Chapter 38
M aybe karma did exist because the next morning he got a surprise call from Levy. He blinked at his screen in confusion because it had to be crazy early back in Jiro, and then accepted it because that meant there had to be a good reason for the call.
“Hey,” he said, tentative.
“Hey!” Levy sounded happy. Unduly excited, but happy. So it was probably not about Kallen’s car disappearing and the White Cats coming for him with legal pitchforks. “You good to talk?”
“Sure. Kinda early for you.”
“Um, yeah, about that... I’m here. Like, in Terali.”
Kallen barely managed to swallow the sip of water he’d just taken from his bedside table, and he fumbled to set it down and keep his balance. Absurdly, he glanced down at his pyjama-clad body. He was being ridiculous, Levy didn’t even have his address . “Sorry, what?”
“Surprise?” Levy said, a little muffled. “Like, you don’t have to— If you’re busy, I get it, I just didn’t know I was coming until yesterday and—”
“Wait,” Kallen cut in. “You’re making no sense. Why are you here?” It came out too sharp, and he was about to apologise when Levy responded.
“Job. Well, interview anyway.”
Kallen’s heart stuttered in his chest, but his mind couldn’t quite seem to process the words. A job interview? “But...”
Levy started explaining before he could manage more than that. “I quit. Like, I don’t know if I’ll get the job, but I just... I had to—”
“Levy?” Kallen cut in, breathless even though all he’d done was sit up in bed. He couldn’t take any more information without his brain exploding. “Where are you exactly?”
“Um, on a train from the airport. Going to... Kyli station.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there in...” He glanced around, trying to figure out what he needed to do first. Then realised he had never driven to Kyli. “I’ll text you when I know.”
“Okay.” Levy sounded more subdued now, but Kallen couldn’t explain, he could barely put down the phone and grab clothes.
LEVY’S SMILE WAS LESS pronounced than usual, like he wasn’t quite certain it would be allowed to remain on his mouth for long. The brightness in his eyes more than made up for it though, and Kallen walked right up to him and dragged him into an embrace. Burying his nose on the side of his neck and inhaling felt like the first real breath he’d taken in ages.
Levy hugged him just as tight and they stood there for too long, next to the cafe where they’d agreed to meet, surrounded by strangers and not aware of a single thing except each other.
He loosened his hold just enough to take a single step back and meet Levy’s eyes. “What on earth...?” he said, shaking his head, his cheeks hurt. He was smiling, too. It all felt a little unreal.
Kallen hadn’t expected to see him again, he realised. Maybe not ever, but most definitely not any time soon.
Levy’s smile quirked to the side. “I know,” he said, and Kallen heard the rest of it without him needing to finish. I know I’m crazy, but aren’t I cute?
Kallen snorted, shaking his head and demanded, “ Coffee .”
The moment they sat down, a waiter seemed to materialise, and even in his current state of shock, Kallen couldn’t miss the omega guy was smiling at them both way too much. Had he seen them hugging ? Not that it mattered if a complete stranger assumed... Well, most people didn’t believe alphas and omegas could be friends, not unless they had huge age gaps between them anyway and even then it was rare.
But that was people’s problem, not Kallen’s. He’d have come to meet Brad if he’d been the one to suddenly show up in his city.
Not that Brad was likely to do something that crazy.
“Did you even sleep?” he asked, which maybe wasn’t a priority but concerned him anyway.
Levy waved his hand back and forth, nose wrinkling. “Caught a few on the plane, but not really, and it’s like four in the morning for me, so...”
“What time is the interview?”
His friend turned around to rummage in his backpack. Kallen was pretty sure it was just an excuse. “Two o’clock.”
In four hours . So was he being conscientious or...?
Before he could ask, their waiter was back with their drinks, solicitously offering extra options when they both refused the sugar. Kallen kept his responses to a minimum, but Levy couldn’t seem to turn down the charm.
It was all he could do not to snap at the waiter that they were fine, so he bit into a sandwich to do something and suddenly realised he was starving .
Levy joined him in demolishing the excessive amount of food they’d ordered moments later and that delayed them a bit further. It was only when he shoved a slice of orange with a bit of cheese sandwich into his mouth and the disgusting flavour combination made him wince that he realised he wasn’t tasting the food.
“Okay,” he said, putting down his empty cup after rinsing his mouth. “Explain. You quit?”
His friend paused with his own cup halfway to his lips, then sighed and set it down on its saucer. “Yeah. I... I kept thinking that you deserved better. Hell, that I deserved better. And once you were gone it was like, I don’t know. I realised it was bullshit, telling myself I was just trapped in a fucked-up system.” He gestured at Kallen. “If anyone was trapped, it was you. And you walked away. So how could I go around saying I couldn’t leave?”
Kallen stared at him, heart battering in his throat, stomach beginning to cramp.
Levy shrugged a shoulder. “So I did my budget to see how long I could manage without a job, and then I quit.” He licked his lips, meeting Kallen’s eyes shyly. “Two days ago.”
“Two days?” he echoed.
“Yeah, just... no point in postponing it. Well, actually, I was worried if I didn’t do it right then, with all the numbers in front of me...” He cut his gaze away. “I’m sorry, it sounds like I’m not even sure, and I am . It’s just—”
“Levy,” Kallen said, as gentle as he could. “You don’t have to tell me. I get it.”
That earned him a smile, small and sad but there. “Yeah, of course. You showed me the way, after all.”
“Don’t make me sound like a prophet or something.”
“Why not?” Levy argued, clearly just to be a little shit. “You could be my prophet.”
“No, I can’t. I haven’t even quit, officially,” he admitted, fitting his thumb inside the coffee spoon for something to do. It’d been bad enough before, but now Levy had actually sped past him just like that? He’d done a budget, which hadn’t even crossed Kallen’s mind.
“Your car is gone, though,” Levy said.
Kallen straightened. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Levy said, beginning to frown. “You didn’t know?”
“No, I did, I got a company to do it, but...” He swallowed, looking down at the spoon. “But I’m kinda worried they’ll notice, because I haven’t told them. My lawyer said not to, so I can keep getting paid till the end of the year,” he added, and winced. It sounded like an excuse.
“Good,” Levy told him, with that bite to it that only ever seemed to come up when someone hurt Kallen. “Least they can do.”
That was the reasoning, of course. “You are no longer a White Cat,” he suddenly realised, and regretted it at once when Levy grimaced. “No! Sorry! I— I have something to tell you.”
Levy’s face had gone smooth and serious. “I’m listening.”
And fuck, of course he was, but now Kallen wasn’t sure where to begin. “My lawyer... I went to the police. I told them.”
The alpha’s lips were pressed tightly together, but he didn’t move.
Kallen looked down again, his anger was on Kallen’s behalf, but it was still a lot to take. “I’m taking him to court.”
“Fuck, you are my prophet,” Levy said with a sigh. His hazel eyes were damp and he was looking at Kallen like... “What do you need from me?”
“What?” The question surprised him enough to make him lose track of what he’d been about to say. “No, I... I don’t need anything.”
Of course Levy had offered, when had he ever not?
“I can be a character witness, or—” Levy cut himself, snorting. “Sorry, you said you didn’t need anything from me. I just mean—”
“ Levy .”
He stopped, shrugging a little.
“Thank you for offering,” Kallen told him. “We have got evidence. Video. I’m supposed to tell the court what he said. Did.”
Levy grabbed his hand, curling it over the spoon he’d been fiddling with. His eyes were dark and knowing. “You will ,” he told Kallen.
“Will you drag me there if I chicken out?” he joked. He wanted to hold Levy’s hand back, but he was worried about loosening his friend’s hold.
“Won’t need to,” Levy told him, completely serious.
Kallen snorted. “I’m trying my best not to freak out.”
Levy’s thumb traced his knuckles. “You can, if you need to. I volunteer to sit on you until you calm back down.”
And he was absolutely serious, but Kallen’s cheeks flushed with the image.
He didn’t say anything, but his friend’s eyes widened and he chuckled. “Wow, dirty mind much?”
Kallen shot him a mock glare, but he couldn’t quite hold back his own smile.
“I just... I wish I could just quit, you know? So, I don’t have to keep thinking about what they might offer me to go back. About how much I can bend without—" He cut himself off. “You wouldn’t be there.”
“Um, no.”
“I mean, it’s stupid, but I just thought about it and... It would really suck without you. Even if they could offer me anything that wasn’t...”
They wouldn’t. He knew they wouldn’t offer anything that wasn’t abusive, to even imagine they might went well beyond a fantasy straight into the terrain of delusion.
“Yeah,” Levy said gently. “That’s what I meant; without you there, pretty much everything sucked. Like, the hockey was still okay, but...” He shrugged. “We didn’t feel like a team. Not because of all the soul of the team bullshit, but because if we’d done something like that to you and then just forgotten you, then what was the point of trying to win a cup? Who for? The fans?”
“ They ,” Kallen corrected, and finally pulled at his hand, dropping the spoon so he could put his hand over Levy’s instead. “You never forgot about me.”
Levy glanced down at the movement, and then, flickering a quick glance up at Kallen, turned his wrist until they were holding each other’s hands.
It was primary school stuff, but it didn’t feel that way. His heart was going too fast and he was flushing again, something simmering between them.
Levy offered a half smile, dimpling. “Well, you are pretty unforgettable.”
He shrugged, eyes falling onto their entangled hands. They’d done pretty much everything with their bodies they could think of, even if Kallen didn’t remember some of it, and yet, here they were, on the edge of something new.
It was fizzling between them, not quite ready to emerge.
He didn’t want to lose it.
“What’s this interview? Like, do you have an in with the Crocodiles?”
They’d been eliminated early enough that they could well be interviewing, they’d certainly be lucky to have Levy.
“It’s not with a team,” Levy said, eyes flickering to Kallen’s and away. “Or it is, but not a pro team. It’s to work with... Well, five to eight-year-olds. There’s this woman who runs a training camp, she is keen to have everyone play, no matter their phenotype.” Kallen squeezed his hand, too breathless to speak, and Levy met his gaze. “I thought it sounded good. Better. Right.”
Kallen nodded, and said, a little wonderingly, “It does.”
He half wanted to ask if Levy was sure about this.
“Yeah,” his friend said. “But I mean, all I’ve got is my volunteering experience, so... When she asked me to come over, I thought I should hurry.”
“And this camp it’s here? In Terali?”
Levy gave a slow nod, not looking away.
Kallen had to, though. It was too much. Was Levy trying to...? What was he trying to do? Looking for a job in Kallen’s hometown?
The grip on his hand loosened, and his own hand tightened instinctively. He didn’t know what the hell was happening, but he did know he didn’t want Levy’s skin any further away than it was.
Closer would have been great too, if at all possible.
“Ouch,” Levy said and Kallen let go at once.
“Grown some claws, have you?” Levy teased, laughing a little.
Kallen grimaced. “Sorry.”
But the alpha shook his head, then licked his lips and offered his hand again, palm up, open and easy and so dangerous it made Kallen’s heart speed up. How did he do that? Be so bloody open?
He swallowed thickly, eyes tracing the lines on it. He wanted to read what it said about Levy’s love and life, but he had no idea how, if it was even real.
There was no roadmap, no assurances. But Levy didn’t know either and he’d offered. And Kallen couldn’t do less . That kind of bravery had to be met with the same, or...
He reached out a little too fast, curling his fingers over the side of Levy’s warm skin once again. But this time, it wasn’t reassurance, but an answer.
For an instant, he couldn’t breathe, as if he’d actually jumped off a cliff, and then Levy’s fingers were curling around his own, tight and certain.
“Kallen,” Levy’s voice was soft, gentle. He always was so careful with him, and Kallen had wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t break. But he wasn’t sure that was true, and anyway, he wanted that gentleness. For years, he’d bought that it made him weak, but that was just another lie. And besides, he didn’t just want to receive it, he wanted to give Levy the same tenderness and respect he was given.
And whatever bullshit the world kept throwing at them, Kallen knew how this felt .
“I can’t believe you quit,” he admitted, risking meeting the alpha’s eyes.
“Had to,” his friend explained. “It wasn’t... I don’t think I can do it anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. Hockey isn’t worth hurting anyone or feeling like—” He turned his face away, jaw visibly clenched.
Kallen tugged at their joined hands. “You made a mistake. We made a mistake. But if you quit, then...” he trailed off because it wasn’t okay. That wasn’t how it worked. “Then you won’t make the same mistake again. That’s all we can do, isn’t it?”
Levy’s next look was wary, as if this was where his fear lay. His own heart he’d risk easily, but he couldn’t seem to let go of his guilt. And Kallen had already told him, but he said it again, “I forgave you, okay? And that was even before you...” He bit his lip, and had to blink away the wetness in his eyes.
The alpha’s eyes were stuck to their hands. “It wasn’t... It wasn’t just you.” His voice was thin, a thread about to snap.
Kallen had known, obviously he’d known, because Levy had joined the team before he had and at that point they’d had a different omega. “Okay,” he said, acknowledging but not judging. Here was his predecessor again, like a ghost demanding attention.
Maybe Kallen should give it to him.
“Okay?”
“You mean the team omega before me, right? Coleridge? Who was also stupid enough to sign a contract saying he’d spend his heats with a whole team?” He shook his head, huffing. “Sorry, I don’t know what his deal was, and if he got to retirement, it was probably a shitty one. But he’d have agreed to it ahead of time.”
“I agreed too,” Levy argued, low but vicious. “I can’t just... You can’t just say it’s okay because team omegas sign a contract!”
“I’m not!” Kallen said, too loud. He glanced around, but no one was looking at him. Would people think this was lovers’ spat if...? He huffed and had to inhale deeply before he could explain, “It’s not okay, it wasn’t okay for you and it wasn’t okay for me, and we can probably assume it wasn’t okay for him. But you ” He squeezed Levy’s hand for emphasis “are making a better choice now . That’s all I’m saying.”
“Only because of you,” Levy said, all the fight seeming to leave him at once.
Kallen snorted, earning himself a shocked look. “Please, do you see Johnson here? Or Benny?” He made a show of glancing around. “ You made a choice, and sure, maybe I had something to do with it. Just like you— Just like you did for me. But you can’t make someone change no matter how much you show them there is a better way, they have to choose it. And fuck, Levy, you don’t get to tell me that giving up playing professionally isn’t the hardest thing you have fucking done. That you aren’t going to wonder what would have been forever.”
“I won’t,” Levy said, but expression clearing, fierce and burning everything in its wake. “You know what? I won’t because I know what it would have been like. I would have treated someone like a— an object, and pretended it was okay because they’d signed a piece of paper. And I would have felt guilty as fuck until I got an ulcer or something. And then I would have maybe held the Cup once or twice in twenty years and made a fuckload of money I didn’t need, gone on expensive holidays in the off-season to try and forget what I would have done. Bought my sister a house or something, as if I could buy her forgiveness for what I was doing to another omega. Or hurt myself so bad I’d had had no choice but to retire, but then it wouldn’t have been my choice, and it wouldn’t have counted. I wouldn’t have done anything to make up for any of it, and I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.”
Kallen could only stare at him, lips parted but without any words he could find. He himself hadn’t been able to stomach imagining even a year into the future, but here was Levy having travelled the whole distance in his mind. He’d let the whole nightmare of it unfold fully, each terrible choice stacked atop the deep betrayal of his self that would only bury that self deeper into the ground. A whole life built atop a lie: that a contract or legality could make something right, that someone’s consent could save you from your own dishonourable behaviour.
It wasn’t worth much when his own mind followed along the path Levy had traced. He might have ignored what the paralysis meant, thanked his lucky stars and gone back to it all, used lure to the best of his ability, kept the wolves at bay with the flame of his own power, twisting his gift into something unrecognizable. Excused anything he did with what they did to him in turn. Surviving, but always afraid.
And alone.
On the ice, he’d have had to pretend they were his team and had his back, but neither they nor he could have truly believed it. Off the ice, he’d have to get Levy or Benny or someone to never leave him alone with their captain and kept his gaze down never to meet McKinley’s.
And if... when something had happened again, he’d have had to choose between asking his allies to support him or save them for the next. He’d have probably saved them for the next thing for a long time, perhaps for the very last hurdle. Because he’d already made it clear to himself that he wasn’t worthy of compassion or respect, so hockey would have been all he had left and he’d have burned himself out trying to keep it at any cost.
Except that even in that world, there would have been a price he wouldn’t pay for the ice. Because no matter how much he’d tried to pretend otherwise, he’d never intended to fulfil the breeding clause in his contract.
“You are right,” he said, voice rasping out of his throat. “I don’t... I don’t think I’ll regret it, either. But... I wish it had been true, you know? That the ice was really just the ice and playing was really just playing.”
Levy’s face fell, and before he knew it, Kallen found himself yanked to his feet, dragged to the side so Levy could hold him in his arms, chest solid under Kallen’s cheek. He hugged back as hard as he got. There was nothing they could do about the beautiful fantasy the world had destroyed, but at least they were in this together.