Chapter Five
Levi
Icheck the clock on the dashboard. I’m about twenty minutes late to dinner, and even as one of the biggest, toughest, and sometimes plain scariest men I know, I’m considering hiding in this truck instead of seeing the look of disappointment on Callie’s face.
Unfortunately, before I can come up with a good excuse or reverse the truck back out of the drive, Tom steps out of the house to let me know they’re aware I’m here.
“You’re in trouble now,” he jokes under his breath as we step into the house.
“Shush, you. He’s not in trouble,” Callie chimes as she uncovers the dishes on the table.
Tom and I look at each other in disbelief, waiting for the catch.
“He’s just on dish duty.” She smiles sweetly.
“And there it is,” we both say in unison.
Tom takes a deep breath as he looks me over, his shoulders rising and falling under the weight of his worry.
I don’t want it. I don’t want him worrying about me.
Even knowing I’d carry the same weight if the roles were reversed doesn’t make it any easier to realize that the people I care about are now concerned about me.
Me, the guy who’s never asked or needed anyone’s help, the one who’s always been the equivalent of the unshakeable and unbreakable Hulk.
I squeeze his shoulder, hoping to lighten the load, as we take our seats before digging into the first home-cooked meal I’ve had in months.
By the time we finish eating dinner, my interaction with Tris has been buried under small talk and possible plans for finding me a more permanent place to live.
Callie is still living at her cabin with her brother and his girlfriend, but I have a feeling that once I’m no longer here, that will change.
Tom mentions he might have an idea, but I leave it all up to Callie, who loves to stay busy, and Tom, who always wants to take care of everyone around him.
One less thing I have to figure out, and if it makes them feel better, then whoopee.
As she and Sunny pack up and head out for the night, I wash the dishes, my mind drifting.
Before I know it, the steam from the hot water looks more like smoke.
My mind is transported back to Shasta Ridge, surrounded by trees as they fall around us.
My heart pounds, and a cold sweat forms on the back of my neck.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been death gripping the counter when Tom’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder, pulling me back.
“Let it go,” he says softly, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to the counter or the memory, but I let go of what I can for now.
Stepping back slowly, I look at him, but I’m still there, knees in the soot-covered dirt, looking into Krystal’s big brown eyes as ash falls all around us.
I stagger back as the smoke threatens to choke me, the smell of burning trees filling my lungs.
My chest heaves, but panic strangles me from the inside, making it impossible to catch my breath.
I can’t see Tom. I don’t hear him until a cold dish towel slaps the back of my neck. It’s a cool contrast to the heat I’m feeling, but it’s solid enough that I hold on.
“Breathe, Levi. You gotta’ breathe, man.” His voice is calm as he wraps both hands firmly around my triceps, grounding me.
Slowly, I inhale. My lungs fill, my chest slowly rising and falling until I’m back in New York, back in the Adirondacks, and back in my best friend’s kitchen. Tom doesn’t say anything. He waits for me, his expression filled both with concern and understanding.
When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “C’mon, let’s have a drink.”
He pours two double shots of whiskey into our glasses, and we settle onto the couch that sits across from his fireplace.
I helped him find every river stone that’s now stacked above and around it, rising high into the sloped ceilings where industrial-style black steel beams crisscross against dark-stained wooden accents.
He spent weeks restoring the reclaimed barn wood for the mantle.
He was exhausted with all the work this place took, but was so proud when it all came together. We both were.
I grasp onto the memory as I try to relax.
The amber liquid burns on the way down, a welcome sting grounding me as the lake glimmers in the distance beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Somewhere, someone is lighting off fireworks.
The lake reflects the lights like twinkling lights that I follow with my eyes until they sizzle out.
Finally, I breathe in deeply, inhaling the warm, earthy smell of the wood and the faint scent of pine and spruce from the forest outside.
“So.” Tom slowly circles the liquid in his glass, watching it move instead of saying what I know is actually on his mind. “How’d things go today with Chief?”
I was quiet most of dinner, choosing instead to let them fill me in on how they’ve been, but I’ve already told him it went well, so I know he’s beating around the bush here. Easing into what he really wants to say. But I’ll play along.
“Oh, just dandy.” I draw out the words, letting the obviousness sink in as I take another sip from my glass, and Ellie curls up at my feet. “Chief seems like someone I can get along with.”
“That’s a pretty short list,” he mumbles into his glass.
“And getting shorter,” I quip.
It’s not that I don’t get along with people.
I just don’t actively seek them out. I’m not a people person.
I’ll save a cat from a tree, put out a burning building, and I’ll even save people’s lives, but at the end of the day.
.. I don’t really like people all that much.
Although Krystal always argued that that wasn’t true.
She’d say it’s the opposite, that when I finally let people in, that’s it.
There’s no going back. She said I care so deeply that if I did that for everyone, it would be too overwhelming, so keeping people at a distance is a coping mechanism, a way to protect myself. Lately, I’d have to disagree.
“Met Billy, too,” I add.
Tom chuckles. “Ah, yeah. Billy’s one of us, too.”
One of us.
I haven’t been back in months, but it doesn’t matter.
I can’t remember ever officially meeting Billy before today, yet I’m already grouped in as “us.” Just like he already knew who I was when I told him my name.
That’s what being friends with Tom and Callie all these years will do.
Whether I want to be or not, I’m part of their circle, their family of friends.
I knock back the rest of my drink, and Tom hands me the bottle, already anticipating that I’m not done with it yet.
After I’ve poured myself another double, I hike my brow toward his glass. He finishes off what’s left in it, then has me pour him some more. I notice how he sips this one slower, and after a few minutes of making small talk about how his sister and her family are doing, I can’t help myself.
“You gonna’ sit there all night and go shot for shot with me, golden boy? Or are you gonna’ grow a pair and say what you really want to?” A small smirk sits on my face.
He knows I don’t believe in beating around the bush. I’ll yank every one of them straight from the roots before I walk around worried about how I speak the truth. He’s never worried about telling me how it is, and I certainly don’t want that to change now.
“Fine, asshole,” he mumbles, setting his glass down on the table beside him.
“Are you sure you’re ready to get back to work?
Because from what I just saw, you’re dealing with PTSD, and the last thing you need is to have a freakin’ panic attack in the middle of a damn fire call.
I get called on those too sometimes, you know. I’ve seen how bad they can be.”
“You haven’t seen shit,” I bite out before I can help myself, heat flaming up the back of my neck, every muscle tensing.
“No,” he retorts, quick and loud, before all the fight leaves him and a look full of that concern I saw earlier returns.
“But you have.” He picks his glass back up, taking a hefty gulp this time before lightly placing it back down.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re at least willing to admit that being there wasn’t good for you anymore, but don’t be so much of a stubborn bastard that you go and get yourself hurt or hurt someone else in the process. ”
“You gonna’ bench me, coach?” I respond sarcastically.
He shakes his head and tips it back. “You know, just because you make it difficult to love you, doesn’t mean we don’t, man.”
Thomas freakin’ Hadley.
And that’s why he’s my brother. Because where other people would write me off right now for being a sarcastic ass, he sees the truth. That I’m deflecting, avoiding the reality that he’s right, and underneath all this anger and witty sarcasm is a screwed-up man in pain.
“Not everyone can make it as easy as you do,” I tease back, letting him know without saying it that I love him too.
“We don’t want to lose you, too,” he says, his words soft and careful. “Just promise me, you’ll be careful.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
His eyes narrow, unamused.
“Fine. I’ll be on my very best behavior.”
“Oh great,” he barks out with a laugh. “Your best behavior? Fantastic. This will go well.”
We both laugh, and something shifts between us, like one of my many layers of resistance has been peeled back. After a few more sips in silence, I watch the amber liquid reflect the dim light from my glass before knocking it back.
“I’ll be careful,” I promise him, because he’s not asking much. He wants me to be safe and make good choices. To be here long enough for Sunny to learn my name and know who the coolest uncle is. If I do my job right, she might even learn a thing or two about how to drive him crazy.
“That’s all I ask.” He walks to the kitchen, and his glass clinks in the sink before he makes his way back to me. “I’m going to bed. You said you start work tomorrow?”