Page 22 of On Your Knees

Rage flares inside me. “You will go when I say you can go, and that is not now.” I slam my eyes shut again, forcing myself to disengage. “Fuck,” I mutter, shoving myself up from the couch.

I worked so goddamn hard yesterday to fix myself. I was fine. Why the hell am I not fine now?

I turn away from Levi because I’m not in control. This hasn’t happened to me in a long fucking time, and I don’t like it. I don’t understand why it’s happening now.

I have to lock this shit down.

For fuck’s sake, be still. If you can’t be it, perform it. You know how.

“You want to go home?” I ask, sounding cold and steady.

“Y-yes. I… yes.”

“Fine.”

I walk over to the pile of Levi’s clothes and pick them up, but when I turn, intending to carry them to him, he’s right behind me. He’s so damn quiet.

His eyes are on the floor. He’s ashamed. Rage boils up inside me again, but this time it hits the cold outside layer of myself and retreats.

As Levi gets dressed, I go behind the bar and put on my shoes. Levi doesn’t jump to any conclusions from that, but when we walk out to the living room and I grab my keys and phone, he halts.

“Isn’t… but Patrick…”

“I’m taking you home,” I tell him when he can’t seem to form a full question.

“I can take the train.”

“No. Come on.”

Levi follows me out of the apartment and down the hallway to the elevator. He’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t argue with me.

When we get to the parking garage, I lead him to my green Porsche. He recoils slightly like he doesn’t want to get in it, but when I open the passenger door and let a little of the anger flash out in my eyes, he obeys.

For the entire drive across the city, Levi is stone still in the passenger seat. We don’t speak. The drive should calm me, but it doesn’t. I’m still cold and tight when we reach his building.

“Thanks,” he says softly when I pull up to the curb.

I don’t reply. He clearly thinks I’m just dropping him off, but I’m not. We get out. He freezes on the sidewalk as I walk around the car to him. His eyes are huge and worried but not really focused on me.

He has something to say, but before he’s able to find the words, I tell him, “Get moving.”

Levi does as he’s told, and now I’m the one following him, into his building and up to the fifth floor.

When he stops at 512, he says, “I can pay you back.” I’m briefly dumbfounded, which gives him time to add, “It might take me some time—”

“What the fuck do you think is happening here, Levi?”

He is so close to crying. “I-I don’t know.”

“Open the fucking door.”

He digs his key from his pocket. It’s the only key he has. His hands are shaky, so it takes him a second to get the door open. He looks over his shoulder at me. Shock has taken over his emotions because I’m crowding into him, planting my hand on the door to push it open further and shepherding him into the room.

The dim evening light hides some of the ugly reality, but it can’t hide the fact that this place is basically a closet. The twin mattress is on its side, leaning up against the far wall to make space. There’s some furniture, which he must move into the kitchen at night to lay the bed down.

It’s clean though. I can tell that even in the dimness.

Levi turns on a light under the cupboard. It’s small and weak, battery powered. It reveals the fact that his kitchen has no sink or oven. He’s got a minifridge and hotplate. The only sink is in the bathroom.