Kindred Spirit - Noah Harris Page 0,41
you have a point.”
“You don’t sound very happy about that.”
Levi gripped the metal and, before he could doubt himself, pulled. “I’m not.”
It came out smoothly, but Jacob’s breath hissed sharply. Levi watched the color drain from his handsome face as his entire body went rigid. Levi let him recover with some dignity as he cracked open the water bottle and poured it over the wound. Almost immediately, the wound began bleeding heavily, and he knew he wouldn’t have much time.
“Mother. Fucker,” Jacob finally hissed.
“Figured counting to three would make it worse,” Levi told him as he gathered up the needle and thread.
Jacob let his head thump to the ground. “You really don’t like when someone else has a point, do you?”
No, he really doesn’t.
“Shut up, Lou,” Levi grumbled, leaning forward.
“I’m really hoping that was Lou agreeing with me.”
“Might’ve been. What does it matter?”
“I have a strong feeling it takes at least two people to out stubborn you, is all.”
Lou laughed, and Levi scowled. With a huff of breath, he jabbed the needle through the skin of Jacob’s leg at the base of the wound. He had no idea whether or not he was going to be able to manage the job, but he found he was less worried about it now that Jacob and Lou appeared to be ganging up on him.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, accusing me of being stubborn,” Levi told him as he worked carefully.
“What’d I do?” Jacob asked with a wince.
He wound the thread through the wound, picking up his pace as he fell into a rhythm. “You were the one who had to be a badass and keep me ahead of you while you faced all the bullets and explosions.”
“That’s not stubborn, that’s practical. Who should deal with it, the guy who’s used to shit falling down around them, or the guy who just wants to live as a handyman in a small town?”
“It would be nice, having a normal life,” Levi admitted quietly.
“Yeah. One more reason to keep my mouth shut about the truth. Let you have your peace and quiet for a little while longer and hope it sticks.”
“You telling me that’s why you didn’t tell me?”
Jacob sighed. “No, it’s not. I didn’t tell you because it was my mission to keep you safe and do it as quietly as possible. And I kept telling myself I shouldn’t have gone as far as I did with you. Being acquaintances was one thing, being friends was going too far, but letting it go as far as it did? Yeah, that was beyond too far.”
“Yet you did it anyway,” Levi said, a lump in his throat.
“I did. And I’m both sorry and not.”
Levi wound the thread through itself and tied it off. “Now would be a really great time to explain that bit of tricky logic.”
“I’m sorry because you didn’t know the truth, and I hated keeping it from you. Because it made me feel like I was using you. But I’m not sorry because I really did enjoy the little bit of time we had together, both your friendship and what...what we were probably headed for.”
Stop talking to him about this, Levi.
He ignored Lou as he opened the iodine. “You really felt something for me?”
“I know believing me isn’t exactly on the top of your to-do list, but yes, I really did. Do.”
Levi was silent as he used a cotton ball to smear the iodine around. He watched the red fluid soak into Jacob’s skin before taking out one of the large adhesive bandages from the kit. He wasn’t sure if he should cover it or not, but it gave him something to do as he mulled over Jacob’s words.
God. You’re believing this, aren’t you?
To that, Levi said nothing as he finished patching Jacob up. He could understand Lou’s frustration and dismay, as he was feeling it a bit himself. Because in the end, he could feel himself believing Jacob. It was stupid, and it was foolish. Jacob had already proved he was willing to lie to Levi, especially if he was ordered to.
Yet he couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like to be with Jacob. If Jacob had been telling the truth before, and that was a big if, then it meant what they’d felt for each other, had experienced with one another, had been true. Jacob’s motivation for being in Gilcreek was a lie, but did that necessarily mean that everything else had been a lie?
His head throbbed, and