Another Life

Part 28

The night air was cool as we rode, the loudness of the bike drowning out the thoughts that tried to creep in. Rogue continued to hold tightly, resting her head on the back of my shoulders.

We'd been on the road for hours, the landscape shifting from the familiar woods around the mansion to open highways and small towns. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie beautiful glow on the empty road ahead.

I spotted a dimly lit bar in the distance, its flickering neon sign reading "The Rusty Nail." The place looked like it had seen better days, but it was good enough for a pit stop. We needed a break, something to eat, and a chance to figure out our next move.

I slowed the motorcycle and pulled into the gravel  lot. "Let's grab some food," I said over my shoulder as I killed the engine.

Rogue nodded, sliding off the bike and stretching her arms. "Sounds good. I'm starving."

We walked inside, the smell of fried food and stale beer hitting us immediately. The bar dimly lit, with scattering drunks hunched over their drinks or playing pool in the corner. The bartender gave us a quick glance before returning to whatever he was doing.

Two seats at the bar, away from the few other people in the place. Rogue sat on the barstool next to me, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"I haven't been to a place like this since I met you for the first time, when you were cage fighting." She admitted, keeping her voice low.

"Just stick close," I say, with a simple smirk.

The bartender, a tired-looking woman with too much makeup, came over to take our order. "Two burgers, fries and a couple of beers." I ordered, not breaking eye contact with the waitress.

The food and drinks arrived, Rogue stared at the cold beer sitting in front of her, "go ahead, try it." I said, taking a sip of mine.

She lifted the bottle and took a cautious sip. Her face immediately scrunched up, and set it down with a grimace. "That's...not what I expected."

I laughed, "takes some getting used to."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she muttered, pushing the beer away.

As we ate, I kept an eye on the room. The place was semi-quiet other, but I could feel a few eyes lingering on us, mostly on Rogue. She wasn't used to this kind of scene, and her unease made her stand out a bit. I wasn't too concerned, though—I'd been alive for almost two hundred years, I can handle any anything at this point.

Sure enough, it didn't take long for trouble to sniff us out. A couple of locals at the bar had taken notice of Rogue and decided to treat their luck. One of them, a lanky guy with greasy hair and a cocky grin, swaggered over to us.

"Hey there," he said, leaning a little too close to Rogue. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a dump like this?"

Rogue tensed, glancing at me for a second. I gave her a small nod, letting her know I had her back.

"Just passing through," she said, keeping her tone polite but strong.

The guy either didn't notice or didn't care. He grinned wider, leaning in even closer. "Maybe you and I could..."

Before he could finish, I was on my feet, stepping between him and Rogue. I didn't need to say anything; the look I gave him was enough to make him back off a few steps. "She's not interested," I said, my voice low and firm, asserting dominance.

The guy's grin faltered, and for a moment, I tho if ht he'd back off. But then he squared his shoulders, clearly not wanting to lose in front of  his buddies. "What's your problem, man? Just trying to be friendly."

I didn't bother with a reply, instead I gave him a warning look—one that I'd perfected over the years. He hesitated, but then one of his friends got up from their table and headed over. Great.

"Leave it," I said to his friend as he approached, not even looking at him. "You don't want to start something you can't finish."

But of course, they didn't listen. The second guy threw a punch, and I had no choice but to block it, pushing him back with enough force to send him stumbling into a table. Chairs scraped against the floor, and suddenly, the place erupted into chaos.

I didn't waste time, I moved fast, making sure Rogue was out of harm's way before dealing with the guys trying to pick a fight. Rogue stayed back, her eyes wide as she watched me handle the situation. She didn't need to get involved— I could take care of it.

A few punches later, the bar grew silent again. The locals laid on the floor unconscious. The bartender looked frustrated watching us. I didn't expect a thank you, so I just pulled some cash out of my leather jacket pocket and tossed it on the bar.

"Let's go," I told Rogue, who quickly nodded and followed me out of the bar.

We hit the road again, the cold night air drying the blood on my knuckles from the bar fight. Rogue was quiet, lost in thought as we rode, but I didn't push her to talk. We'd both had enough excitement for one night.

Eventually, I found a spot off the beaten path, a small clearing surrounded by trees where we could set up camp. I started a fire, while Rogue sat and watched, the crackling flames a welcome comfort in the dark woods.

As the fire grew, I pulled out a couple of cigars, offering one to Rogue. She hesitated, but took it. A small smile playing on her lips. "Maybe I won't cough this time," she said as I lit the cigar that was held between her lips.

She took a cautious puff and coughed a little, but quickly adjusted. "Not bad as bad as last time," she admitted, taking a long drag.

"Good," I said, lighting my own cigar. "Now, let's talk about where we're headed."

We spent the next hour going over places Jean might be. Rogue was attentive, asking questions and offering her own ideas. It was good having her company with no drama surrounding us.

Eventually, Rogue drifted off to sleep by the fire, her head resting on her rolled up jacket. I stayed awake a little longer, keeping an eye on the woods around us. The night was quiet, the kind that always made me feel on edge, but I forced myself to relax.