks a sliding glass door and yanks it open, inviting in the frigid morning air. “I just need to put eyes on her.”
Fair enough.
G and I step out onto the upper deck behind him, and a chill instantly settles in my bones.
Through chattering teeth, Greedy says, “I’m gonna need a long, hot shower after this.”
With a squeeze of his hip, I take a step closer. “I might need to join you.”
His lips tip in a smirk, lust dancing in his eyes.
It’s hard for me to accept a verbal apology. But I have no issue with letting my boyfriend show me how sorry he is in the shower.
“There,” Kabir announces, once again breaking us from our spell.
Kabir Spencer is a cockblock and a flirtation killer. I’d like to believe it’s unintentional, but with his attitude this morning, it’s hard not to suspect that he’s doing it on purpose.
I look past the yard to where he’s pointing, barely making out two people walking hand-in-hand along the rocky shore of the lake.
Inching closer, I join Spence at the rail of the deck. Greedy steps up on my other side.
Silently, the three of us watch as Hunter and Sione trek toward the house.
She doesn’t look like she’s wearing enough layers for this weather, but I bite my tongue and refrain from making any comments.
Spence and Greedy do not.
“Where the hell is her jacket?” Greedy gripes.
“The man is not stupid.” This from Spence. “They have climate in Italy. There’s no way he thinks her attire is reasonable for this weather.”
I roll my lips to hold in a laugh.
Greedy clutches the railing and squeezes. “We’re really letting her go to this Combine without us?”
For a moment, no one speaks.
It’s safe to assume we all would prefer Hunter stay close, for her safety and for our own self-assurances. But…
“She’ll be with Si,” I remind them. “And Kendrick and Joey. She’ll be okay.”
“Are we sure?” G presses.
Kabir sighs, the sound echoing the resignation I feel surrounding the situation.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” he admits. The confession is so candid, so intimate, it takes me by surprise.
I survey him, taking in the torment, the worry, and the self-loathing he harbors behind those stormy irises.
A few beats pass, then he snaps out of his revery and reverts back into his usual self.
Shoulders pulled back and chin high, he clears his throat. “Hunter will be as safe as possible, given the situation. I’ve hired three investigators to tail Magnolia around the clock. I’ve increased tracking efforts as well.”
Greedy guffaws, the sound echoing in the early air. “Did you put an actual tracker in her, too?”
It’s a sarcastic barb. But, of course, Spence answers it at face value.
“Not in her, no. But I have access to her phone, car, and all her correspondence. I’m also monitoring everyone who enters your father’s home and all the individuals and businesses she’s interacted with since returning to South Chapel. If she leaves the house, I’ll know about it. If she hires anyone to do anything on her behalf, I’ll be fully aware. She will not make a move against us that we do not see coming. Not ever again.”
The heavy silence returns. I mull over his confession as I watch Hunter and Sione. At this distance, I can see he has an arm around her, holding her close. She’s focused on the ground in front of her mostly but looks up and graces him with a wide smile from time to time.
All I want to do is protect her. Keep her safe. Make sure Magnolia can’t fucking touch her. Does Spence intend to do more than just follow Magnolia around until she dies? Are we going to keep playing defense or finally switch it up and take the offensive lead?
As if he can read my thoughts, Greedy says, “You have a plan, I assume?”
Heart in my throat, I study Spence, eager for his answer.
“I always have a plan.”
“As one of many people negatively impacted by your most recent plan, is there anything we should know?” With fire in his eyes, Greedy stares down the man who upended our world just a few days ago. He doesn’t blink, even as Spence holds his gaze and makes no indication whatsoever that he’s going to open up to us.
Tension sizzles between them. I’m half tempted to take a step back and remove myself from the line of fire, but if this escalates, it might be better if I’m ready to intercept.
“Spence.”
Kabir’s eyes shift to me, then back to G.
“Garrett.”
I smack my hand over my mouth to hide the laugh threatening to escape me.
“Look…” Spence turns and sets his focus to where Hunter and Sione are now standing in front of the house. “I’ve been playing it too safe. I’ve taken the path of least resistance, obtained the lowest hanging fruit. But now we are beyond trying to reason with or simply deter Magnolia St. Clair-Ferguson.”
He braces his hands on the wooden railing and drops his head in an uncharacteristically vulnerable display and sighs heavily.
“I will not fill you in on the plan I’m devising. To tell you would be to implicate you.”
He lifts his head and meets my gaze first before looking to Greedy. The storm clouds in his eyes send my blood pressure spiking.
“What I am prepared to do is not something I want either of you to have to live with.”
G pounds a fist against the top of the railing, rattling the support we’re leaning against. “God dammit. You don’t have to do this alone. We can help.”
“I’m not doubting your ability or willingness to contribute, Garrett. I’m attempting to preserve the version of you our girl loves and needs during this time.”
G simpers, but he doesn’t push back. These two may be at odds with one another for years to come. But there’s no denying they trust one another. It’s that trust that makes this family possible. I just wish Spence didn’t have to carry so much on his own.
Taking a different approach, I splay my hand on Spence’s lower back and move it up and down his spine in smooth strokes.
He stands taller but doesn’t brush off my touch.
Warmth gathers in my chest as I take him in and wrap my head around what he’s implying. “You shouldn’t have to do something that will be hard to live with either.”
He steps away quickly, breaking contact. “Your concern is endearing, Champ.” His tone is far too nonchalant. “But I have the help I need. Have a nice day at school, you two.”
With that, he turns and walks away.