Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
For his age, the man was energetic, because before I’d even put Levi down, he was rushing from the room. I settled Levi under the blanket. His eyes were still partially open, but he didn’t seem to be looking at me. It was an unwelcome reminder for me, but I pushed the thought aside as I put my hand against Levi’s bruised cheek.
“Levi, can you hear me?”
The panic crawling through my body was unexpected, especially considering how confused the last thirty minutes had left me.
Ever since I’d followed Levi into the soup kitchen, I’d been studying his movements and reactions and trying to match the man I was watching to the ruthless criminal he was supposed to be. It had started outside when he’d offered to make me a sandwich and let me wait out the weather inside, despite his obvious fear of me. He’d also made every effort to reassure me that there was no judgment for my perceived homelessness or need for a helping hand. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to treat me with respect.
Criminals didn’t do that, nor did guys forced into volunteer work as part of their punishment for their crimes. They didn’t care about the people they were helping, at least not enough to offer a kind word and gentle smile.
I was sure I’d been overthinking the whole thing as I’d watched Levi move around the kitchen. Despite the mishap with the coffee machine, he’d seemed comfortable with the routine of preparing what would likely be a large meal. I’d still been off-balance by his demeanor, so I’d done something I knew would help me focus on why I was really there.
I’d asked him to cut my sandwich.
Not because I’d actually wanted it cut, but because I’d needed to see that knife in his hand. I’d needed to put him in Seth’s family’s home, standing over a terrified fourteen-year-old kid and his helpless father. I knew that Levi hadn’t been the one to cut or stab Seth because if he had, there was no way Ronan would have let him live, but I’d hoped just putting that knife in his hands for a few seconds would remind me that his inaction had resulted in two deaths and the brutal torture of an innocent teenage boy.
Only, Levi hadn’t just snatched up one of the butcher knives and sliced through the sandwich. Instead, he’d stared at the handful of knives for a good minute before he’d finally reached for one with a shaking hand. He’d gotten lost as soon as his fingers had closed around the black handle of one of the knives.
He’d stared at the huge blade as if he’d never seen a knife before and his whole body had locked up like a steel trap. Another minute had passed before he’d finally put the knife down as carefully as if he’d been handling a lit stick of dynamite and then his hand had closed around the edge of the plate as if he’d needed something to hang onto. When he hadn’t moved and he hadn’t responded to me calling his name, I’d gone to his side to snap him out of his daze.
A daze much like the one he was currently in.
“Sit him up,” the priest murmured as he returned to the room, a glass of orange juice in hand.
I put my arm around Levi’s back and gently pulled him upright. To my surprise, he didn’t fall forward against my chest. It was like he was still with us in some ways, enough to control his body, but his mind had checked out.
“Levi, take a drink for me, please,” the priest said as he placed the glass against Levi’s lips. Levi obediently took a drink and then another when the priest repeated the request.
“Okay, lay him back down.”
The priest took off again, but was back within a minute with another blanket. I helped him tuck it around Levi until his entire body was covered from toe to chin.
“Who are you?” the priest finally asked when Levi’s body seemed to relax after a few minutes and his eyes drifted shut. I watched as the man’s fingers tentatively reached towards Levi’s face as if to touch his injuries. His eyes were heavy with sadness.
“My name is Phoenix Jones,” I offered. The man’s shrewd eyes narrowed and I knew my name wasn’t going to be enough for him, so I scrambled to come up with a legitimate-sounding reason to explain my presence. “I ran into Levi outside and he offered to let me come inside to get out of the weather. I didn’t do that to him,” I added as I motioned to Levi’s battered face.
Before he could question me further, which I could tell he was about to do, I said, “Levi and I were just talking and then he collapsed. You knew what to do…has this happened before?”