14|Suit Up

After working through the night to catch up on three months' worth of reports, Levi was too tired to return to his place, so he passed out in his office.

He slipped into a long dreamless sleep for twelve hours straight. It would have been longer if Mark hadn't pitched up.

His partner let himself in and nudged him awake, his voice unnecessarily cheerful for the time of day, "Van Holt, wake up! Time to suit up!"

"God, no!" Levi groaned, pulling his Chassis hoodie over his head to block out Mark's voice.

"God, yes! We have a thing in two hours!" Mark held up a black and gold invitation card in one hand and a suit bag and shoebox in the other. He placed everything on the coffee table and drew the remote-controlled blinds, instantly flooding the room with sunlight.

"What thing?" Levi asked, narrowing his eyes to block out the glaring light as he sat up.

"The charity gala. Your father couldn't get a hold of you."

"Oh, shoot!" Levi reached for his phone on the coffee table. He remembered hearing it whine about the battery dying before he passed out. "What did he want?"

"Turns out he can't get away from the stuff with the freight truck accident. He's tied up with the lawyers and family members of the deceased. So you have to step in and do some ass-kissing," Mark explained, throwing him a patient smile.

"Do I have to be there? There's a build tonight, and I'd rather stay here for the patch deployment." Levi stared at the nearly empty whiskey bottle in wonder, certain he'd discovered the cure for his insomnia. It was the best sleep he'd had in a long time; he felt rejuvenated.

"I'm sure I don't need to explain this to you," Mark crossed his arms and gritted his teeth. "But since Colleen's not around and as the second in line to the throne, you must step in."

Barely paying attention, Levi took a long gulp, pretty pleased he'd found another use for the bitter liquid as he swooshed it around in his mouth. Who said he needed mouthwash when he had whiskey?

"Dude, did you hear anything I said?" Mark glared at him before turning to the bar. He rooted around and pulled out two bottles of still water. He threw one at Levi. "I'm your date tonight, bitch! So go freshen up. You have to make me look good."

There was no point in arguing. Levi had learned this early in their friendship. Sometimes it was easier to go along with him. The path of least resistance and all.

He grabbed the clothes and shoes, dragged himself to his ensuite bathroom, and spent a long time in the shower, thinking about Colleen and Seth.

He should have negotiated for a shorter timeline. A week was too long to wait for his Dreams profile.

A lot could change in a week.

He desperately missed his twin, more so today. Colleen knew how much he hated these galas, and she always stepped in and sheltered him from the pressure of being an heir to a fortune as large as Van Holt Industries.

"Leeny, where are you?" he screamed silently in his hands, hoping she could hear him somehow. He needed the telepathy thing to start working soon. He could not function for much longer.

No one would ever understand the strength it took him daily to go through the usual, meaningless motions. Months had gone by, but his life stopped the day his twin vanished. Time seemed to move at an excruciatingly slow pace, and the hours were a never-ending nightmare of floating between hope and hopelessness, fits of anger and extreme bouts of guilt.

Levi didn't realise he was crying until he tasted the salty tears on his lips.

"Tears are a weakness," he muttered as he furiously lathered shampoo in his hair. Leviticus had taught him this well from a very young age. Sometimes with words and other times with fists.

Maybe something was indeed broken inside him, which would explain why he couldn't reach his twin. Someone had to know how to fix him, Levi thought as he rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room when he returned to his office, clean-shaven and all dressed up.

"Here you go. Black and bitter like our souls and just the way you like it," Mark smirked as he passed him a cup of pitch-black coffee and sat on the sofa. "You need to sober up, fast!"

Levi looked at the mug and made a face. He would have preferred something stronger, but it would have gone against his partner's goal.

He sat at his desk and took a sip, appreciating the smell more than the taste. Mark still hadn't mastered the art of making good coffee at the ripe age of twenty-eight.

"Let's go over your father's plan. We can't fly in blind," Mark said, picking up a doughnut from a box Levi only noticed now. "Want some? I asked the receptionist to bring them up while you were washing up. The devs will need all the sugar they can get tonight."

Levi shook his head. He'd stick to the terrible coffee. His wobbly stomach couldn't handle all that sugar.

"So, Senior's target is Mr Rice. He owns a string of B&Bs all over the Blue Mountains and some coastal areas, and your father wants to jump into bed with him. You have to babysit and make sure he's happy. Whatever he wants, whatever his wife wants—" Mark launched into the evening's strategy.

"By 'jumping into bed', you mean he wants to buy the Rices out, right?" Levi clarified, doing his best to seem interested as he stared at his friend. Something about him was different, out of place. But no matter how long he looked at him, he couldn't figure it out, and he knew it would bother him until he did.

"Well, you know your father better than anyone—" Mark said, pausing when he noticed Levi wasn't paying much attention. He snapped his fingers to get him to focus. "Are you even listening to me, Van Holt?"

"Excuse me, waking up alert is not my superpower. But yeah, I get it. Gala. Mr Rice! Babysit him. Promise him the world. The usual bullshit."

He hated it all. That's why he'd decided to strike out on his own. But once or twice a year, his father strong-armed him into attending such events.

"Well, we can babysit his young wife, too, if that helps," Mark said with a chuckle.

Levi ignored his comment and sipped his coffee as he flicked his wrist to check the time. Getting to the hotel would take them just under fifteen minutes. They were still good for time.

"So I met the kid," he began. He didn't even know why he referred to Seth as a kid. He was at least twenty-four, maybe older.

"He's good, right? I told you he'd help. What did he find?"

Mark was as shocked as Levi had felt when he discovered Colleen's link to Dreams.

He pushed his coffee and doughnut aside and reached for the whiskey.

Levi glared at him; it was his last bottle. He'd have to take something else to help him sleep tonight.

"So there's a chance she's an escort?" Mark asked after some time as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Everything points to that," Levi said, resting his weight on the edge of his desk.

"Levi, listen to yourself. This is Colleen. Her jewellery studio alone is worth at least three million. What reason would she have to sign up as an escort? She doesn't need the money!" Mark said, shaking his head, refusing to entertain the notion that Colleen had a secret life.

"I don't know. But why would she visit the site so many times? Over a thousand in the months before she disappeared. Maybe it wasn't about the money? Maybe she was bored and wanted some excitement but got in too deep." Levi picked up his Iron Man figurine and examined it for scratches. It was a collector's item he'd paid a bundle for. He loved it almost as much as his car, if not more.

Pleased it still looked as good as when he first unboxed it five years ago, he placed it back and glanced at the files. There were at least four that needed his urgent attention. But the procrastinator in him was a little glad for the gala tonight. He now had the perfect excuse to put off making difficult decisions for at least another day.

"—Are you hearing yourself right now? That's insane. It's always about money. No one goes into this life unless they don't have any other options." Mark reasoned. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his face; the whiskey had warmed him up nice and good.

"But Colleen had lots of options. I was an option. You were! And if all else failed, Leviticus would have bailed her out. Lord knows he's spared no expense to find her. Look at the useless army of investigators he's put together!"

"Maybe she couldn't talk about it, and that's why she didn't come to us?"

"I would have helped her, no matter what. It doesn't matter what she was involved in; I would have gotten her out!" Levi whispered, hot tears glistening in his eyes.

He always came back to this.

It didn't matter where he was or what he was doing—in his penthouse, at the office, or thirty-seven-thousand feet in the air, he always came back to this feeling of overwhelming helplessness and guilt, of fear and worry, and he couldn't move past it.

No matter how much trouble she was in, he would give up everything to get her out because she was literally his other half.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's wait for Seth to come back with the profile, and then we can get proof." Mark suggested.

"What more proof do you need?"

Their exchange continued, both taking turns to play the devil's advocate. Unable to reach an agreement and the issue with Colleen left up in the air for the moment, they stood up, fixed their tuxedos and headed out.

It was time for some ass-kissing.