part0068

Savage scowled at the clothes he'd placed in the bags the hotel provided for guests who requested dry cleaning. He wished the people involved all the luck in the world, but he wondered if they wouldn’t simply throw the garments into an incinerator and eat the charges that came with him trying to get his clothes back.

He wouldn't blame them. The fact that he'd worn a rubber suit throughout the trip somehow hadn't helped with the smell. The only problem, of course, was that he'd worn his body armor underneath, and that couldn't be dry cleaned or scrubbed. While the fewer fibers would make the smell less pungent, it was still there.

From his fairly limited experience with the gear—and the hasty glance he’d had at the manual back at the warehouse—the armor was strictly wash by hand, which he had started to do in the shower. It smelled of cheap yet strong motel soap now, but time would tell if their adventures down under would have a lasting effect on it.

Thankfully, he'd brought spare clothes that didn't smell of toilet, which he quickly pulled on. Anderson needed time off, a fair amount of venting, and a little alcohol, and damned if he wouldn’t get it to him.

He stepped out of his room and moved to the one across from his, where he knocked three times on the door.

His boss opened it and narrowed his eyes when he saw him standing there. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I thought you might appreciate going out for the night, getting your drink on, and lightening up."

"I think I'd rather get some sleep."

"Come on, man." He fixed the man with a firm look. "It’s been a stressful few days. I say we get the fuck out of this depressing hotel and find someplace to have a quiet drink and something to eat. Nothing fancy but enough to kick back and relax a little. It’ll do us both good to do something halfway normal for once, and if we keep a low profile, it’ll be safe enough."

Anderson considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, I'm sold. I'm just...I need to get some clothes on."

"What were you—no, you know what, I don't want to know." He closed his eyes and shook his head vehemently.

"I was taking a shower, asshole," the man snapped. "Meet me downstairs in the car."

“Yeah, right. I’m your babysitter, remember? That means I sit until the baby’s ready.”

Anderson slid into their booth and set two beers on the table. "So you're telling me that you wouldn't be fit for combat in the Zoo? Is that it? How does that add up?"

"It's doubt, man," Savage replied and drew his beer over. "I'm not sure that if I stood up against one of those monsters, I'd be any good. And that doubt is enough for me to realize I might not have what it takes to be good enough in the Zoo."

"You took on that critter in the sewer well enough," he pointed out.

"It was reflex. I simply didn’t have time to think about it and had the gun out. When I have time to think about it, the doubt kills me. The point is, I like animals better than I like humans. That's why I'm so much better at killing people."

"You like me well enough, right?"

"There are always exceptions that prove the rule. I like Anja well enough too."

The ex-colonel chuckled softly. "So, is that the reason why you wanted to come out for a drink? To talk about your feelings?"

"Hey, you were the one who asked why she wanted me outside for a minute," he replied. "No, the drink is because...well, you seem like you've had a rough time lately, and I thought you might want to take some time to unwind."

He smirked and shifted into a comfortable slouch. "Don't think I don't appreciate it. And yeah, I do miss Ivy and Damon. I was getting used to being around them a lot more lately, but it's not like I don't enjoy what we're doing here."

"Well, the point is we both need to relax. Here's to unwinding." He raised his glass and clinked it softly against his companion’s. "That means no talking about the job, no reminiscing about any old days, or dreaming about times gone by. We drink and let the night play out. One night with nothing on the agenda, what do you say? People think you're having a vacation anyway, so you might as well enjoy it a little. As long as we don’t lose sight of why we’re out here ducking from all those idiots who want you dead, we should be golden."

"Yeah, whatever you say. Let's finish this beer and we'll see how it goes from here, what do you say? I didn't feel like getting all heavy with the emotions tonight anyway."

"That sounds suspiciously like a plan."

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying the drink and the quiet ambiance. Halfway through the mug, Anderson jumped a little before he pulled a vibrating phone out that displayed a blocked number.

"Should I answer it?" he asked. Savage had already finished his beer and his fingers tapped on the empty glass as he considered the question.

“Anja said she encrypted our lines, so it should be safe. Either way, keep the call short, eh?"

He nodded and pressed the accept call button. "Hello? Oh…hi, baby. It's so good to hear your voice again."

"Baby?" Savage mouthed.

"Ivy," Anderson spelled out silently.

"Speak of the devil," the operative said a little louder than he should have.

"Oh, yeah, that's Savage...what? No, we were talking about you and then you called, that's all," the man said quickly and defensively as he flipped his companion a middle finger and earned a broad grin

"Should I leave you two lovebirds alone?"

Anderson didn't answer verbally. He was clearly already deep in conversation with his wife, a clear enough indication for the other man to get lost. Savage grinned, picked his mug up, and bowed his head in playful surrender. He teased but he was happy that Anderson was talking to his family again. It made him feel all warm and gooey inside although he honestly didn't know why.

Sure, joke about it . That'll make all your own problems disappear.

He drifted to the bar to allow his boss to have his conversation without any more distractions. He needed another drink anyway. It had been a while since he'd got his drink on properly, but with his responsibility and the ever-present threat hanging over Anderson, he’d have to shelve his desire to simply break loose for another time.

In some respects, he was a bit of an alcoholic and was willing to admit it. He could function without it—and had if the past couple of weeks had been any indication—but that didn't mean he would turn the vice down when it came his way. He was sure it was a healthy attitude to have. As long as he didn’t let it interfere with what was really important, that was okay.

Savage reached the bar and placed the empty mug on the counter while he waited for the bartender. The man was talking to another patron—a woman in her late twenties by the look of it. He didn't want to stare, but the expensive jewelry around her neck and wrists didn't seem to match the jean skirt, flannel shirt, and Stetson she wore, although the richly tanned boots did.

His habitual scan of his surroundings soon revealed, based on the outfit, that she was a part of the bachelorette party that occupied most of the far side of the room. They weren't being too loud, but the night was still young and they weren't that deep in their cups yet. Besides, this seemed like it was only the starting point for the party. Strip clubs had to be on the agenda.

The tender finally realized he had other patrons waiting for him at the bar and tore himself away from the woman with a nod at Savage.

"A lager, thanks," he replied with a smile. The man nodded and pulled one of the mugs from the shelf behind him. He frowned a little as he watched the woman he'd been hitting on move down the bar toward Savage with interest in her eyes.

"Look, honey," she said, and her voice milked the Alabama accent. He honestly couldn't tell whether it was real or not. “I'll be honest with you. I'm thinking about breaking my one rule in a bar and buying you a drink, but it'll have to be a hell of a lot stronger than a lager."

He turned to look fully at her. She didn't look quite drunk enough to make him consider calling her a cab rather than accepting her offer. And he'd gotten involved with far less classy women over the past month or so. The least he could do was let her buy him that drink. It would be rude to refuse.

"Here's what I'm going to do," he replied as the bartender placed his drink on the counter and he paid the man for it. "I'm starting off light with a lager, to warm myself up. But if you're buying, you pick the juice, and we'll see if it makes us both happy."

She tilted her head and smirked before she turned to the bartender. "I'll have another Pina Colada, and if you could get this gentleman a..." She paused and made a show of studying him. "He'll have an Old Fashioned."

Old Fashioned was always a safe bet, he mused. It was good enough that nobody disliked it, and it wasn't fruity enough to make people turn their noses up.

She couldn't be the only one playing the game, though, he thought. "Oh...you're good," Savage said with a chuckle. She winked and leaned in close enough to whisper in his ear.

"You have no idea how good I am, sugar," she murmured softly, and he chuckled as her hand drifted across his chest to find the firm planes under his shirt.

"Savage," he whispered. “You can call me Savage.”

“I’ll bet I can. And you can call me Caroline.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Caroline.” He caught her hand as it trailed suspiciously low on his torso.

“Hey, Bea, come over. We need to toast,” one of the women at the party called, and “Caroline” turned to scowl at her friends.

“I’ll be waiting right here…Caroline.” Savage winked and took a sip of his beer.

“Ma’am?” the bartender asked as she moved away from the bar.

“Put them on the tab,” she called over her shoulder and jogged to where a toast actually meant a line of shots.

On the tab, he thought. She was buying him drinks and putting them on her party’s tab. He had to admire that kind of thriftiness.

The tender eyed him, almost as if to make sure that he didn’t actually drink until she returned. There was an odd kind of loyalty between bartenders and their patrons, and he had to respect that. He raised his beer to the man before he took a nice long draught.

“Hey there, honey!” a woman said a moment before she slapped him on the shoulder. He almost dropped his beer and coughed discreetly when a little went down the wrong pipe.

“Honey?” he asked. A short, perky redhead sporting all the right kinds of curves grinned cheerfully. “Isn’t that a little familiar?”

“I plan on getting all kinds of familiar with you, big guy.” She tilted her head to study him with avid interest. “Do you feel like buying me a drink?”

Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure what the situation called for. Caroline had bought him a drink, and it seemed like he needed to be loyal to that. Then again, he’d always been partial to redheads.

“Stick around, dear,” he replied and smiled at her. “And I might.”

“If that isn’t all kinds of mysterious.” She inched forward to swing up on a barstool, but her eyes flickered, and her gaze settled somewhere over his shoulder.

“Find your own man, you little skank,” Caroline screamed as she shoved him out of the way and dragged the redhead off the barstool to toss her to the ground. She used her boots to hammer a kick into the other woman’s stomach and dropped to deliver a punch but Savage interceded.

It irritated him that he had to intervene. Caroline looked like she was about to beat the redhead senseless, and he couldn’t have that happen, not over him. He grabbed her by the wrists and hauled her off the prostrate woman.

“Let me go, asshole,” she yelled and tried to shake him off. She was unsuccessful and he managed to step between the two.

“Throw another punch, and you will regret it,” he snapped and pushed her back into the bar when she tried to swing at him after he released her. He turned to glance at the other woman. Except for a low groan, she looked like she would be fine.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Just keep that crazy psycho bitch away from me,” the redhead replied and took his hand to help her up.

“That’s probably a good idea.” He smiled apologetically before he returned his attention to Caroline, who had recovered and now tried to attack the redhead again.

“You get the fuck back,” Savage snapped and pointed a finger at the woman. It was usually an effective trick. People respected the finger-pointing. It was a show of dominance without actually showing any dominance.

“Or what, big guy?” she snarled in response as she backed away from his finger. She regained her courage quickly. “Men like you are all so full of shit. You posture and get all manly, but when it comes time to actually do something, you wuss out. I wish that once—just once—a man would treat me like he would any other man.”

And that taunt marked his all-out-of-patience level. He stepped in and saw the shock on her face a second before his fist collided with it. The mostly harmless punch to the jaw wouldn’t leave that much of a bruise, but she fell back with a soft grunt and crumpled.

“Wish granted,” he stated softly. Most of the patrons had fallen silent and the entire crowd seemed to have witnessed what had happened. There didn’t seem to be too many disapproving glances since most people present knew she was a bitch, even those in her party. They were simply surprised that he had actually acted on it.

Savage didn’t feel like confronting them about it. He was all for equality, and if a man had challenged him like that, he would have done precisely the same thing.

That said, he didn’t much want a drink anymore. He wanted to punch something and keep on punching until it couldn’t punch back. It nagged like an itch in the back of his mind that had started when he’d punched Caroline and wouldn’t stop until he let it out.

Maybe time at the gym would resolve it. Their motel didn’t have one, but there had to be someplace open in the area where he could punch something. He rolled his shoulders in an effort to ease the rising tension and resisted the urge to wait for her to come to.

Anderson was still on the phone and didn’t seem to have noticed anything, too engaged with talking with Ivy. He didn’t want to interrupt and made his way quietly outside for some fresh air.