“I’m so sorry. It slipped out of my hand, Carl,” their waitress called out.
Realizing it was nothing, Ex settled down.
“That’s like the third plate today, Ruthie!”
Ex had been hoping they wouldn’t hear anything else from this asshole but lately luck hadn’t been on his side. The server yelled then the sound of a man growling followed by a hard slap against skin couldn’t be mistaken. Ex didn’t have to look across the table to know that their mood was broken, and their evening was over.
“Meridian. Let’s go,” Ex said.
They heard their waitress crying when the man busted through the double doors and yanked off his apron. He shook out his hand as he gave them both a sneering once-over and went towards the bathrooms.
Meridian stood and passed his cigarette to Ex. “Hold this for me, will ya.”
“Fuck,” Ex groaned and took it, knowing there was no way to stop what was about to happen.
Meridian was sliding on his leather gloves as he walked away, and a slight thrill worked its way up Ex’s back. Yeah, they really were operating rogue now. Ex pulled on the cigarette, drawing a small amount of smoke into his mouth before easing his lips off the gold filter—where Meridian’s lips had just been. He took another drag and rolled his eyes when a loud bang made its way to the front of the restaurant.
Their server came from the back, wiping her tear-streaked face with a dishtowel. “I’m so sorry about not getting you refills.”
As if that was what the big problem was. He wondered if her husband always beat her when they had customers or was he just being a bastard tonight. Didn’t matter. A sharp yelp and a long, muted moan made them both turn their heads towards the bathrooms.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, looking concerned. “Is your friend in there?”
Ex got up then went and stood in front of her at the counter, the cigarette resting loosely on his lips. “Non, chérie,” he said in a low tenor, trying to distract her from the continuous grunts and bangs they kept hearing.
“What?” She frowned.
Ex scoffed and dropped the charade. He sucked at the smooth shit. He pulled out his stack of bills again, and this time he flipped over five large ones. “Here you go, ma’am. Your husband’s a real motherfucker. Get a hotel room tonight if you want.”
Meridian came out of the bathroom, smoothing back a few strands of his black hair. He stopped inches from him and took his cigarette from between Ex’s lips and put it in his own mouth. His eyes shone like freshly mined coal and Ex could tell that Meridian had enjoyed what he’d just done immensely.
Ex took his coat from inside the booth and began to button it. “Before you decided to be spontaneous, Mere, did you bother to think that maybe I wanted dessert?”
Meridian glared at him for a second then turned abruptly and went to the counter where Ruthie stood staring in awe with the money still clutched tightly in her hand. “A slice of the lemon-raspberry cake to go,” Meridian gritted out.
Ruthie closed her mouth and bolted into action. She grabbed a large to-go container from beneath the counter and put the entire remaining half of the cake inside then shakily handed it to Meridian. “It’s on the house.”
Meridian took the box, his unemotional, calculated mask firmly back in place. He thrust the overflowing box at Ex’s chest and rumbled. “For you.”
Ex’s heart constricted in a good way.
“Come again. Anytime,” their waitress whispered just before they left.
Meridian couldn’t believe how his body was vibrating with adrenaline. He’d been in so many fights there was no way he could keep count but this one felt different. And he knew it was because there was no handler in his ear telling him what and who his target was. He’d chosen himself. And god it felt... felt—
“Dammit. Fuckin car,” Ex bit out when he made the turn onto their narrow street and the car stalled again. Ex jerked back and forth on the clutch, grinding metal on metal. Meridian slowly placed his hand over Ex’s where it gripped the stick, his forearm flexing as if he was about to yank it out. Meridian helped Ex guide the shift into neutral and kept his hand resting on his. Ex’s eyes were closed, and his head was bowed towards the steering wheel.
“Calm down, Ex,” Meridian said, getting close to his ear, waiting as his partner’s breathing began to even out. He reached for the ignition and told Ex what he needed him to do. “Press down on the clutch.”
Ex flexed his left thigh and Meridian was able to start the car on the third try. Each failed attempt was like a spear to his side. This car was something special to his partner, maybe even a piece of his little brother he was hoping wouldn’t die too.