Between Sinners And Saints

  "You keep asking me that."

  "You keep not answering."

  "I'm learning to be evasive." Levi opened his eyes and tipped his head back to look up at him. "You taught me well."

  Jaime had to laugh. "Fine."

  They fell silent, and Jaime continued to work. He felt at peace. Massage allowed him to touch Levi and be close to him without feeling threatened. He rubbed Levi's neck until he thought he'd done some good, then moved down and worked as much of his chest as he could reach from his position on the chair. When he was done, he smacked Levi playfully on the cheek to wake him up. "Why don't you turn over now?"

  Levi obediently rolled onto his stomach. Jaime hadn't brought any oils, but he went in the bathroom and found the complimentary bottle of lotion. It wasn't ideal, but it would work well enough. He climbed onto the bed and sat across Levi's ass. He took the lid off the bottle and shook it over Levi's back until a glop fell out and landed on Levi's spine. Levi jumped, which made Jaime laugh.

  "Fucking sadist," Levi said.

  "Do you want a massage or not?"

  "Does it involve you torturing me?"

  "Do you think that's what I'm doing?" Jaime teased.

  "You have no idea how much."

  "So you want me to stop?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

  "Definitely not."

  "Okay then," he said as he dropped more lotion onto Levi's back, just to watch him jump. "Shut up and be good."

  "Yes, master."

  He started low on Levi's back, which was extremely tight on one side, as it often was. He couldn't make Levi do the movements that would help loosen it--not while sitting on him--so he settled for basic massage. Once the muscles had loosened a little, he moved up Levi's spine. He'd massaged Levi many times, but only one other time had it been like this, straddling Levi as he lay on a bed, and as Jaime began to move higher on Levi's back, he began to realize how arousing it was. Levi's ass was soft underneath him, his crack cradling Jaime's balls. He leaned forward to rub Levi's neck and realized how good it felt to push against him. Levi's hair was everywhere, covering his face, and Jaime pushed it up, off his face and his neck. He wanted to lean over and put his lips on the nape of his neck. He longed to lie on top of Levi, to see what it would feel like to be skin to skin with him.

  He was becoming more and more aroused, his cock beginning to harden, and he wondered with embarrassment if Levi could tell. He'd certainly be able to tell if Jaime leaned too far forward, so he went back to Levi's lower back. He rubbed his sciatica some, too, although only through Levi's shorts. He worked and worked until Levi was limp and pliant beneath him, and until his own physical response was back under control.

  "Better?" he asked.

  It took Levi a moment to answer. He was so relaxed, Jaime thought he might have been half asleep. "Yes," he finally said with a sigh.

  "Good." The movie was over, and Jaime started to reach for the remote, but Levi's voice stopped him.

  "Jaime?"

  "Yes?"

  "God, I love you so much."

  Jaime's heart jumped in his chest. For one fraction of a second he thought Levi meant it. But then he realized Levi was talking about the massage. Jaime smiled. He leaned over and kissed Levi's temple before rolling off him to grab the remote. "I know," he said to Levi. "That's what all my clients say."

  Chapter 26

  Their car was fixed by two o'clock on Monday afternoon, but even driving too fast and barely stopping on the way, it was after midnight by the time they got home. Levi was glad his interview with the nursery wasn't until Thursday. That meant he'd have two more days to study. He'd found some of his old textbooks at his parents' house and spent as much time as he could re-reading them during their stay in Georgetown and on the drive home. He'd forgotten far more than he liked to admit.

  Jaime groaned as they climbed the stairs to Levi's apartment. "I have to be awake again in three hours."

  "Your first appointment isn't until nine-thirty."

  "I put one of the reschedules at eight."

  "Sleep until seven at least," Levi urged, although he was sure Jaime wouldn't listen. Once inside, Jaime crawled straight into Levi's bed and fell fast asleep. Levi lay awake in bed, watching him sleep, as he seemed to do so often.

  He thought about how close he'd come to kissing Jaime on the beach. He'd wanted to so much, but he'd been afraid of scaring Jaime away. He'd stood there, holding Jaime's hand, wondering if he should do it, wondering if he was about to ruin everything, wishing Jaime would give him some kind of sign. And then...he had! He'd leaned forward, as if he was reaching for Levi, as if he longed for the kiss as much as Levi did, and Levi had known a moment of pure joy.

  Until the asshole next to them had ruined it.

  Back at the hotel, lying underneath Jaime had been a wonderful form of torture, especially for those few minutes when he could have sworn Jaime was as aroused as he was.

  It had been surprisingly easy to confess his feelings to Jaime. Then again, he'd known when he said the words that Jaime wouldn't believe him. It didn't matter. Whether Jaime had believed them or not, Levi had meant them with all his heart. And by saying them aloud, he'd made them real, to himself at least. He loved Jaime. He loved him so much sometimes he thought he must certainly be losing his mind. It was hard to believe his heart could go on beating minute after minute, day after day, when it felt so distorted and huge and fragile. But go on beating it did. And he could only hope each beat brought him a second closer to being with Jaime.

  He was unbelievably nervous for his job interview on Thursday. He was sure he didn't remember enough to be of any benefit to the nursery, but it seemed they disagreed because he was offered the job. It was a part-time position and it paid very little. By some random stroke of luck, he received a second job offer the same day, this one for a bartender position at one of the local golf courses. He would have preferred the nursery, but the job at the golf course was full-time for better pay and it included tips. He swallowed his pride and accepted the fact that, for a little longer at least, he was to remain a bartender.

  The position was for weekdays. Working Monday through Friday nine-thirty to six was going to be a big change from working weekend nights at the club, but he was looking forward to it, especially since it left his evenings and weekends free to be with Jaime. However, it also meant giving up his massage appointments.

  He had a massage scheduled for that afternoon, and Jaime smiled when Levi told him it would have to be his last one.

  "Your last appointment during my regular business hours maybe," he said. "I'm sure we can make other arrangements."

  "You're willing to torture me on the weekends?" Levi asked.

  "Only because you're such a willing victim."

  He sure couldn't deny that. "So I get more massages like the one in Charleston?"

  He was pleased to see Jaime blush. "Maybe," Jaime said, smiling, but refusing to meet Levi's eyes. "The truth is you don't need to come as often as you do. We've had your psoas straightened out for a long time now. I should've moved you to every other week by now anyway."

  "Really? So why didn't you?"

  "Because I like taking your money."

  It was an obvious lie. Jaime had quit charging him for massages weeks earlier, arguing it was the least he could do in return for staying at Levi's apartment every night. "I think it's because you really are a bit of a sadist and you like torturing me."

  Jaime smiled. "How about on laundry day?" Laundry day was a new thing for them. Jaime had realized shortly before Thanksgiving that Levi still took his dirty clothes to a Laundromat. He offered to let him do his laundry at his house instead. Since Jaime was so seldom at his own house anymore, it had become a regular thing for them to spend Sunday afternoons together at Jaime's house while the washer and dryer ran.

  "It's a deal," Levi told him.

  He was embarrassed when his mother called a few days later and he had to confess he was once again working at a bar. He hadn't
even wanted his family to know he'd left The Zone, but now they did know, he wanted to prove to them he could do better. And yet, maybe he couldn't.

  "Don't worry about it a bit, honey," his mother told him. "You may not have found the place you want to be quite yet, but it's still better than where you were."

  Working the golf course bar was a strange change of pace from The Zone. Some days the place was completely dead. Some days it was unbelievably busy. His fellow bartender was a woman in high heels and a mini-skirt who told him, with a straight face, that her name was Candy Rose. She was about his age with fake breasts the size of small watermelons. The male golfers ignored Levi in favor of Candy, and for the first time in his life, Levi found himself dealing almost entirely with women. Not just any women, either. Most of them were older than he was, and not a bit shy about coming on to him. Their sexual aggression made him surprisingly uncomfortable.

  "Just flirt with them," Candy told him.

  "I can't," Levi countered. At the club, there wasn't much casual flirtation. Either you weren't interested in the other guy or you went in the back room and fucked. There wasn't much middle ground. "I don't want any of them to think I'll sleep with them."

  Candy laughed so hard, she almost fell off of her chair. "Look, loverboy, they don't want to sleep with you. All they want is to flirt and feel sexy again. Then they can go home to their fat, inattentive husbands and their ungrateful kids, and they can think, 'At least somebody still sees me as a woman.' You're not leading them on. You're just reminding them they've still got it. That's all they want."

  Levi still wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but a little bit of flirting with them did do wonders for his pay. His tips practically doubled. And he soon started to realize Candy was right. Most of the women he flirted with wanted nothing more to do with him.

  * * * *

  The following Sunday, he and Jaime took their dirty clothes to Jaime's house as usual. Levi was supposed to get his massage that day, too, and he was definitely looking forward to it, not because his back was bothering him, but because he loved having Jaime touch him. But the massage wasn't meant to be.

  Levi was digging in the fridge, thinking he needed to start bringing beer over on Sundays when Jaime came in from the front porch with his mail from the day before.

  "Bills, bills, junk," he recited as he flipped through it. "What's this?" He stopped short, and when he spoke again, his voice was shaky. "Oh God."

  "What's wrong?" Levi asked, turning to look at him.

  What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Jaime was on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter in the corner. He was wearing his reading glasses, which Levi saw so seldom he still sometimes forgot they existed at all. Jaime was staring down at an envelope in his hand, his face deathly white. His hand was shaking so hard the envelope seemed to vibrate.

  "What is it?" Levi asked.

  Jaime didn't answer him, but tore open the envelope, dropping everything else on the floor as he did. He pulled out a yellow sheet of stationary and began to read. His eyes flew across the page. When he was finished, he bent over, putting his hands on his knees and breathing deep. "I think I'm going to be sick."

  "Jaime, what the hell is going on?"

  Jaime didn't answer. He shrank into himself, sliding down the cabinets until he was sitting on the floor. He put his head between his knees and his arms over his head.

  "Jaime?" Levi said, stepping toward him. "Are you okay?"

  He reached out to touch Jaime's shoulder, but Jaime flinched away from him. "Don't touch me!"

  "Jaime, talk to me."

  Jaime curled tighter in on himself, curled practically in a ball. "Leave me alone," he begged. "Go away."

  "Who's the letter from, Jaime?" Jaime offered no answer. Levi was quickly going from concerned to downright scared. He was afraid Jaime was going into shock. "I won't touch you," he said, "but I want to help."

  "You can't," Jaime whispered. "Go away, please."

  Levi debated what he should do. He thought about snatching the letter out of Jaime's hand and reading it himself, but he knew that wouldn't be right. He had no idea how to comfort Jaime without touching him. He wished they'd never come to Jaime's house. He wished they'd stayed at his apartment.

  And suddenly, he knew what Jaime needed. "I'll be back," he told Jaime. "Will you be okay? I'll be gone fifteen minutes, max."

  No response from Jaime at all. Visions of the scars on Jaime's wrist floated into Levi's mind. He hoped he was making the right choice.

  "Jaime, promise me you won't do anything. Promise you'll wait for me to get back."

  "Just go," Jaime said, not looking up.

  Levi drove like a maniac. The farther he got from Jaime's house, the more his imagination ran away from him. He imagined going back to find Jaime lying in a pool of blood or with an empty bottle of pills in his hand. He worried he never should have left, but it seemed foolish to turn back now. He raced up the stairs to his apartment, where Dolly napped on the couch, and then drove even faster back to Jaime's house, praying the entire time he wouldn't get pulled over or be too late.

  Jaime was still sitting on the kitchen floor when he got back. It looked as if he hadn't moved an inch. But when Dolly sniffed him, wagging her tail and nudging him with her nose, he looked up. She butted her head under his chin, sitting down almost on top of him.

  Jaime laughed. It was a sad, hollow laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. He wrapped his arms around her. "Hi, Dolly," he said. "You're such a good dog." And then he buried his face in her fur and burst into tears.

  * * * *

  Levi waited in the living room. The silent withdrawal had scared him to death, but now Jaime was crying, Levi knew he'd be okay. He turned on the TV. Luck was with him, and Syfy was showing another horrible made-for-TV monster movie. Levi turned the volume up. Jaime needed his space right now, but Levi wanted him to know he was still there.

  Sure enough, Jaime eventually wandered in. His eyes were red, but his cheeks were dry. He sat down next to Levi, although he couldn't meet his eyes. He seemed to be debating what to say. Levi turned off the TV and waited patiently.

  "Something happened to me," Jaime said at last, his voice shaky and weak. "When I was young. Something..." He put his head down, squeezing his eyes tight against tears that wouldn't be stopped.

  "You don't have to tell me," Levi said as gently as he could. He'd had his suspicions before and he didn't need the details to confirm them. "When was this?"

  "I was just a kid."

  "Who was it?"

  "My uncle."

  Levi fought back the horrible rage welling up in him--it wasn't that it was unwarranted, but it wouldn't do Jaime any good right now. "Is that who the letter's from?"

  Jaime nodded, still unable to meet Levi's eyes. "He has emphysema. He apparently has only a few weeks to live." Jaime wiped his eyes and sat up a little straighter. "He might even be dead already. Who knows?"

  "What did he want?"

  "My forgiveness," he said. "Now he's about to die, he thinks it's time we 'bury the hatchet.' He says he's confessed his sins and made his peace with God, but the priest told him he needed to apologize to me. He says God has forgiven him, but he needs me to forgive him as well."

  "What are you going to do?" Levi asked.

  "He can burn in hell," Jaime said with far more bitterness than Levi had ever heard from him. "I don't give a fuck."

  "I don't think he can expect to be forgiven for what he did."

  "I don't know, Levi," Jaime said, and his voice broke on the words. He looked up at him with anguish in his eyes. "Will I go to hell, too?" he asked.

  "Why would you?"

  "Because," Jaime said, and now the tears were coming again, faster this time, "I'm supposed to forgive, but I can't. I won't!"

  It broke Levi's heart to see Jaime tearing himself up over some selfish bastard who had already done so much damage. Levi reached for him slowly. Jaime didn't stop him, and whe
n Levi took his hand and pulled, Jaime came to him willingly. He buried his face in Levi's chest and sobbed. Levi wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. "It's okay," he told him. "Whatever you're feeling right now, it's okay. You can hate him. You can be angry. It's okay to have all those feelings."

  "I don't want to forgive him!"

  "I don't blame you."

  "How can God forgive him?" Jaime asked through his tears. "How can I be the sinner? How can I be the one who's wrong?"

  "You're not," Levi said, rocking him a little, rubbing his back. "You're not." He thought about what he could say to make Jaime feel better. The only thing he had was his own faith. "I don't know how it all works, Jaime, but I'll tell you what I was taught. In my church, salvation comes from work and repentance, not from grace. You can't lead a life of sin up until the end and then suddenly be forgiven just because you see your judgment bearing down on you. Having regret isn't enough. You need to have true repentance and sorrow in your heart. And I could be wrong, but I don't think your uncle does. He's sorry now, only because he fears having to face God, but I think God will look into his heart and see he's still the same man he always was."

  "And what about me?"

  "I think right now God would look into your heart and he would see you're still the same scared little boy you were back then." Jaime cried harder, and Levi stroked his hair. "You won't always be. Even now, you're usually not."

  "You're saying I should forgive him, too," Jaime accused.

  "No. I'm saying God knows your heart. And I think he understands."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure," Levi said. Because he believed a God who would judge Jaime more harshly than the uncle who had abused him wouldn't have been much of a God at all.

  He held Jaime as he cried, until the tears wound down. He hated that Jaime's uncle had caused Jaime so much pain, but he couldn't deny how good it felt to be close to Jaime. Never before had Jaime's defenses been so low he'd allow Levi to hold him. Levi stroked his hair and his back, and sometimes kissed the red curls on top of his head. He felt Jaime's breathing start to slow.