“Only if it teaches you to elevate yourself above it.”
He pointed at the ground. “And we have, Miss Warrior. We have. You might see us as a house full of deviant perverts.”
“Not at all. I see a house run by one deviant pervert who is taking advantage of all the others. Their innocence, their desperation, their naivety.”
“They know exactly what they’re doing, Miss. They may look like sorry little boys to your jaded older woman’s eyes. But no one is handcuffing them to a chair here.” He chuckled. “Unless it’s one of the clients.”
Jaded older woman, my butt! I was hardly a year older than Levon himself! Snapping my bag shut with a grand flourish, I walked stiffly to the door. “This is my sister’s charity, Mr. Rockwell. As such, I’ll offer my pro bono services any time she calls me. But I sincerely hope we’ve come to the end of this pointless chat.”
Another citizen of Liberty Temple was heading into the study as I headed out.
“Levon, your timer just went off,” the young man said.
Timer? For what? As much as I hated the proprietor of the establishment, I was curious about him. I would grant him that. He raised my ire and my curiosity and he was certainly easy on the eyes.
Mahalia was out back on the patio chatting with Dingo and another young man, so I meandered around. My nose led me to the kitchen, where I peeked around a corner. Levon had on two of those big kitchen mitts and was taking an enormous roasting pan from the oven while a couple of other men stood around with hungry, shining eyes.
My stomach actually growled as little tendrils of sweet and savory meat wafted into my nostrils. When Levon lifted the lid, I nearly fainted at the heavenly aroma.
“Can we put the potatoes in now?” asked one guy.
“Yeah,” said Levon. “You got ’em peeled?”
I must have swooned or something, but somehow I caught Levon’s eye. His look was smug, superior, having seen me drooling over his roast. “You’re welcome to join us,” he called over to me.
I was mortified. “Oh! No, thank you,” I tried to say graciously. As if I didn’t want to dive face first into his roasting pan. I forced myself away from the kitchen and went to find Mahalia. Maybe I could convince her to stop at a decent place for dinner on our way back to Avalanche.
So that was how I met Levon.
I continued loathing him for a while to come. He represented everything wicked and destructive that the nurse in me despised.
CHAPTER TWO
LEVON
The day I met that nurse Oaklyn Warrior is etched forever in my memory banks.
Normally, I let criticism roll off me like water off a duck’s back. It’s part and parcel of the wheelhouse I move in, basically running a whorehouse. Oh, you’re contributing to the delinquency of adults. Oh, you take kids from the streets and put them back on the streets. Oh, you’re a scumsucking assmuncher.
None of it bothered me because I knew at my core I was doing more good than harm. To gain this insight, I had to let go of the old framework of beliefs that was holding me prisoner. I rolled in the mud for a couple of years after being booted from Cornucopia. Knowing I was a tool of the devil like they told me, I acted the part. I had a gun and robbed people. I squatted in a crumbling house with other thieves and drug addicts. I sold my body in filthy alleys. My quest to find a shred of faith became all about the quest, with very little faith. The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven was not given to me.
The day I realized I, and only I, could take the reins of my existence, I shattered into a million pieces. My soul was suddenly crystal clear. God wasn’t going to help me. I needed to help myself. I felt no self-pity. There were many Lost Boys who had it way worse than me.
I’m still putting the pieces back together again, but I have no guilt in my soul.