Redemption (The Protectors 8)

“But burning yourself, Levi-” I said as I shook my head.

“I wish I’d done it sooner,” he cut in. I snapped my eyes up to meet his, but before I could respond, he said, “The look in your eyes, Phoenix…”

He shook his head. “I’m going to lose you,” he murmured. “I know that. But I couldn’t let it be because of that damn tattoo.”

“You’re not going to lose-” I began, but he kissed me before I could finish the statement. His hand crept around to the back of my head and he held me in place. The kiss was tame, but incredibly moving.

“Please don’t make me a promise you can’t keep,” he whispered.

I didn’t say anything because he was right. All this, his admissions, me telling him about my family and my daughter, it really didn’t change things. At least not the most fundamental thing.

Not yet, anyway.

I wanted desperately to ask him about T, but I knew I couldn’t. I owed it to Seth and Ronan and their children to ferret out the truth and I wasn’t one hundred percent certain I’d get the truth if I just asked Levi for it.

“Are you still in touch with Hank?”

“He calls every once in a while and we write letters, but I haven’t been to see him. He made me promise not to. He wants me to focus on the future.” Levi was quiet for a moment before saying, “He’s how I met Father O. Father O visits the prison once a month and he was the one who got Hank started on his religious studies.”

“What is Hank in for?”

“He killed his father. Hank told me he found out his father sexually abused his sister for years. She committed suicide and left a note for Hank telling him what their father had done. Hank had a ten-year-old daughter…after he found his sister and the note, he asked his daughter if her grandfather had ever touched her…”

Levi’s words dropping off answered the question before I could ask it. “He confronted his father and they fought. Hank shot him. He said his lawyer told him he wouldn’t be able to get his sister’s admission admitted as evidence and Hank refused to let his daughter testify, so he took a plea deal. He’s on his fifth year of a thirty-year sentence. His wife took their daughter and moved to South America to be closer to family. He hasn’t seen his daughter since the day he took the plea deal.”

Levi shook his head. “I owe him so much,” he murmured. “He wouldn’t let me give up on myself. When Dina had Henry, she let me name him because she didn’t care what he was called so I named him after Hank, whose real name is Henry.” Levi lifted his gaze to meet mine. “I guess I wanted Henry to carry the name of a really good man with him for the rest of his life.”

“I bet Hank really loved hearing that.”

“He did, but I had to tell him over the phone. He’ll probably never get the chance to meet Henry. Even if I went against his wishes and took Henry to the prison to meet him, Hank’s a level two offender, so he’s only allowed to have contact visits with immediate family. I just…I can’t imagine going back there and only being allowed to talk to him with a pane of plastic separating us and having to use a phone. He wouldn’t get to hold Henry…it just seems cruel considering everything he’s lost.”

I could certainly understand that. No, I had no regrets about meeting Henry or interacting with the child, but I wasn’t going to lie and say it was easy to separate out my emotions. Any child I encountered was a reminder of my own loss. But I also couldn’t imagine having met a girl like Nicole and not having been allowed to interact with her. And Henry was just such an incredible little boy…now that I’d had a chance to spend time with him, I wanted to do it again, despite the pain that came along with being around him.

As Levi fell silent, I let my fingers thread through his hair and I gently tilted his head up. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” I said just before I kissed him. He kissed me back without hesitation and when my tongue sought entry into his mouth, he eagerly opened for me. I loved kissing him. It wasn’t something I’d ever cared about much either way with other guys, but with Levi, I could easily do it for hours and not need more.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t want more.

But after everything he’d told me, I knew sex was something he wasn’t ready for. It might not be something he’d ever be ready for.

Was I okay with that?