Page 68 of Obey

The song ends, and Maddox grins at the receptive audience as they applaud. He takes a little bow before hopping off the stage, and I follow him toward the bar. We order ginger ale and clink our glasses together.

“You could drink,” I say, smiling. “I’ll drive us. And make sure to tuck you into bed when you can’t get it up.”

“Nah. Sheryl would already flip out if she knew I’d had a few beers.” Maddox rolls his eyes. “Anyway, if you plan on fucking me into the mattress, I’d rather be, you know, coherent.”

“I wouldn’t!” I say, bumping my shoulder against him. “I’m a gentleman. Only slow, gentle, delicate…”

He sneers at me. “How dare you.” He starts to chuckle, though, shaking his head before he murmurs, “This is nice.”

It is. It’s really nice, being here, with him, not fighting. Just having a good time.

Maybe he was onto something when he suggested we run away.

“Not Mexico,” I say. “Alaska is still the US, and nobody would ever think of looking for us there.”

“I don’t know about the cold,” he says, tilting his head. “California’s fucking huge. Good luck hunting us down there, especially if we ended up with some quiet little life out there.”

“Or we could do Hawaii,” I suggest. “We retire to a tropical paradise. Or, uh, not retire, but find jobs as surf instructors or whatever the fuck they do on Hawaii.”

Maddox starts to laugh so hard his shoulders shake. “Do you even know how to fucking surf?”

I give him an innocent look. “It can’t be that hard, right? We’re pros at the whole outdoor nature water thing by now.”

He laughs harder. “We could stay here and become swamp guides, I guess. Get one of those airboats and show people how to navigate and tell them about the dangers of crocodiles?—”

“Alligators,” I correct him.

“I knew that,” he tells me, and he wipes at the tears in his eyes. He’s fucking adorable like this, which I’m sure nobody but me would ever say about him.

If we weren’t in public, I’d kiss him.

I clink my glass against his again. “We’ll think about it. We have so many easily transferable skills. And great resumes.”

Maddox’s grin comes so easily tonight. “With the best references, too. Could you even imagine?”

Not to mention my prison record, but I don’t want to bring the mood down by mentioning it. I finish my drink and set the glass on the bartop. “Sounds like a plan. But we should get back to Jim. He’s probably itching to show us off to somebody else.”

Maddox snorts, but he nods. “Yeah. I just love being put on display like this.” He sets his own glass down. “All right. Ready for duty.”

We head back to our table, weaving around the many bar patrons. Only Jim and Hank are still sitting there.

Jim whistles in awe. His words are slurred when he says, “Wow. You boys got… got some pipes on you. See, Hank? Singing isn’t just for…”

“I heard you!” Hank finishes off his beer and gets up. “I saw Paula lining up. I’m gonna convince her to do a duet with me.”

I wonder what Jim was going to say.

Now that I’m paying attention, I notice that Jim’s eyes are red, and he’s swaying. He must have been drinking a lot.

“You all right, Jim?” I ask. “Should Maddox and I take you home?”

Jim shakes his head. “Why bother? There’s no one at home.”

Maddox and I exchange a look.

“Then we’ll hang out for a little longer, but I insist. We’ll take you home before we head out for the night, okay?” Maddox says.

“Charlie’s girls are all married. Getting married. Having kids.” Jim peers into his beer. “Hank’s been hounding Paula. Molly’s got a boyfriend. Just watch, she’ll get knocked up soon. But me…” He looks at us. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t… I didn’t do anything, okay?”

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