A Leap in the Dark (The Assassins of Youth MC Book 2)(2)
Dingo dared to shoot me a glare. “He has built an empire and saved many Lost Boys from the streets.”
Levon held up his hands. “It’s all right, Dingo. I don’t expect everyone—or even anyone—to understand. I should know a fellow Lost Boy would commiserate, but to expect outsiders to get it is too much to ask.”
Mahalia said, “We’re just here to examine those of your men who wish to come with us and make a new start down in Avalanche.”
Levon chuckled with derision. He was literally looking down his nose at my sister. “It’s a free country, and I’ve given them your message. I doubt you’ll have a single taker, though. My men are loyal to me because they’re well cared for and have a lifestyle they can’t get anywhere else.”
I butted in. “Yes, because you’ve sold their souls to the devil way worse than the elders who booted you out of Cornucopia!”
Levon folded his arms and faced me squarely. “Miss, I was told I was damned. Why not revel in my damnation? Expecting outsiders to understand is like asking a bird what it’s like to fly. ‘What is flying?’ a bird would answer. He just does it because it’s in his nature, not knowing the sky from the ocean or the fields. You can judge me all you like, if it’ll make you feel superior and smug. But only when you leave your deluded beliefs behind will you see me and my men without smoke, without veils. You wouldn’t torch someone for witchcraft, would you?”
“Of course no—”
“People who did labored under erroneous assumptions. Navigators were panic-stricken, thinking they’d sail over the edge of a flat world. Throwing Japanese nationals into prison camps, even prejudice against homosexuality—these are all outmoded belief frameworks that have crumbled and burned.”
I narrowed my eyes and folded my arms, too. “Running a male brothel is hardly the same thing as some poor nationals herded into camps. You’re saying if only I would change the color lens I’m seeing you through, I’d come to embrace your empire.”
He nodded. Now who was smug? “I’m not saying I’m running the Brady Bunch house here. But I’m saying my team of men is strong, and Liberty Temple gives them a potent sense of identity. You get out of love what you put into it.”
Now he was talking about love? How dare he? “These men who come here to prey on your boys are only interested in one sort of perverted ‘love.’”
“I mean the love we have for each other. We love each other because of what we’ve put into this—what it would mean to leave, to go back to the streets. We argue and bitch and sometimes even punch each other’s lights out, but we’re forced to make up because of our connection that rises above any sort of free will or choice. This is how families operate. We love each other because we know we can’t just storm off at any moment.”
“It sounds like my old man’s motorcycle club,” said Mahalia with wonder.
I stamped my foot impatiently. “So you’re saying it’s like a jail? You hold the threat of the streets over their heads to keep them here, to keep skimming a percentage off all their hard work.”
Dingo looked shocked. “Levon works hard, too!” he cried, perhaps not knowing what he was saying.
I snorted. “Yeah. I’ll bet he works hard.”
Levon closed his eyes patiently. “The men can leave any time, miss.”
Dingo said, “Her name is Oaklyn Warrior. She’s Mahalia’s sister and the nurse who’s here to examine the boys.”
It was as though Levon hadn’t heard him. “We are forced to love each other because we’re all we’ve got. Your mistaken assumptions aren’t going to stop us from learning and growing. They’re just going to lead you astray and distort the questions you ask. Warped beliefs led sincere doctors to bleed millions of people to death. I’m sure you remember the four humors in your nurse’s studies.”
I sniffed. “Of course. Hippocrates believed certain illnesses were caused by an imbalance in body fluids—blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm.”
Dingo chuckled. “Sounds like some superhero world. The Four Humors are coming to get you.”
No one else laughed. Levon tried to hypnotize me into submission with his intensely sharp eyes. “No one thought to look for disease in germs or water because the four f*cking humors were in control of everything. Do you get me?”
I sneered. “You’re saying your house of ill repute is holy and sanctified because you men are like brothers. It’s a feeble and misguided argument to make, and you’re not swaying me. I’ll examine your men for venereal diseases and general health free of charge, as a courtesy to my sister. If they’d rather stay and sell their bodies to twisted old men, there’s nothing I can do to convince them.”
“They make good money,” said Levon, digging his hands deep into his jeans pockets. I was surprised there was room for his hands, that’s how tight the pants were. Left nothing to the imagination. “What sort of jobs do you offer down in Avalanche? Minimum wage? My men earn upward of ninety, one-twenty grand a year. Some of the best, myself included, make more than that.”
I sort of cringed a little at that, looking to Mahalia for support. I hadn’t been down to their little burg of Avalanche in southwest Utah yet, but it was highly unlikely they could offer anything as lucrative. Mahalia’s “old man” Gideon worked in a mine. Sure, he owned it, but he still toiled tirelessly.