32. Levi
THIRTY-TWO
Levi
I jolt awake in the middle of the night. I don’t know why. There’s no dream that kicks me out of sleep, but suddenly I’m wide awake with a racing heart. There’s a glow in the room. Ethan’s laptop. The light is bathing his face. He looks up, then he gets up. He comes straight to me.
He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his arms. I’m trembling and breathing hard. I’m not sure why. I’m not even sure that I’m scared. I’m just flooded with adrenaline, like I should be running. Instead, I cling to Ethan, and he clings to me.
I calm down.
I breathe.
I settle and lay my head in his lap. He strokes my hair. His laptop has gone into sleep mode and the room is dark.
I ask, “What were you doing?”
“Getting things organized. Just in case.”
“In case what? And what things?”
“Money. Travel. In case we have to leave.”
Cold water runs through me. He means in case the police come after me. Because I killed someone.
Ethan keeps petting my hair. He reassures me, “It’s just in case.”
“You said in case we have to leave.”
His hand stills then his fingers start stroking again. “Yes, I did.”
“You would run away with me? Like, forever. Leave everything.”
“There is no everything, Levi. There’s only you.”
I close my eyes and breathe that in, and it’s such pure, sweet oxygen that it dizzies me. It sends me spinning right off the earth. My fingers curl on his leg, holding tight.
“Where would we go?” I ask.
“Puerto Rico to start. Then we’d get you a passport. From there, there are lots of possibilities.”
“You’d really do that for me?” I ask, greedy for more reassurance.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
I sigh and relax. I fall back asleep.
* * *
Over the next few days, Ethan is busy. Most things, he works on from the penthouse, but he leaves a few times. I always hate when he’s away. I worry about what might happen to him. I want him with me. I want him safe.
I’m very, very upset that he hasn’t been safe, not ever, not in any way, and every time he’s gone, I dwell on it. I imagine his childhood and what he went through. I think about all the people who hurt him.
I look at the news too. I expect splashy headlines about Pastor John Clifford’s death, but there’s only a little blip, like with most deaths in a city the size of New York. Apparent suicide. Nothing more.
I wonder at that, given the things that were on his desk
But then I look at the High Castle website and social media, and I see a single memorial post commemorating his long service and devotion to the church. It’s so sterile that there’s no misunderstanding the fact that High Castle is keeping Clifford’s death as quiet as possible.
But the quiet doesn’t last.
I don’t know it at first because I’ve stopped looking at the news.
Ethan is gone, still working on his just-in-case plans, and I’m sitting on the couch getting ahead of him in the Tanith Lee series that he started reading with me.
He sleeps so little that he’s mostly caught me, but I want to win.
I’ve been teasing him about it, and it’s fun.
The doorbell rings, yanking me out of Tanith Lee’s strange, dark world. My heart jumps. My first thought is police. Then I think Patrick. Then I think police again.
Ethan said that if the police come, I shouldn’t answer the door. But I have to know at least. I put my Kindle aside and walk silently across the apartment in my socks. I go to the door and look out through the peephole.
It’s not the police.
It’s not Patrick.
It’s Ruby.
My eyes narrow. I’ve thought a lot about her over the past few days, and I have a lot to say. So I open the door.
Ruby, dressed as neatly as always, looks instantly annoyed. She demands, “Where’s Ethan?”
“You’re evil.”
“Excuse me? Never mind. Where’s Ethan? He’s not answering his phone.”
“He’s not answering you. Stop calling him. Stop bothering him. Stop reminding him that you exist.”
Ruby blinks and looks like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Jensen just published his article. Ethan must do damage control with me.”
“He doesn’t have to do anything with you.”
Her lips purse. “You know nothing about what’s going on.”
I feel a strange, wicked smile pull at my mouth.
Ruby recoils slightly, stepping back. “What’s wrong with you?”
I start walking toward her. She backs away. I keep moving, realizing that there isn’t actually all that much I care about saying. I just want her to leave and not return.
I prowl toward her, backing her all the way to the elevator. She’s fumbling for the button, looking very alarmed, when the doors slide open, revealing Ethan.
His expression darkens at the sight of Ruby, then he looks at me, and his eyebrows jump. I only see it at the edge of my vision because I can’t take my eyes off Ruby.
As Ethan steps out of the elevator, Ruby scrambles past him to get in.
“Psychopath!” she mutters, jabbing at the buttons.
The doors slide shut.
“Levi?”
My eyes jump to Ethan. He doesn’t look upset. He just looks perplexed.
I tell him, “I don’t want her talking to you.”
He huffs slightly. “What happened? And I don’t want her talking to you either. Why’d you even answer the door?”
I answer his questions in reverse order. “To get rid of her. And it’s different. And it doesn’t matter.”
The corner of his mouth tugs. He takes my hand. As we start walking back to the open door of the penthouse, I feel the viciousness fade from me.
It’s strange. I didn’t know it was in me to be vicious. I never have been.
Except… that’s not true. My episodes are vicious. Which means that it has always been there. I’ve just never known what to do with it. And I’m glad it’s there actually, in case I ever need it again.
Ethan closes the door behind us. As we walk into the kitchen, he asks, “Why was she here?”
“She’s awful.”
“I know. Why was she here?”
I don’t want to tell him, but I can’t lie to him, and he does need to know. The content of the article could affect him. Us.
“Jensen published something apparently.”
“Ah.” Ethan pulls away from me and goes into the kitchen for a glass, which he fills at the sink. He guesses, “And she wants me to work with her on a response.”
I stand at the island, gripping the edge of the counter. “You’re not going to, are you?”
“No.”
I should be relieved. I am. But I’m still uneasy about her. I ask something that’s been bothering me for a few days. “Why were you at the charity dinner that night? You were there with her. Why?”
Ethan frowns at the glass in his hand. “I wasn’t there with her. I was there to spite her. To rub her face in my existence, I guess.”
“I don’t want you to do that again. I don’t want you to ever see her again.”
Ethan’s frown deepens, like he’s not ready to promise that.
“Ethan.”
He looks up. He comes back to me. I watch it happen in his eyes, the way he returns. He draws a deep, shuddering breath. He nods, acknowledging what I’ve said, accepting it.
But the peace doesn’t last. Other things crowd into his eyes. A heaviness seems to settle over him.
I ask, “You’re still going to read the article, aren’t you?”
“I have to. I have to know how it might impact us.”
“Then let’s read it.”
He frowns. “I don’t want you to read it.”
“Then be with me while you read it.”
Ethan sighs. “Yeah. Okay.”
He sets his water aside and pushes away from the counter. I follow him as he moves into the living room, where he sits on the couch with his phone. I lie beside him with my head in his lap. He takes a heavy breath and brings up the article.
I don’t look at him. I can tell he needs a little bit of privacy. It’s enough that he’s letting me be with him.
His free hand is on my shoulder. When it tightens, I reach up and rub my thumb up and down his fingers.
Eventually, he lowers his phone. He’s silent for a long time. Then he says, “He didn’t include me. He has an interview with someone else. Someone who was willing to speak. He kept it about Clifford. He said nothing of Paul.”
I keep rubbing his fingers with my thumb. “You’re glad he didn’t mention you.”
“Does that make me a coward?”
“It’s your choice what to say or when. No one should take that choice from you.”
Ethan takes a deep breath and lets it out.
For a long time, we’re both silent, then Ethan says, “There’s something I want to do. Will you do it with me?”
“Yes.” I roll onto my back to look up at him.
He smiles a little. “You don’t even know what it is.”
“It doesn’t matter what it is. The answer is yes, and it always will be.”