“Want to dance?” Vincent asked her quietly, after nearly an hour of sitting, drinking, and chatting.
“Sure,” she agreed. Jasper let them out and slid into the corner of the booth. Vincent took her hand and led her to the middle of the room.
Other older country couples were also dancing, but it all felt weird to Sawyer. This wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t much of a dancer. She appreciated being asked, though. Like Jasper’s date and holding the doors open, this being asked to dance in a dingy little country bar felt normal.
Vincent kept it easy on her, just hands on waists and shoulders, spinning in a slow circle. She knew he could probably waltz like his brother, or any other ballroom dance, but he didn’t get her to do one. For that, she was thankful.
“I really do love your hair long and down,” he whispered in her ear.
“I like my hair,” Sawyer admitted. “It just gets hot and hard to deal with.”
“If you cut it, I promise I won’t hate you for it,” Vincent teased.
“If you tried to hate me, you would be sexless before the end of the day,” she threatened in a light, joking tone. She meant every single word of it though.
“I believe it,” Vincent mumbled. “Your body. Do as you please with it, of course.”
“I’m glad we have an understanding,” Sawyer said politely, as if a deal had been struck.
They finished the song and Vincent took the middle seat of the booth, letting Sawyer be on the outside so she could stretch her legs out. She ordered a second Jack and Coke and finished it before jumping into the conversation at the table. “What do I need to watch out for in New York?” she asked, looking down at Elijah and then turning her eyes on Vincent.
“They know who you are, what you’ve done, and why,” Vincent whispered, his voice low to retain any amount of privacy. “Remember we recorded you after leaving the hospital?”
“They’ve all seen it?” Sawyer asked, her eyebrows nearly coming off her forehead. She remembered them setting up the camera, remembered that she forgot about it the moment she started talking.
“No,” Elijah cut in. “All of the Council, yes. All of the top ranking IMPO officials, yes. The tape, at the very least. But other teams know your name versus your old alias and title. They don’t know any of the personal details from the…video. Just in case.”
“Just in case I go rogue.” Sawyer looked down at her empty glass. Her stomach turned at the thought. She’d already known that people knew about her, at least privately, in the organization. She was about to meet those people. People who didn’t know her but knew of her. “I’ll have another one of these. We might need a third DD that isn’t me.”
“I will,” Elijah told her kindly, pushing his drink away. Zander took it. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“I’m considering it,” she muttered. She got up. “I’m going to the bathroom, then the bar for another drink.”
“We’ll be here,” Jasper called after her as she walked away.
Sawyer got to the bathroom and went to the sink. She splashed her face with cold water and stared at herself in the mirror. So far, she’d only been around people who knew her, who’d witnessed her and Axel’s absolute hate for each other, who’d seen her own confession. She’d stayed away from the lower ranking IMPO agents in Texas, just because she hadn’t wanted a problem. She hadn’t realized just how much and how many people knew about her. So many. So many who had never even seen her, but were probably already judging her.
She left the bathroom, heading straight for the bartender.
“Whiskey, whatever you got,” she told him. He just nodded back to her. She missed her bartender back in New York for a moment.
When the drink slid in front of her, she sipped on it before turning to look at her team back in the booth. They were talking quietly, except Quinn, who stayed very silent, just holding a glass of water. Elijah must have said something, because laughter started to ring out from the table. She smiled at the scene.
Beautifully normal.
She finished the whiskey and left the glass on the bar. She had to pass through a few tables to get to the booth, and she weaved through them easily.
Until a hand took a solid squeeze on her ass.
At that exact moment, Vincent looked over to her. His eyebrows climbed up his forehead as she felt her temper flare.
Sawyer turned slowly to the offending hand: a young man, probably a local farmhand by the look of him. He was grinning, looking innocent.
“Don’t do that, okay?” she warned.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, and a few of his friends laughed. There were four of them total.
She shrugged, realizing that it would be too much effort to push the issue. She wasn’t there to get into a fight, so she turned back to her guys and began to walk away.
“Yeah, hot stuff, walk away.”
Sawyer took a deep breath. Trouble followed her everywhere, it seemed. An easy night out at the bar on a Friday. That was all she wanted.
“Everything okay?” Vincent asked her as she sat next to him.
“Yup,” she answered. “No biggie. Farm boy got handsy and I’ve decided I really don’t care tonight.”
“Okay.” Elijah raised his glass of water. “We’ll leave it alone.”
The only person at the table she was worried about doing anything was the one pinned on the inside and looking a little drunker than everyone else. Zander was glaring at the table like he was going to set it on fire. Sawyer was thankful that his abilities were telepathy, healing, shields, and water control. All pretty passive.
“Fuck that,” Zander mumbled.
“What the fuck?” one of the guys roared. “How the fuck did that happen?”
Sawyer spun her head to the table and saw their drinks were tipped over, all of them. Because every drink in the room had some water in it, Zander was able to cause trouble. The laps of the farm boys were drenched, their shirts stained with beer.
“What the hell, Zander?” she hissed over to him. “I said fucking leave it. Guys get handsy. I wasn’t in the mood for some shit.”
“Just fucking with them,” he replied, a grin overtaking his face.
“Which one of you did that?” one of the young men demanded, looking in their direction. “Fucking Magi.”
“Forget about it,” Elijah warned. “You got your little grope in, we spilled your drinks. It’ll teach you not to feel ladies up without their permission, little twat.”
“Why don’t you come out here and fucking say that to my face?”
“I did,” Elijah answered. He was holding back a chuckle.
Sawyer rolled her eyes and turned to glare at Zander, like nearly everyone else at the table.
“Are you fucking serious?” Sawyer asked him.
“Jesus, man. Our first night bringing her here and you’re trying to get us in a fight,” Jasper accused.
“You also just got us cut off. You know the rules. No magic,” Vincent reminded them.
“I’m going to kill you,” Sawyer promised Zander in an emotionless tone.
“They deserved it,” he said, without a single bit of regret in his voice. “It was a harmless lesson to keep their hands to themselves.”
“You all just going to ignore me?” the farm boy demanded.
Sawyer looked back over to him. “Yes. You don’t want this fight.” She gave him the same emotionless tone she’d given Zander. She and the team would wipe the floors with the young country boys. It wouldn’t even be hard.
“We can fucking take you,” he postured.
“No.” She was laughing at that. “You really can’t. Magic or no magic.”
“We’ll go,” Vincent announced. “No trouble. It’s done and we’re leaving.”
Sawyer stood up and let Vincent and Jasper out.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” another farm boy called out.
The one who had groped her shoved Vincent.
&
nbsp; That was the last straw. No one touched her guys. No one. Without a second thought, she slugged him and sent him to the floor, out cold.
“Well,” Elijah drawled out, looking down at the farm boy. He looked back up, a grin on his face. “I guess we’re fighting.”
“What the fuck, you cunt?” one of the buddies roared and swung for her. She blocked as Zander and Quinn both jumped out of the booth behind Elijah. Jasper grabbed one before he could get his friend from Sawyer’s grasp. She had the one who swung at her by the shirt and flung on the table. She brought a fist down and knocked the boy out before he could even think to stop her.
It was over in seconds. The team stood around in the middle of a ring of young men, all on the floor. Sawyer took a quick moment to make sure none of them were seriously injured. She didn’t hear any screaming from the ones that were still conscious, so she figured no broken bones.
“Get out before I call the cops,” the bartender yelled. Sawyer thought it was a heaping helping of silly since they were cops, technically. “Now! And don’t fucking come back. I’m done with the trouble you all bring.”
“They fucking started it,” Zander yelled back.
“I don’t care,” the bartender snapped. “They’ll be banned, too.”
“Yup,” Sawyer declared. “I’m going to kill you, Zander.” She stormed out, her temper gnawing at her. She had told him not to fucking do anything. To let it lie. So a guy groped her ass in a bar. Who fucking cared? Shit like that happened and they needed to be on a plane tomorrow. Zander didn’t need to go and start some shit.
“Sawyer!” He ran after her. She didn’t turn back to him as she unlocked her car and began to open the door. Zander pushed it back closed. “Sawyer, he’ll let us come back in a couple of months and this will be forgotten. It’s nothing to get pissed over.”
“You know what?” Sawyer snapped, looking up at him. “Get in the car. We’re going to have a fucking talk, Zander Wade.” She pushed him off her door and watched him go to the other side.
“You got him? Good to drive?” Vincent asked loudly as he walked to his Range Rover.
“I got him,” Sawyer growled. She got in her car and tore out of the parking lot before Zander even had a chance to put his seat belt on.
“We got kicked out of the bar - where the hell is anger coming from?” he demanded.
“I told you not to do anything!” she roared. “I didn’t want the fucking drama tonight, Zander. You couldn’t keep your fucking shit in line, and decided to do whatever you fucking want, like you always fucking do.”
“I fucked with them a little, big fucking deal,” he argued. “Vincent isn’t going to reprimand me for it. Neither will Elijah. This shit ain’t a big deal. It’s not the first fight we’ve gotten into at a bar and it won’t be the last. You even threw the first punch!”
“The fight isn’t the fucking problem,” she snarled. She was holding the steering wheel hard enough to make her knuckles pale, nearly white. She ground her teeth in frustration.
“Then what is?”
“That I asked for you to drop it!” Sawyer screamed. “I don’t need you fighting for my fucking honor, Zander. I don’t need you to get possessive and fucking weird over someone touching my ass in a bar. They were a bunch of young and drunk guys. I have an ass. It was going to get groped. That’s fucking life. I decided it wasn’t fucking worth any trouble and you fucking ignored me.”
“Really?” he huffed. “You don’t need someone fighting for you? You would let those fucks get away with disrespecting you? Well, you might, but I sure as fuck won’t.”
“Then we’re going have some fucking problems,” she snapped. On another night, in a different life, she would have done something. She would have nearly broken the hand that touched her without her express permission. She hadn’t wanted any of that tonight. She had wanted normal. To just sit with her friends and her lovers and just have a drink. Zander had decided to throw that away and they were going home early. “I want to keep my fucking head down and if you can’t comprehend that then we aren’t going to fucking work.”
“Jesus fuck, you are hard to like,” Zander retorted. “Your way or the fucking highway. I get it. Whatever. You want everyone to step in fucking line with your wants and needs, whatever. I’m not some fucking lap dog for you, though. I’m not going to just take your goddamn orders and hope you aren’t pissed off by something I do. I’m not going to take this shit. If everything I do pisses you off, then I guess this isn’t going to work.”
They finished the drive home in silence. She sat in the car as Zander got out the moment she parked in the garage. She heard the door to the house slam shut.
Lap dog.
Follow orders.
Hope not to piss your master off.
Sawyer jumped out of the car, her mind reeling. She walked into the house, her temper still riding her, but she didn’t go up to her room. She stomped into Zander’s room, having heard the door slam to that as well.
“I don’t expect you to follow orders,” she angrily spat out. It made her sound like fucking Axel. That was her life with Axel. Follow orders and pray to whatever gods she could remember that he wasn’t in a bad mood and looking for a fight. “I expect you to fucking listen to me a little, though.”
“Whatever, Sawyer,” he mumbled, pulling his shirt off. His back was to her and she glared at the back piece he had. A dragon, angry and fiery, destructive and dangerous. Like him. For all his passive magic, his personality was the dragon on his back, not the sweet, warm healing he could do. “I get it. You need control. Vincent does whatever you say. Jasper does whatever you say. I won’t.”
“It’s not about control!” Sawyer roared. “It’s about respect!”
“Respect?” Zander snapped, turning to her. “You think I don’t respect you?”
“You damn sure don’t act like it,” she retorted.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.” He looked a little dumbfounded. “Sawyer, I respect the hell out of you. It’s why I won’t let some trash country boy think he can feel you up and get away with it.”
“That’s not…” she growled, trying to find what he thought was respectful about taking a piece of petty revenge she hadn’t wanted.
“Then what?” he asked softly, stalking over to her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wanted that shit because it offended you,” Sawyer answered. “Not because you care about me. I would have appreciated you just letting it drop.”
“Why can’t you be any other fucking woman?” Zander was looking pissed off again. “Any other woman would have been happy that someone was going to stand up for her.”
“I don’t need you to stand up for me,” she reminded him.
“What if it’s the only way I can show I fucking care?” he demanded. “Because I’m not Jasper. I don’t do little cute dates. Sawyer, I did this for you as kids, remember? We used to fight together.”
“Times change,” she bit out. They were fighters, her and Zander, they always had been. She was tired of fighting. Him. The world. Her past. She was so fucking tired of it. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sawyer,” he called after as she walked out. “Sawyer, don’t run from me.”
“I’m not running,” she replied. “I’m ending this idiotic argument.”
“Then end it by fucking listening to me,” he argued.
“Then don’t fucking start it by listening to me.” She turned back around to him. She was going to leave, but he’d gone and opened his mouth again. “One simple thing was all I wanted tonight. Normal. Drinks with everyone. A moment out of the house and something nice before we go to New York, where I have to meet a ton of people who are going to think I belong in a cell, not on a team. I specifically said to drop it. You didn’t.”
“I don’t have it in me to watch someone do that to you.”
“You’ve done it to me!” Sawyer declared, waving her arms around like ‘what the
fuck?’ and just feeling astounded by the hypocrisy.
“You didn’t like it and I haven’t done it since,” Zander retorted. “Remember? We fought, we fucked. I realized you didn’t like getting your ass groped and slapped. Haven’t done it since.”
She was even more angry that he had a point. He’d changed his behavior for her. Didn’t treat her like a piece of meat he could touch however or whenever he wanted.
“I also stopped asking about the fucking nightmares,” Zander continued. “Sawyer, let me tell you how pissed I am that you yelled at me - your boyfriend, your childhood friend - for touching your ass, but you were willing to let it go with a fucking stranger who probably thought you were a whore he could pick up.” He took a deep breath.
Sawyer closed her eyes. God, he was right. She hated when he was fucking right.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For not understanding how that would make you feel.”
“And I’m sorry for picking a fight you didn’t want. It’s going to happen again, though. I won’t let people treat you however they fucking want. I won’t let you think it’s okay to be treated like that just because you don’t want trouble. Why? Because I fucking love you.”
“Do you mean it?” she asked.
“After,” he answered.
She would have laughed. She was still angry at him, but that was their code that this argument was over. She ran a hand through his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. The argument would continue…after. Tomorrow. Next week. The next time one of them pissed the other off.
The Redemption Saga Box Set Page 71