Of course, Kasia makes me regret this choice immediately, because she pours me an IPA—why do they even have this? Who the fuck drinks this by choice, it tastes like beer soup—and a shot of sambuca.
It’s fine. I probably deserve this.
Even if there’s no way they keepwellsambuca on hand and this is just her fucking with me for fun. I take half the shot, try not to grimace too much and fail, based on her bemused expression, and chase it with the beer soup.
“Another?” she asks.
“I’m good for now. Thank you for your hospitality.”
There’s a split-second where I think the Funyuns weren’t enough and my stomach lurches, but a couple deep breaths suppress the issue and I go back to my beer.
Fuck it. I just pour the rest of the sambuca in the IPA. It can’t make it any worse.
“Make sure your appreciation is reflected in your tip,” she says, before walking away to serve someone else.
I already over-tip her, because I’m a little afraid of what she’d do if I didn’t. Just like everyone else in here, I assume.
The drink I’ve made is disgusting, but it’s strong, at least, so it goes down smoother than I’d feared. By the time I’m finishing the glass, my head is pleasantly swimmy and I’m feeling the tug of sleepiness again. Maybe this was enough. A little space was all I needed. Maybe I should go home and go back to bed.
Or maybe if I wait until it’s late enough, Silas will be asleep and I can just sneak in, putting off any potential conversation until the morning.
Yeah, I’ll shower, crawl into bed and then snuggle the shit out of him in his sleep. I think we both need that right now. Less talking, more human blanket.
There’s a dark, discomfiting feeling shrouding me all of a sudden, and my sleep-deprived brain takes longer than it should to realize Sav is standing in front of me now. Not saying anything, just standing in Kasia’s section, looking down at me like some kind of stone guardian in a fantasy movie.
When I look up, he stares me down, and it’s just as uncomfortable as I imagined. I honestly don’t get how he and Micah work, and I feel like their sex life is probably terrifying. I don’t know why I think that, just vibes.
“No buddies, today?” he asks in a neutral tone.
Is he getting at something? Or is this because the last time I was in here I started a huge fight and got the cops called?
“Uh, no. Why?”
Sav shakes his head and crosses his arms, and I get the feeling this is done specifically to intimidate me. Well, his biceps are huge and he’s covered in tattoos that are definitely gang shit, so yeah.
Consider me suitably intimidated.
I came out here to get away from feeling judged, and instead I’m being stared down by the pit bull of Possum Hollow. It’s causing a creeping unease in my gut that feels too close to what guilt feels like, and I don’t fucking care for it.
In fact, that feeling combines with the liquor enough to make me surly.
“Do you have something to say, Sav? Or can a man not have a fucking drink in peace?”
I think I sound tough when I say it. He arches an eyebrow at me in an echo of the way Kasia did a minute ago, not saying anything, and it pisses me the fuck off. Why does everybody keep looking at me like they’re seeing something I don’t know?
Sav finally speaks after an awkward silence, his voice a quiet rumble across the bar.
“Make sure it stays peaceful. This is Gunnar’s place, and he doesn’t deserve you tearing it up. He’s put up with enough from this town.”
I don’t know what he’s specifically talking about. Well, I can guess. I’ve been called here on the job to some less than savory situations, more than one of which involved Tobias and all the shit he never deserved. But still, it’s nice to know I make one goddamn mistake and everybody writes me off as a problem.
“No drama from me. Can I get a beer?” I was ready to pack up shop before, but now he’s irritated me and I need to calm down again before I go home to Silas. “And not whatever the fuck Kasia gave me. A normal beer. Please.”
“Coming right up.”
He pulls a glass off a stack and brings it to the tap. The entire time the glass is filling it up, he stares at me. His face is carefully neutral, and I’m used to being around Silas who has absolutely no internal gauge for what is an appropriate amount of eye contact. That doesn’t bother me, because it’s just how he is.
This feels pointed and deliberate. It’s also possibly the most Sav and I have ever interacted. I don’t know what he’s trying to accomplish here, but it’s clearly something.
