Her Rogue Russian(12)

 

It was the day after Paint and Pints, and his head was pounding. He wasn't a beer drinker usually, as his brother Vlad's vodka cabinet could well attest to, and he disliked the muzzy feeling he had woken up with that morning.

 

Nothing compared to the blue balls Agent Casillero left me with. After a kiss like that, the woman's rejection of him was something Maxim had never been: pure criminal.

 

"I'm serious, Karev." Travis crossed to the bench to dial the radio down and grab his water. "You want time off to get to know Savannah better, all you have to do is ask."

 

It occurred to Maxim that he might have to take Travis up on the offer once his mission with Savannah began in earnest, but until then he was sticking by his family at Slick Cycles. "It's just a fling."

 

"Doesn't seem like 'just a fling.'" Travis drained the bottle and set it aside, before sliding open a box of toothpicks and helping himself to one. Travis smoked cigarettes usually, but never while he was in the shop. "You already seeing the end of the road with this chick?"

 

"I give it three months, tops," Maxim stated matter-of-factly. Then, because he was feeling generous despite the hangover, "She'll break it off with me. Just you watch."

 

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, pal. Not this time."

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

"Yeah? What makes you say that?" he asked, careful to let his disinterest in the matter show as he bent down to hunt through his toolbox.

 

"Just a feeling I have," Travis said. "Also, Savannah's a total smoke show. Even if you don't like her for her killer personality, do every man in your vicinity a favor and stick it out a while longer."

 

"You circling for my sloppy seconds again?" Maxim asked in bemusement.

 

"I know you," Travis stated. "I know exactly how you're going to fuck this thing up for yourself. Don't put work obligations before a potential relationship with this woman or else you're going to miss out on a good thing."

 

Travis knew him, but he didn't know everything about him. Loyalty and obligation were the two major qualities instilled in Maxim since birth, but they extended to every aspect of his life. A serious relationship with a woman was just as much an obligation to him as family or work, and it wasn't something he needed right now-not when his father's killer was still out there, and he was a prime suspect in the murder.

 

"Hell, this could be a great thing," Travis continued. "Becky already loves her; she can't stop talking about her. 'Savannah this' and 'Savannah that.' 'Do you think she would eat a batch of cookies I baked for her with a body like that?' Do you think we call her Anna for short?'"

 

"Yeah? She circling for my sloppy seconds, too?"

 

"You wish," Rebecca interrupted as she clicked her way into the room. "As far as I'm concerned, she's already saddled with mine. Maxim, your guy at the tattoo parlor is on line one."

 

"Getting new ink?" Travis asked curiously as Maxim rose.

 

"Not me," he said. He left them alone together to imagine what that might mean as he strode from the room to take the call.

 

 

 

"Okay. So, I did the independent research, and I'm convinced that this really is a thing," Savannah said when Maxim met her that evening outside the tattoo parlor. The sky above them was pitch black, the night's mantle deepened by the blazing neon sign roosted above their heads. Needles to Say, the sign read. That had gotten a laugh out of Savannah, but something about the woman's cocked hip and crossed arms made Maxim wonder how much laughter he could look forward to hearing that night. Was the fearless agent nervous about what they were about to do?

 

"I mean, you wouldn't steer me wrong here, would you, Karev?" she asked him.

 

"All girlfriends of the mob have a tattoo that marks their affiliation with the brotherhood," he asserted. " You want to be taken seriously when we're undercover, then this is where we start."  

 

"So let's start already," Savannah said, surprising him by mounting the steps first and pushing the door open. Maxim crooked an eyebrow and followed behind the fiery agent at a much more leisurely pace.

 

"Ah, Maxim!" A heavily-inked man with a thick Russian accent to match came out from behind the counter and clapped Maxim on the back boisterously. He turned at once to behold Savannah, extending his arms to frame his human canvas.

 

"Adrian, this is Savannah," Maxim introduced the two of them. Savannah held her hand out straight to shake, but Adrian shook his head at the gesture, before yanking her in to endure a hug that rivalled the one he had given Maxim.