“Midnight,” Everett reiterates and Grave shoots him a thumbs up, tossing an arm around my shoulders and guiding me away.
“I’ll even grab her shoe off the steps,” he declares without turning around.
We weave through the place, and if I thought people were looking at me before, it’s absolutely nothing compared to the gawking or pitying glances being tossed my way now. As opposed to how people were scrambling to cater to Everett, people avoid us like the plague. They aren’t worried about sucking up to Grave, they just want to stay the hell out of his way and off his radar.
Apparently used to it though, we walk straight up to the bar and he gestures for me to sit. Without reservation, he saunters behind the counter, browsing the shelves. “What sounds good?”
My brain blanks, used to just drinking straight from the bottle when I could get my hands on anything. “Surprise me?”
He turns to the bartender that’s caged back there with him, trying to remain invisible and failing. “Well, you heard the lady. Two surprises, hold the poison.” The man hesitates, flicking between us before landing on me with a silent plea.
“I like oranges, peaches, or strawberries if that helps?”
He nods frantically before hurrying to whip something together, passing us each a glass and holding his breath for judgment. Taking a sip, I perk up in my seat.
“Fuck, that’s delicious.”
The man closes his eyes in relief and Grave grabs a bottle of whiskey from the shelf, passing it to the bartender. “On the house, good sir. Keep up the good work.”
He returns from behind the bar and gestures for me to follow him. I rise to my feet and shoot a quick look at the bartender who mouths his thanks. Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I catch up with Grave, taking another sip of my drink.
“So what have you been up to this evening? You disappeared for hours.”
He turns to face me, cocking his head. “You noticed.”
Confused, I scrunch up my face. “Well, yeah. You were there and then you left? Kind of hard to miss.”
He takes a long drink. “Wanted you to enjoy your night. As you clearly saw, people are willing to lick the big guy’s asshole if it means staying on his good side.”
I smother a smile. “So you’re upset because no one is lining up to give you a rim job?”
Breathing a laugh, his grin matches mine. “Not saying Iwantone, I’m just saying it’d be nice if peopleofferedon occasion.”
We finish off our drinks laughing, not even playing any games, simply meandering around the place. And honestly? It makes my job ten times easier. Since everyone is trying to avoid Grave, the plain clothes guards that remain in their seats when we hover beside a machine for a few minutes rather than scattering all but give themselves away. They stay fixated on their machines as much as they can, shooting frequent glances from the corner of their eyes or blatantly eyeing him with caution.
“Now it just feels like I’m cheating.”
He chuckles beside me, leaning in close. “Told you we take care of each other, Elyse. But knowing how many guards are here is only half of the test, remember?”
I nod, a small smile on my face. “You all fill different roles and complement each other rather than fight over promotions. One to guard the door, one to rob the bank, and another to drive the getaway car. No role is more important than the other, and if you’re a man down, everyone’s at risk.”
Maverick’s angry barbs make more sense now, about needing to not be the weak link that someone needs to babysit. If I not only can’t do my job, but keep them from concentrating on theirs, then everybody suffers.
“We don’t rob banks.” He rolls his eyes, heading back towards the bar. “Seriously, how cliché; give us a little more credit than that, angel.”
As soon as the bartender sees him coming, he immediately starts making the same drink as before in anticipation. He slides them closer, forcing himself not to flee and see if there’s anything we need, eyeing Grave with blatant fear.
“Thank you so much. You didn’t need to go through all of this trouble, I know you have a line of customers; we could have waited.”
The man looks at me like I have three heads. “Not a problem, really. Anything else I can get you?” The last is directed at Grave who takes a seat beside me.
He spins in his seat to face me. “Privacy.”
In a matter of seconds, the few people near us are relocated to the farthest end of the bar, leaving the two of us relatively alone.
“Well no wonder people aren’t offering you sexual favors when you tell them to fuck off,” I point out, taking a sip of the fruity drink.
He reaches over to steal the little toothpick umbrella from my glass, impaling the top of his and spinning it from the bottom. “Aren’t you going to ask what part two of the test is?” he deflects and I roll with it.
