28. Levi
TWENTY-EIGHT
Levi
I’m not fully aware that I’m making a plan until Ethan is getting ready to leave in the late afternoon to meet Jensen. Up until that point, I only know that things are moving around in my head.
I’m not sure what makes things click into place. Maybe it’s because Ethan calls Patrick over to the house, asking him to stay with me, just in case.
Just in case.
I think that’s when I’m sure. The High Castle Church, especially Ruby, especially John Clifford, will never allow this story to come to light.
Patrick isn’t happy. His arms are tightly crossed and he wants to know why Ethan is meeting Jensen again. They’re in the kitchen, standing about six feet apart. I’m in the doorway.
Ethan says, “He has footage from that night at the club. When I lost it with that guy.”
“So? Who cares, Ethan? It was ten years ago. And who gives a shit if you’re gay? Fuck your stupid fucking church!”
“It’s not about that! It’s about why and where he got that from and what else he might have. I need to know what he wants.”
“Then I’ll come with you, and we’ll talk to him together.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I need you here with Levi, just in case.”
There it is again.
Just in case.
Patrick catches it too. “Just in case what? What exactly are you expecting to happen?”
“I don’t fucking know, Patrick, and I don’t want to think about it. I already have enough shit to think about, and I don’t want to have to think about that too, so I just need you to fucking stay here so I don’t have to.”
Patrick breathes out harshly. He closes his eyes. He shakes his head. Then he says, “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
Ethan is so relieved that he sinks back against the counter. “Thank you. Fuck, Patrick, thank you.”
Patrick is still upset. “Just fucking go before I change my mind.”
“Levi is everything to me.”
My throat tightens at Ethan’s words.
Patrick sighs. “I know. Just… be safe. You’re everything to him too.”
My heart swells because it means so much to me to have that seen and understood. Hopefully, it will help Patrick understand when I betray him.
I walk over to Ethan. I wrap my arms around him. For a second, I worry that they’ll be alerted by my calmness, but they aren’t. Maybe they think I’m in shock. Maybe I am.
Ethan hugs me back. There’s so much tension in his body. He’s being forced to deal with things that he shouldn’t have to deal with. Because he’s been preyed on. Because no one has ever protected him.
Neither of us says anything. At this point, there’s nothing to say. Ethan pets my hair. I sigh against him.
Then we draw apart, and he leaves.
I walk out of the kitchen, leaving Patrick there. I grab my phone from the entryway and go upstairs, shutting myself into the bedroom then into the bathroom.
I bring up the number that I memorized earlier while looking at Ethan’s phone, the number that I saved in my phone as soon as Ethan started texting him back this morning.
I call that number.
It goes to voicemail, so I call again. I have to call a third time before Jensen finally answers, “Who is this?”
“I can get you information,” I reply. “On John Clifford.”
There’s a long silence, then Jensen demands again, “Who is this?”
“I just need his address.”
“You can get information, but you don’t know where he lives? Tell me who you are.”
“I just need his address,” I repeat.
In the silence, I can practically feel Jensen calculating. He has nothing to lose by yielding the information and possibly something to gain, so he gives it to me. I end the call, cutting off his question about what I’m going to give him.
The answer is nothing. I will give him nothing.
I change into jeans and the new shoes that Patrick got for me. I put on a shirt and a jacket. Then I leave the room and go down to the pantry. I open the drawer. I stare at the empty space where the gun should be.
Ethan took it.
It makes things harder, but my resolve only deepens. The fact that Ethan took the gun means that I’ve understood things right. I’ve understood what just in case actually means.
I shut the drawer and walk into the kitchen. Patrick is sitting at the kitchen table frowning at his phone. He looks up when I enter.
Patrick demands, “Who is this fucking guy?”
“The journalist?”
“Yeah, the fucking journalist.”
“I only got his last name. Jensen.”
Patrick sighs because that doesn’t help much and maybe he already knew that anyway. Then he does a double take. “Why are you dressed like you’re going somewhere?”
“I need you to take me to the penthouse. I need some things.”
“What do you need? I might have it at my place.”
“I need my Kindle. Please. I can’t just sit here doing nothing. I need it. We’ll be back before Ethan.”
Patrick frowns. “It’s that important?”
“Please, Patrick. I can’t just sit here.”
He gets up. “Yeah, fine. I don’t really want to sit here either.” He pauses. “Are you okay? You sound a little off.”
“I’m worried.”
Patrick huffs. “That’s fair. Let’s go.”
On the way to the city, for the first time, I ride in the front seat. It’s so different to see Patrick from here instead of from the back. I can’t believe I used to think his silence was cold. He’s reserved, a little pensive, but he cares a lot.
Ethan told me that Patrick helped him, and now I understand better what that help looked like.
The picture that Jensen sent was at some kind of sex club.
Ethan said he agreed to “a scene,” but whatever he wanted, he wasn’t able to handle.
Patrick was there and stepped in. He helped.
He took care of Ethan. And he never touched Ethan, not sexually.
I get it now, and I think I love Patrick too, for doing that for Ethan. I hope he forgives me.
When we get to the penthouse, Patrick insists on coming up with me. It’s a wrinkle, but I’m not surprised. I ask him to go look in the guest bedroom for my Kindle, and he does it. As soon as he’s gone, I leave the penthouse silently.
I make it to the elevator. I make it inside and close the doors. I push the button for the ground floor.