the only logical thing was to request a transfer. Stone wondered again how different his life would’ve turned out if Devine had been on the scene with him a year ago. But he hadn’t, and his life had fallen apart. No going back now.
His partner shot him a look. “Good retirement. Great odds we won’t be shot at. Excellent karma for our next life.”
Stone rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like Arilyn. She gave me an amethyst to help with the smoking cravings. The other day she made us chant ‘Om Nemah Shit’ something.”
“Om Namah Shivaya.”
Stone remained silent. “Now I’m worried.”
Devine shrugged. “It’s a common phrase to reach your highest center. I read about it in a book. Sounds cool.”
“It’s crazy.”
“Like you’re not crazy? Dude, you got more issues than a phone book has pages. At least her stuff tries to make the world better.”
Yes. She did want to make things better. He couldn’t get their last encounter out of his mind. The way she admitted her feelings. Damned if that didn’t take balls. Of course, if they ever did manage to get together to explore an affair, he’d probably become her charity project. “I guess.”
“Is the amethyst working?”
“Doubt it. Probably the patch.” Sure, he’d begun experiencing fewer cravings since he put the amethyst on, but that was coincidence. Crystals didn’t do stuff like that. Still, it was nice of her. Most people couldn’t care less if he smoked his whole life. There was no one left to care.
That sad thought pissed him off, so he buried it deep and kept driving.
He felt Devine’s hard stare. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”
Stone winced. “Yeah. Stupidest thing I ever did in my life.”
His partner let out a shout of laughter. “Or the best. Why not see what happens? Why do you have to doom everything from the start?”
“You some kind of in-house therapist now?” he mocked. “We kissed. It was good. But she’s a damn grenade ready to go off. I need her to be sure she knows it’s just physical between us.”
“Why do I think you’re the real grenade here, Petty?”
“Shut up, Devine. Go grow a pair.”
His friend laughed harder. “You’re still wearing the amethyst, aren’t you?”
He refused to answer. Bastard.
A voice crackled over the speaker. “Car Forty-one. Fight developing at Mugs Tavern, 120 Main Street.”
Devine grabbed the radio. “En route.”
“Over.”
Stone looked at his partner, then grinned. “Bar fight, dude!”
Devine motioned to him. “Drive faster or we’re gonna miss it. Hit the sirens.”
Stone hit the lights and they sped to their destination within minutes. Trying to hide their eagerness, they put on their game faces to look like aggravated cops and walked in. Stone looked around, scanning the surroundings for broken glass, shoving, yelling, and overall male good times. He saw nothing. Just the usual battered booths, wooden Irish bar, dartboard, and various tables scattered around. The place was packed, but nothing rowdy caught his gaze.
He went to the bar and held up his hand. The bartender came over. “Got a call on a fight going on?”
The bartender nodded and pointed across the room. “Yeah, those two drunkards. Fighting over some girl. I don’t get paid to break up fights, man. We have no bouncers here.”
Devine nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”
They strolled over. A heated argument was taking place with two men who’d seen better days. One had a beer belly, white skin, and paunchy cheeks. The other was whip skinny, had a bony face, wore schoolteacher glasses, and reminded Stone of Ichabod Crane. Their voices rose higher and higher.
“I looked at her first! She was ready to leave with me until you slobbered all over her,” Pudgy yelled.
Ichabod leaned in. Saliva sprayed. “I already bought her a drink when you came sniffing around. My night was set until you interrupted and scared her away with your face!”
“Fuck you!” Pudgy roared. “She’d never leave with a skinny-ass punk, four eyes!”
“Four eyes? What are you, twelve? Go drink some more beer, why don’t you, fatso?”
Stone and Devine shared a humorous glance. Damn, what a pansy-ass fight. At this point, no one would even make a move. Holding back a sigh, Stone moved toward them. “Gentlemen. I’ll need you to lower your voices or leave the establishment.”
“Oh, good, the police are here,” Pudgy sneered. “Arrest this asshole for being ugly.”
Ichabod narrowed his gaze. “Arrest this asshole for being stupid!”
Devine clamped his lips together, probably to stifle a laugh. “Follow me; let’s get some air before things get nasty.”