Levi's Blue: A Sexy Southern Romance (23 page)

Levi falls quiet for a few seconds, and what little piece of my heart is still alive squeezes in grief at his obvious pain.

“The day Rachel was going to be discharged, I went home early to get a shower and change clothes and then come back for her. When I got back, she was gone.  My father had been a busy man, covering up his wrongdoing.  He’d made arrangements for her to disappear. And so she did. I don’t know what he said to her, what he threatened her with, but she left. Without a word. Without a note. Without a goodbye, sorry about our baby.  She just…left.  He wouldn’t tell me where she went. Said she didn’t want to see me, and that it was for the best.  He said we had to keep everything that happened that night quiet.  It would end his career if it ever got out that he’d been drinking and driving and got involved in a hit-and-run.

“I didn’t see her again until I touched her cold face inside the casket she was buried in. One of my friends saw the funeral announcement in the paper, told me about it. She…she…Rachel killed herself three months after we lost the baby.  After we…hit you.”

I say nothing.

Levi says nothing.

There is utter silence as I digest his words. There is utter silence as I remember that night. There is utter silence as my soul bursts into consuming, excruciating flame.

My throat is clogged.  Grief, for me and for Levi, disbelief that this could be our convoluted history, betrayal at the fact that he could keep this from me, that he could do this to me—it all rises up to bottleneck in my throat, nearly choking off my words. Relentlessly, I force them out. I have to set them free. I have to know his answer.

“Were…were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to keep pretending?”

“I…was, yes.” His pause says otherwise.  I don’t hear the truth. I hear uncertainty. Maybe he
wanted
to tell me, but I don’t believe that he actually intended to.  If he had, he already would’ve.  “I wanted to, but I was…” He stands, his heat withdrawn from me, leaving me colder than ever before.  “Jesus, Evie, I was afraid you’d never be able to forgive me.  Hell,
I
can’t forgive me. Or my father.  What happened…what we did…it was
unforgiveable
. I was so drunk and I…I just didn’t know what to do.  But that doesn’t change anything, doesn’t make it right.  It was unconscionable.”

I don’t bother to argue. I don’t bother to pretend that I disagree. Because I don’t. I don’t disagree at all.  What they did
was
unconscionable.  They left me for dead.

“But even so,” he says, coming to squat in front of me again, “I hope you
can
forgive me.  We never meant to hurt you. I swear to God, Evie,
I swear to God
I tried to help you. You
did
see me because I
did
try to save you.  And…and you said you’d moved on from that night, that you were able to forgive the people who did this to you. Did you mean that? Were you telling the truth?”

I turn my face away, but I imagine his eyes following me.  “I thought I was. I thought I
did
forgive them, but…”

A fresh wash of hot tears spill from my eyes and pour down my cheeks. 

“I would’ve told you eventually.  I promise. I was just so afraid of losing you. Please believe me.
Please.
”

The last is said on a whisper, a desperate plea.  He sounds a little more convincing, but I’m not sure it matters.  Not now. Not after this. I’m not sure anything he says will matter after this.

“But instead you let
her
tell me.  I had to hear it from
Julianne
?”

Saying the words, hearing them fill the quiet is like a knife to the chest. Or a dozen knives to the chest, peppering me with pain, cutting to the bone. Shredding what was left of me before Levi came into my life.

“Evie, I,” he slowly begins, his voice a tortured blend of regret and guilt.

Before he can finish, another thought enters the despondent whirlwind of my mind, adding more agony to the already unbearable anguish. 

Dumping salt into the wound.

What if all this has been some sick way of assuaging his guilt? What if it’s been a morbid way to check up on the woman left for dead on the side of the road?  What if he came into my life
on purpose
?

“Did…did you know who I was?  That night, at the showing, did you know I was the girl you hit?”

I’ve never known silence to actually
hurt.
But this silence does. It pricks like a thousand needles, piercing my tender skin, each one drawing blood. 

I lurch to a stand, needing to be as far away from him as I can get.  I stumble across the room, reaching for a wall, reaching for stability. Reaching for something to hold me up so I don’t crumble into a million tiny pieces.  “Is that why you came? Did you seek me out? Did you seek me out because you feel
guilty
?”

I suck in a deep, corrosive breath.  It burns its way through me. The simple thought that these days with Levi have been fake… The mere
suggestion
that those nights we shared weren’t real… It burns. Like battery acid, eating away at my insides until there’s nothing left but the hurt.

“Evie, it wasn’t like that. You have to believe me.  I
thought
there was a chance it could be you when I read about you in the paper. When I saw that you’d been the victim of a hit-and-run during your time at Columbia, I
suspected
, but I didn’t know for sure until I saw you.  Then I knew. I knew the moment I saw you. I’ve never been able to forget you, never been able to unsee your eyes as they looked up at me. They were my own personal hell until I met you.  Then they became my salvation.”

I hear his words, but I don’t really
hear
them. I’m stuck in the horrific rut of pain and humiliation, finding out that he knew me.  He
knew me.

“So you’re trying to make it up to me, is that it? You’ve been spending time with me, taking me places, being a part of my life
out of sympathy
?”

Even the words feel bitter on my tongue.  I’m so mortified, I just want to dig a hole, crawl into it, and never come back out.

“No, Evie, no!
God no
!” he exclaims, his voice drawing nearer.

I hold out my hand to stay him. I want to beg him to leave, to stay away from me, but I can’t. I have to know. I have to hear from his lips what all this really was. Whether I’ll ever be able to believe him or not, I need to hear it.

“Then what was it?  Did you buy my paintings? Are you trying to pay me off? Absolve your family of any wrong doing?”

“No, I’m not. I…I wouldn’t do that. I bought
one painting
because I had to have it. Because it was of
you. 
Because when I looked at it, I saw
you. 
And somehow, you’ve become like air to me. Looking at
Lady,
looking at
you,
I can breathe again.  But I swear that’s the only one.”

“You bought… You bought
Lady
?  She was forty thousand dollars!  And you’re going to stand here and tell me it had
nothing to do with
the fact that your father destroyed my life and then ran away without a word? Without having to pay a dime toward my hospital bills? Without giving me closure? You expect me to believe one had
nothing to do
with the other?”

I hear his sigh.  And when he speaks, I hear the defeat in his voice. “No, I don’t expect you to believe it.  You have no reason to believe a word I say. About
anything.
But I hope you will anyway. Because it’s the truth.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself, an unfathomable cold seeping into my bones, into my heart. Into my
soul.

“When I bought that painting, I had no idea you were saving the money for surgery. I only knew that I had to have it.  I
needed
it.  Like I need
you.
It’s as simple as that.”

“Simple? Nothing about us,
about this
is simple.  You
lied
to me. You
purposely deceived
me.  How is that simple?”

“That’s…that’s not what I meant, Evie.” His words are quiet, his tone subdued. Defeated. “I don’t know what I expected. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen.  Maybe some part of me thought that, if it was you, I could help.  But after I saw you, after you fell into my arms and I got to talk to you, to
know you,
anything I might’ve wanted flew right out the window.  I think…I think I might be fallin—”

“Don’t,” I whisper, the breath stolen right from my lungs.  “Please don’t. Just stop speaking.” It takes all of my strength to swallow the sob that’s lurking at the back of my throat.  “You need to leave, Levi.
I…I can’t do this anymore. I just…I can’t.”

“Evie—”

“No. Just go. Please.”

“Evie, I—”

“Go!” I shout, my voice quavering.

The quiet that follows my shout is like a tar pit. I feel all the good parts of my life, all the love and happiness and color of it, falling into its sticky black depths and being swallowed whole. I know the moment Levi walks out of this room, I will never feel them again. They will be gone forever.

The front door creaks open and then, seconds later, it creaks closed.  I’m holding my breath, waiting for the end to come and destroy me, when I realize I’m still wearing the glasses. I tear them from my face, snap them in two, and throw them across the room. For long moments, I’m stiff and motionless but for my heaving chest. And then, as though the fight in me got swallowed up by the tar pit, too, my legs give out. 

I fall apart, crumpling neatly to the floor to dissolve in a puddle of my own tears.

CHAPTER 22

EVIE

SOMEONE IS banging at the door.  Reluctantly, I roll over.  I smack the clock on my bedside table, and it announces in a woman’s robotic voice that it’s 9:38 PM.

Groggily, I roll back over. I don’t even care that I’ve been in bed all day. I don’t even care that the phone has chimed at least a dozen times. I don’t even care that there’s life going on outside my bedroom door. I just want to sleep.

To hide.

And to not come out until the pain is gone.

The banging persists, and I half-growl, half-whimper. “I just want to be left alone,” I tell the night.  But when the knocking grows louder, I force myself from the safe haven of my covers and trudge my way through the cold, empty apartment.

“Who is it?” I bark.

“Jacob, from down the hall. Cherelyn called and asked me to check on you. She’s been calling for hours and couldn’t get you.”

“Oh.” Now I feel like a piece of shit.  “I’ll call her. Sorry, Jacob.”

“Just glad you’re okay,” he says, but his voice says that he’s more than a little irritated at having to be Cherelyn’s lackey.

My limbs feel like weighted rubber as I move them around the living room and then the kitchen in search of my phone. I heard it ring, so it can’t be far.

I finally find it, lying in the chair that I sat in while Levi dropped his bombs.  I curl up into it, drawing my legs up to my chest, and I tell Siri to call Cherelyn.  She answers on the first ring.

“God Almighty, you scared the hell out of me,” she says by way of answer.

“Sorry. I was in bed.”

“
All day
?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Are you sick?”

“No.”  Not unless heartsick counted.

“Ahhhh, then you were in bed
not sleeping
,” she deduces with a devious smile in her voice.

“No, not that.”  My tone is as glum and lifeless as I feel.

“Oh,” she says, deadpan. “What happened?”

The moment she asks, the moment she understands that things have gone completely wrong in every way possible, my throat constricts, throttling my vocal cords.  I feel like I’m being strangled.  Strangled by the truth.

“It was Levi, Cher,” I manage to croak.

“What was Levi?”

“He…he was in the SUV that hit me.”

Total silence greets me.  I hear only the muted buzz of the open line as my friend digests what I’ve said. I know I don’t need to elaborate. She knows me, knows my history too well not to put those pieces together.

“Oh Jesus,” she finally whispers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Was he driving?”

“No, he was a passenger.”

“Oh. Well, ma—”

“No, there is no ‘well.’  There is no excuse. There is no forgiveness.  He wasn’t driving, but he’s the one who left me.”  Agony fills me up and bubbles over, spilling out in my voice, in my tears, in the way I draw my legs in tighter, more protectively.  “His father hit me, but it was Levi who…who… Levi
saw me.
He
knew
I was hurt.  But he left me. He’s the one who left me.”

Saying the words out loud tear the wound wider, rip the gash deeper.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?  How did you find out?”

Words collide, an interstate pile-up in the corridor of my throat.  “The mail you left me, the stuff I told you not to open?  It was a recordable card.  From Julianne.  She’s the one who told me.”

“That horrible bitch who came to the apartment? I wouldn’t believe a word she says.”

If only that’s all there was to it. If only it was as simple as her lying to keep Levi and me apart.

“Levi came by shortly after I got it.  She must’ve told him what she did. He came to the door and asked if I knew. He confessed to everything, Cher.  He did it. He
really
did do it.”

“Oh my sweet God, Evie. I…I…I don’t even know what to say.”

My laugh is bitter. Bitter and hateful.  “There’s nothing
to
say.  He was too good to be true. I should’ve known. I should’ve known a man like him wouldn’t be interested in me. Not like that.
No man
is.”

“Evie, you’ve got to stop thinking that way. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I saw you with a gorgeous, charming man.  You’re the most amazing, talented, funny chick I know.  If
anybody
deserves a guy like that, it’s you.”

“I’m blind, Cher. I’m a burden. And while I can’t
actually see,
I should’ve seen right through him.”

“You are
not
a burden, Evie. And you can’t blame yourself for this. There is no way you could’ve known. No one would’ve seen this coming.”

“I should’ve. I should’ve known.”

“You can’t live your life expecting everyone to let you down just because a few have. There
is
a man out there who will love you for
exactly
who you are, and the ones who don’t are pieces of shit that don’t deserve you. You can’t let them poison you against
all men.
One will come along and realize what he’s found in you—something rare and wonderful. I have no doubt of that. None whatsoever.”

“You’re biased.
And
you don’t know what it’s like to try to date me.”

“No, but I know
you. 
And that’s all I
need to know. 
Plus, I’ve seen you in action.  You’re obviously a very good kisser.”

I know she’s trying to lighten the mood a little. Cheer me up.  And I should laugh.

But I can’t. 

I don’t have any laughter left in me.

“This is what I get for letting my guard down.  I was so flattered, so enthralled, so…charmed that I couldn’t see.  I couldn’t see him for what he is.”

“You couldn’t have known, E.  There’s no way in the world you could’ve known,” she reiterates.

There’s something else I have to tell her, something that’s haunted me as much, if not more than everything else that happened last night.

I sniffle, feeling hysteria build behind my ribs. “H-he…I think he started to tell me he was falling in love with me.”

Of everything that Levi has said and done, I think that hurt me worst. Before he came to my door last night, I was thinking that same thing about him.  That I could love him.  That it would be so easy to love him.  And that I might already.

“Oh
God
!” she says again, a groan almost.  “That asshole!  To even
consider
saying that when he…” 

She was going to fuel my anger, take my side, defend my honor, but she stops. My best friend trails off, leaving me alone in my misery.

When she begins to speak again, Cherelyn’s voice is hesitant. 

“Before this,” she says quietly and carefully, “you’d moved on. You’d forgiven the people who did this to you.  Nameless, faceless bastards who would leave a girl to die.  I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, but does knowing who actually did it change that?  Does it change the fact that you picked up the pieces of your life, took those lemons and made the best damn lemonade in the world?”

Everything in me clenches at her question. “What are you asking, Cher?”

“Well…I just remember you telling me that you’d had to move on, for
your
sake, not for theirs.  And you did. You forgave them for
your
benefit.  And that hasn’t changed, right?  Knowing who did it, it’s still better
for you
to forgive them, right?”

I say nothing as I take in her words.

“An-and you thought you saw a face.  A face of someone you thought was trying to help you.  Maybe you did. And maybe he was.”

“Cher,
what are you saying
?”

She sighs. “Hell, I don’t know.  I guess I was just thinking out loud.”  After a moment of leaving me to stew in her queries, she poses another question softly, almost gently, like she’s trying not to break me. Break me
further
.  “Evie, can I ask you something?”

“I don’t know.”

And I don’t. I’m so tied in knots right now, I don’t know that I’ll ever feel smooth and calm again.

Cherelyn asks anyway, “Do you
want him
to love you?”

I don’t say anything for a few seconds, my mouth hanging open in disbelief.  “How can you even ask me that?  After all this!”

“Well, I mean, I kinda thought you might be falling for him. And I’m not at all surprised to hear that he thinks he’s falling for you. I just got that feeling somehow.”

“Is there a point in here somewhere, or are you just trying to make this worse?”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing, E. I guess I’m just trying to be objective. For you. Help you
see
.”

“There’s nothing else to
see,
Cher. He did it. That’s pretty clear.”

“Yeah, but did he tell you
why
? Did he give you an explanation? A reason for leaving you that way? I mean, I’m not saying it would matter, but to do that for no good reason seems pretty damn cold, and he didn’t give me the impression that he was a soulless asshole.”

“Can
anyone
have a good reason for leaving a badly injured young girl alone on the streets of New York in the middle of the night?”

“Probably not. I just thought I’d ask. I thought maybe he’d at least
tried
to do the right thing.”

“He called 9-1-1,” I grudgingly admit, but then my sniffles become sobs when I further explain. It hurts to even admit this part. “But then
he left me. 
He chose his girlfriend over me, and
he left me.
”

“His girlfriend?”

“She was in labor.”

“She was
in labor
?”

“Y-yeah,” I blubber.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. She was bleeding. She…
they
lost the baby.”

I hear her wispy gasp, one she probably tried to swallow to keep me from hearing it.  “Oh my…that’s like…
God!
What a horrible situation!  Jesus! You just can’t make this shit up.”

“Who would want to?”

“I know, babe. I know.  I’m just…wow! I’m so sorry, Evie. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Wanna come home and smother me with a pillow?”

“No!”

“Hold me under water?”

“No!”

“Stick my head in the oven and turn it on?”

“No!”

“Push me into traffic?”

“Evie! Definitely not,” she cries before adding playfully,  “Besides, that’s been done.”

I
do
snort at that. “Pretty much.”

“I’ll let you cry on my shoulder when I get there, though. And then we’ll plot awful things to do to him. Hold him down and wax his entire body. Introduce him to Ben Wa balls the hard way. Shave his head, break his teeth, smash his peen. You know, the usual.”

I feel a tiny bit of a smile creep across my face.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too, beautiful.  You’ll get through this.”

“I know.”

“And you’ll get over him.”

“I know,” I repeat, but in my head, I know it’s not true.  And the sad thing is, I think Cherelyn knows it, too.

Levi Michaelson has wrecked me. He’s destroyed me in a way that no man has. That even no
car
has.  That SUV took my sight.  But Levi…he took what was left.

And the worst part is that, somewhere in the back of my heart, behind the pieces of me that hate him, I realize there’s a good chance that I love him.  Still. 

And
that
might truly be the one thing I can’t recover from.