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It’s right. I should. I throw the duffel over my shoulder and start to make for the exit.
But at the last second, I scoop up the box of sex toys and go home.
* * *
When I get back to the house, I find Lev skulking by the front door. I only notice him because his shadow is cast long and skinny by the moonlight.
“Lev.”
“What’s that?” he asks as his face brightens with interest. “Is that a present? Is it for me?”
There are moments when I see a flash of the person that Lev used to be. The surly teenager, prone to long bouts of silence and quick flashes of wit. The boy who would’ve spent every waking second outdoors if he could have gotten away with it. The brother who used to carry Polly around on his shoulders when I got tired. It’s like that person existed only for a fleeting second before he was gone forever. Along with all the possibilities of who he might have been.
“No, Lev. This is business.”
He pouts but his eyes never leave the duffel bag. “Can I see what’s inside?”
“No.”
He frowns deeply. “Can I guess what’s—”
“This doesn’t concern you,brat.”
His eyebrows straighten out and his mouth drops. In fact, his entire face falls. I’m not usually so brusque with him.
Goddammit.This is the last thing I need right now. “Lev—”
But he’s already scampered off into the gaming room where he likes to hide out on those rare occasions when he can be coaxed out of the basement. Groaning inwardly at my own impatience, I drop the duffel bag and box off in my office and then go after him.
He’s ignored the leather sectional, the recliners, and the beanbags. Instead, he’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet with his controller in hand and his headphones shucked off to the side.
“Lev.” He flinches but he doesn’t look at me. “Can you put that away for a second, please?”
He does it reluctantly. His fingers rake through his hair again and again, a sure sign that I’ve agitated him.
“I’m sorry about being short with you. It’s been a long day and things have been stressful at work.”
He’s not one for maintaining eye contact in general, but when he’s upset about something, I’m hard-pressed to get him to so much as look anywhere in my general direction.
“I don’t want you to think I’m mad at you, okay? I’m not. I’m just tired.”
That gets a tiny reaction. His hand falls to his lap.
I pick up one of the free controllers. “Can I play with you?”
After a long, drawn-out pause, he nods. It’s just the smallest of inclines but from Lev, it means a lot.
We play for half an hour with not a word spoken between us. Lev’s eyes are glued to the screen as his fingers fly over the buttons with amazing speed. He beats me effortlessly, but that’s fine. He has his domain. I have mine.
“I want my basement,” he blurts when the game ends. “I don’t like the upstairs room.”
I glance at him, though he stays looking at the screen. “You’ll get it back soon. I just need a little more time.”
He doesn’t say anything but his hand runs through his hair again. It’s a stark reminder that the little siren in the basement can’t stay there forever.
For more reasons than one.
16
