Redemption (The Protectors 8)

I didn’t believe in much anymore and especially not in things I couldn’t see or feel. And even on the off chance that Father O could convince me that the same higher power existed who’d ignored so many pleas that night seven years ago, my own included, I wouldn’t be wasting His time asking for forgiveness for everything I’d done.

I didn’t deserve it.

Not from Him.

Not from the young man I’d helped make suffer in the cruelest of ways.

No, T was my well-earned penance. I deserved everything he did to me and then some. If I wasn’t such a fucking coward, I’d walk into the nearest police station and finally do what I should have done seven years ago.

Only, it wasn’t just about me anymore.

I found some relief from the rain when I reached the bus shelter. On most days, I’d just walk the fifteen blocks that took me from home to St. Anthony’s or work, but I was already running late after having had another row with Dina this morning. Our conversation had been proof that I needed to give up the evenings I spent at St. Anthony’s before I headed to work, but I was struggling with the idea of no longer volunteering at the soup kitchen Father O ran. Letting T punish my body did nothing to ease the burden on my soul. I knew helping feed a few dozen homeless people night after night wasn’t much, but it was one of only two bright spots in my life and I wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Though, if Dina had her way, giving up one bright spot was the only way to keep the other one.

Thankfully, the bus was on time and was mostly empty, so I didn’t have any trouble finding a seat.

“Hi Carl,” I said to the driver with a nod as I slid my metro card through the reader.

“Wasn’t sure I’d see you this afternoon,” the older man said. “It’s barely even drizzling out.”

I nearly smiled at that because it was most definitely more than drizzling, but for Seattle, the steady rain, though light, was pretty much a part of the city’s landscape, just like the Marketplace and the Space Needle. Only tourists would feel the need to escape the weather, either by using an umbrella or sticking to indoor activities.

“Running late,” I explained. “How’s Clarice?”

Carl snorted. “Wants me to take her to the opera for our fortieth anniversary,” he groused. “Says I need to wear a monkey suit and everything.”

I chuckled. “Better do it,” I suggested. “Forty’s a big deal.”

“Thirty-nine years of dinner at the Olive Garden suddenly ain’t fancy enough for her anymore,” the older man muttered. “Damn woman.”

I patted the man on the shoulder. “Don’t forget to get her flowers and act like you’re picking her up for your date,” I said with a smile before going to the first seat and dropping down into it. Carl grumbled something before swinging the door closed and getting the bus moving.

A chill swept over my body as the warmth of the bus clashed with my wet clothes. Not a good day to have forgotten my jacket, which would have at least offered a bit of protection from the weather. For as late as it was in spring, Mother Nature didn’t seem willing to completely let go of winter just yet.

Exhaustion settled into my limbs as the gentle motion of the bus had me seeking out the corner of the seat. I let my head loll against the window as I watched the scenery roll by. Rush hour was starting to pick up so the bus moved at a snail’s pace, giving the warmth from the heater a chance to settle over me. Before I knew it and against my wishes, my eyes rolled shut and I was dropped right back into the same nightmare I’d been re-living for the last seven years.

Seven years earlier

“Levi, you got that?”

Before I even had a chance to nod, Ricky’s open hand slapped the side of my head.

“Stop that fucking daydreaming, you little shit!” Ricky snapped.

I managed to dodge his next slap, which only served to enrage my brother more and he shifted his whole body so he could lean over the car’s front bench seat into the back and grab me by the hair.

“You fuck this up for me…” he warned.

“I won’t!” I cried out as tears stung my eyes. “I promise, Ricky.”

I held perfectly still as he studied me. It was pitch dark in the car, but it still felt like he could see everything in my eyes. Hell, if he’d been hanging onto my arm, he would have felt how cold I was, as well as the tremors that were violently wracking my body.

Ricky shoved me away and I quickly slunk to the corner of the backseat so I was just behind the driver’s seat. It wouldn’t stop Ricky from getting to me if he really wanted to, but the farther away I was from him, the easier it would be to get ahold of myself.