Gray Morning Rewrite -- Chapter 3
Sorry this took so long for me to post. I've had it finished for a while now. The netbook I generally use now is busted and I am using the old one I had that is also busted -- but I can use it when Bob's not home (because busted hinges mean I need to prop the screen up to use it). New netbook is in the works (thank god I had a warranty on the other one), but until then, posting's gonna be interesting. =p Just in time for LJI, of course....
If you're reading Gray Morning for the first time, previous chapters can be found here:
1 | 2
For the second time that day, Savin found himself bent over a bathroom sink. His knuckles hurt with how tightly he gripped the edge of it, but that wasn’t the only reason why they hurt, and he knew it. He choked back a sob and pushed himself away from the sink. He had been in here long enough -- he didn’t want to worry Jazz anymore than he already had.
Savin blew his nose, grateful that his glasses hid any evidence that he had been crying. Just a couple of minutes. He had only been in here a few minutes, nothing for Jazz to be overly concerned about. Hearing his father speak with such emotion had hit him hard, reminding him that no matter how cold the man could be, he did truly love his mother. And that? That had been a hard realization to swallow.
He tossed the used paper towel in the trash and made his way out the bathroom door. He straightened his tie, no doubt making it look even worse -- but Jazz would fix it for him, he knew. Except when he stepped outside of the bathroom, he noticed Mari standing off to the right, leaning against the wall and her arms crossed loosely over her chest.
“I was about to come in there and make sure you didn’t fall in,” she muttered, turning to him. She gave him a once over and sighed. “You know you can cry in front of people, right?”
Savin glowered at her before looking away from her. “I wasn’t crying,” he murmured, frowning to himself.
“Bullshit,” Mari said, pushing herself away from the wall and walking towards Savin. Before Savin could deny it any further, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. “Stop trying to be a macho man. It’s such a bad look on you.”
Savin snorted, shaking his head as he hugged her back. “Thanks for the reminder,” he mumbled into her hair. “But I wasn’t trying to be.”
Mari laughed at that and shook her head in amusement. “At least let Jazz see you cry?” she asked as she pulled away from him. “The man adores you -- let him support you, for once.”
Savin sighed, brushing away the stray tear that rolled down his face. “I know he does -- and I have been letting him support me, but --” His throat constricted, making it difficult for him to continue talking. “It’s -- hard.”
Mari nodded, grabbing Savin’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get some food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything all day.”
Savin opened his mouth to respond, but his stomach grumbled in response, instead. He really hadn’t eaten anything all day. He had been too busy trying to keep himself together -- too busy trying to keep his hands steady and ignore the pain that wracked different parts of his body. As he and Mari emerged back out in the reception hall, Savin pulled his hand away from hers and headed towards the buffet line.
Jazz was at his side moments later, his blue eyes filled with concern. Savin thought he saw a spark of something else, too, as Jazz glanced between Savin and Mari. “Everything alright?” he asked, keeping his voice low as Savin picked up a plate.
“Yeah,” Savin answered, giving Jazz a tired smile. He bent forward and kissed Jazz’s forehead. “Sorry about that.”
Jazz nodded, slipping an arm around Savin’s waist and following him down the line as Savin picked a few pieces of food he thought he might be able to stomach. He looked up at Savin again, a slight frown forming on his lips. “You haven’t eaten yet today, have you?”
Savin’s tired smile widened. “Mari asked me the same thing just a few minutes ago,” he said, picking the roll off his plate and taking a bite of it.
Jazz pulled his arm away from Savin’s waist and shook his head, pursing his own lips together. Savin’s stomach turned. “Of course she did,” Jazz muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
Savin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he took his plate and continued back towards the table, where his father, thankfully, no longer sat. He could feel Jazz’s eyes bore into his back, and his shoulders suddenly felt remarkably tense. “Can we not do this here?” Savin asked finally, turning to the younger man. “I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation before you realize you have no reason to be jealous of Mari.”
Jazz blinked, his mouth falling open for a moment before his face flushed a guilty shade of red. “Fine. We can talk about it on the way back to the Palace,” he grumbled, looking away from Savin. He then uncrossed his arms and sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said as they sat down at the table, giving Savin an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
“No, you did,” Savin responded, frowning to himself as he picked up his fork. Another dull ache radiated up his arm, but he ignored it. Despite no longer having any appetite, Savin forced himself to eat, anyway. He glanced at Jazz and noticed the younger man was chewing his bottom lip in thought. Sighing, Savin said, “Look, I’m sorry, too. We’re both a little on edge, I guess.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Jazz said wryly, scooting his chair closer to Savin’s and leaning against him. “Can we go home soon? I’d like to get out of this suit.”
“You live in suits,” Savin muttered, another small smile making its way across his face. He saw his father approach the table out of the corner of his eye just as he moved to put an arm around Jazz’s back. He could eat one-handed, after all.
Hajime raised an eyebrow at them both as he settled down at the table. Jazz didn’t seem to notice him as he nuzzled his head against Savin’s shoulder. “I know, and I hate it. Jeans and t-shirts are more comfortable and less stuffy,” Jazz grumbled. He then sat upright, moving to pick at his own plate of food. Savin wondered if he had grabbed it earlier, while Savin had still been in the bathroom. “Mitchel will fucking wear one all day and never complain once. I don’t know how he does it.”
Savin tensed at the mention of Mitchel, but otherwise kept eating. The sooner he finished, the sooner he and Jazz could leave. Hajime leaned over the table some, clearly trying to get Savin’s attention. Which Savin pointedly ignored until... “Savin,” Hajime said, clearing his throat. “Do you think you’ll be taking any time off after today?”
Savin blinked. “Why would I?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “I already took a couple of days off to grieve.”
“It was just the one day, and you’re allowed to take a whole week,” Hajime muttered, taking a silent bite of his own food. “Why not think of it as a vacation?”
Jazz just shook his head. “There’s no use trying to convince him, Hajime,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get him to stay home for a few days and relax since he found out about Nina. It hasn’t worked.”
“Of course it hasn’t,” Mari muttered, settling into the empty seat beside Savin. She picked the roll off her plate and tore off a piece of it. “Savin? Sit down and take some time to himself? It’s pretty much unheard of.”
Savin gave her and Jazz both a guilty smile. “I’m not that bad...”
“Yes, you are,” Jazz said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You almost went in last night when someone called you to see if you’d cover their shift.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t,” Mari said, leaning a bit over the table so she could turn to Jazz. “How’d you get him to stay home? I would have never been able to do that.”
Savin felt Jazz tense again at Mari directly speaking to him. Instead of letting Jazz answer, Savin turned to Mari and gave her a sheepish look. “Jazz had to remind me of what time the funeral was this morning -- otherwise I would have gone in.”
There was a heavy sigh from across Savin -- it took him a second to realize it had come from his father. “For Jasper’s sake, I hope you learn how to curb your enthusiasm for work sooner rather than later, Savin,” he said, folding his hands on top of one another on the table. He leveled his gaze with Savin’s, looking at him over the edge of his glasses. “Either way, I’m giving you the rest of the week. If I see you in the surgery suite, I will send you back home, understand?”
Savin furrowed his brow in response. “Why? It’s not like I need the time off -- my performance hasn’t dropped any, I’m not --”
“Because you should take some time off,” Hajime said, a note of finality in his voice. “Your mother would want you to. Isn’t that enough of a reason to stay home?”
Savin shut his mouth and turned his eyes towards his plate. “Alright,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “You said only the rest of the week off, right?”
“Right,” Hajime grunted. “Perhaps you can spend some time catching up with Mari -- or spend some more time with Jasper. I’m sure they both would appreciate that.”
Savin nodded, continuing to avoid his father’s eyes. A forced vacation wouldn’t be much of one at all, he knew.
But he also knew there was no point in arguing against his father.
***
“Can you believe that asshole?” Savin grumbled as he and Jazz slipped inside Savin’s car. “Using my dead mother against me like that? What the hell was that shit? Christ, if she were alive, she’d have kicked his ass for it.”
“Pretty sure Nina would have told you to take time off, too, Savin,” Jazz said, keeping his voice low as Savin turned the key in the ignition. He reached out, placing a light hand on Savin’s arm. “She would want you to take care of yourself, just like everyone else wants you to.”
Savin tensed under Jazz’s touch, but then relaxed after a moment, putting a hand to his forehead and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah -- and what no one seems to understand is that I can’t stand sitting still --”
“I know,” Jazz said, cutting Savin off before he got on yet another tirade. He frowned to himself, removing his hand from Savin’s arm. “That’s why I already checked with the Council -- you can help me out at meetings and travel with me, the next couple of days. I’m sure I can help keep you busy.”
Savin pursed his lips together. “Isn’t that a bad idea? I’m a civilian -- what if you need to discuss something classified?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Jazz out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, I know I’m technically not qualified to know half of the shit I do know, but still. Isn’t that blatantly breaking the rules?”
“Not when your husband is the Emperor,” Jazz said, flashing Savin with a brief smile. “Besides, the travel will be good for you. Get you out of the Capital for a day or two -- and we’ll get to spend more time together, like your dad suggested.”
Jazz watched Savin anxiously once he had finished speaking, noticing the way Savin’s eyebrows bunched together in thought. Savin then sighed, relaxing against the back of his seat, his shoulders slumping a little bit. “Well -- I don’t mind joining you for the meetings and stuff if it’ll keep me busy...”
“But?” Jazz prompted, raising an eyebrow.
“Traveling’s exhausting,” Savin said after a moment. He pursed his lips together, as if carefully considering his words. “I would much rather stay in the Capital -- that, and --”
“And?” Jazz ignored the brief heaviness in his chest from Savin’s rejection, instead bracing himself for what Savin was about to say next.
“Mari’s only in town for another couple of days,” Savin continued, his own voice sounding hesitant. “I’d like to hang out with her before she leaves -- y’know, without going to a funeral, first. Get caught up.”
Jazz nodded, not trusting his voice as he looked away from Savin and raked his fingers through his hair. “A-Alright,” he managed, clearing his throat and biting his lip.
“Is that -- okay with you?” Savin asked, turning his head towards Jazz. “I know that you’re not necessarily comfortable with her, in general, so --”
“It’s fine,” Jazz muttered, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest. “It’s just you, hanging out with your ex for a few hours, alone. Nothing wrong with that at all.”
“Oh, please,” Savin snapped, shaking his head. “You fucking work with your ex every damn day of the week. Mari and I broke up years before you and I even --”
“You were going to marry her!” Jazz cried. “That’s a little different than me and Mitchel and you know it.”
“But I didn’t marry her and I haven’t even considered the thought of anyone else since meeting you,” Savin said, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Mari and I are just friends -- there’s no reason for you to be jealous --”
“Even your dad prefers her over me --”
“My father’s a fucking asshole,” Savin growled, frowning to himself. Jazz watched as he then breathed in deeply, one hand moving to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t like you because he’d prefer to believe his only son is not, in fact, bisexual, and the fact that I love you to death flies in the face of that belief.”
Jazz clamped his mouth shut, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he then crossed his arms over his chest. He, too, took in a deep breath and bit his lip. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “I just -- I dunno, whenever I see her with you, it’s -- it’s hard to explain.”
“Can’t be any worse than seeing you and Mitchel together,” Savin stated with a slight shrug of his shoulder. “Mari’s at least moved on -- dunno if I could say the same for that bastard.”
“Just because Mitchel doesn’t like you doesn’t mean he still has feelings for me. We broke up years ago, too, remember?” Jazz asked, tightening his arms over his chest. He then took in another deep breath and looked away from Savin. “You could try giving him a chance.”
“I will, if you actually gave Mari a chance, too,” Savin said without missing a beat.
Jazz turned to Savin, raising an eyebrow as he studied his husband for a moment. He then managed a small smile and offered Savin his hand. “Deal,” he said as they managed to briefly shake hands while Savin continued to drive.
Something about the way Savin’s hand tensed in his caused Jazz to raise an eyebrow. It didn’t feel quite right, if that were at all possible. Savin’s hands were generally rather sure of themselves, not shaky or hesitant at all. But this brief shake -- there was something off about it.
Jazz hoped he was just imagining things.
Next Chapter
If you're reading Gray Morning for the first time, previous chapters can be found here:
1 | 2
For the second time that day, Savin found himself bent over a bathroom sink. His knuckles hurt with how tightly he gripped the edge of it, but that wasn’t the only reason why they hurt, and he knew it. He choked back a sob and pushed himself away from the sink. He had been in here long enough -- he didn’t want to worry Jazz anymore than he already had.
Savin blew his nose, grateful that his glasses hid any evidence that he had been crying. Just a couple of minutes. He had only been in here a few minutes, nothing for Jazz to be overly concerned about. Hearing his father speak with such emotion had hit him hard, reminding him that no matter how cold the man could be, he did truly love his mother. And that? That had been a hard realization to swallow.
He tossed the used paper towel in the trash and made his way out the bathroom door. He straightened his tie, no doubt making it look even worse -- but Jazz would fix it for him, he knew. Except when he stepped outside of the bathroom, he noticed Mari standing off to the right, leaning against the wall and her arms crossed loosely over her chest.
“I was about to come in there and make sure you didn’t fall in,” she muttered, turning to him. She gave him a once over and sighed. “You know you can cry in front of people, right?”
Savin glowered at her before looking away from her. “I wasn’t crying,” he murmured, frowning to himself.
“Bullshit,” Mari said, pushing herself away from the wall and walking towards Savin. Before Savin could deny it any further, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. “Stop trying to be a macho man. It’s such a bad look on you.”
Savin snorted, shaking his head as he hugged her back. “Thanks for the reminder,” he mumbled into her hair. “But I wasn’t trying to be.”
Mari laughed at that and shook her head in amusement. “At least let Jazz see you cry?” she asked as she pulled away from him. “The man adores you -- let him support you, for once.”
Savin sighed, brushing away the stray tear that rolled down his face. “I know he does -- and I have been letting him support me, but --” His throat constricted, making it difficult for him to continue talking. “It’s -- hard.”
Mari nodded, grabbing Savin’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get some food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything all day.”
Savin opened his mouth to respond, but his stomach grumbled in response, instead. He really hadn’t eaten anything all day. He had been too busy trying to keep himself together -- too busy trying to keep his hands steady and ignore the pain that wracked different parts of his body. As he and Mari emerged back out in the reception hall, Savin pulled his hand away from hers and headed towards the buffet line.
Jazz was at his side moments later, his blue eyes filled with concern. Savin thought he saw a spark of something else, too, as Jazz glanced between Savin and Mari. “Everything alright?” he asked, keeping his voice low as Savin picked up a plate.
“Yeah,” Savin answered, giving Jazz a tired smile. He bent forward and kissed Jazz’s forehead. “Sorry about that.”
Jazz nodded, slipping an arm around Savin’s waist and following him down the line as Savin picked a few pieces of food he thought he might be able to stomach. He looked up at Savin again, a slight frown forming on his lips. “You haven’t eaten yet today, have you?”
Savin’s tired smile widened. “Mari asked me the same thing just a few minutes ago,” he said, picking the roll off his plate and taking a bite of it.
Jazz pulled his arm away from Savin’s waist and shook his head, pursing his own lips together. Savin’s stomach turned. “Of course she did,” Jazz muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
Savin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he took his plate and continued back towards the table, where his father, thankfully, no longer sat. He could feel Jazz’s eyes bore into his back, and his shoulders suddenly felt remarkably tense. “Can we not do this here?” Savin asked finally, turning to the younger man. “I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation before you realize you have no reason to be jealous of Mari.”
Jazz blinked, his mouth falling open for a moment before his face flushed a guilty shade of red. “Fine. We can talk about it on the way back to the Palace,” he grumbled, looking away from Savin. He then uncrossed his arms and sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said as they sat down at the table, giving Savin an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
“No, you did,” Savin responded, frowning to himself as he picked up his fork. Another dull ache radiated up his arm, but he ignored it. Despite no longer having any appetite, Savin forced himself to eat, anyway. He glanced at Jazz and noticed the younger man was chewing his bottom lip in thought. Sighing, Savin said, “Look, I’m sorry, too. We’re both a little on edge, I guess.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Jazz said wryly, scooting his chair closer to Savin’s and leaning against him. “Can we go home soon? I’d like to get out of this suit.”
“You live in suits,” Savin muttered, another small smile making its way across his face. He saw his father approach the table out of the corner of his eye just as he moved to put an arm around Jazz’s back. He could eat one-handed, after all.
Hajime raised an eyebrow at them both as he settled down at the table. Jazz didn’t seem to notice him as he nuzzled his head against Savin’s shoulder. “I know, and I hate it. Jeans and t-shirts are more comfortable and less stuffy,” Jazz grumbled. He then sat upright, moving to pick at his own plate of food. Savin wondered if he had grabbed it earlier, while Savin had still been in the bathroom. “Mitchel will fucking wear one all day and never complain once. I don’t know how he does it.”
Savin tensed at the mention of Mitchel, but otherwise kept eating. The sooner he finished, the sooner he and Jazz could leave. Hajime leaned over the table some, clearly trying to get Savin’s attention. Which Savin pointedly ignored until... “Savin,” Hajime said, clearing his throat. “Do you think you’ll be taking any time off after today?”
Savin blinked. “Why would I?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “I already took a couple of days off to grieve.”
“It was just the one day, and you’re allowed to take a whole week,” Hajime muttered, taking a silent bite of his own food. “Why not think of it as a vacation?”
Jazz just shook his head. “There’s no use trying to convince him, Hajime,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get him to stay home for a few days and relax since he found out about Nina. It hasn’t worked.”
“Of course it hasn’t,” Mari muttered, settling into the empty seat beside Savin. She picked the roll off her plate and tore off a piece of it. “Savin? Sit down and take some time to himself? It’s pretty much unheard of.”
Savin gave her and Jazz both a guilty smile. “I’m not that bad...”
“Yes, you are,” Jazz said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You almost went in last night when someone called you to see if you’d cover their shift.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t,” Mari said, leaning a bit over the table so she could turn to Jazz. “How’d you get him to stay home? I would have never been able to do that.”
Savin felt Jazz tense again at Mari directly speaking to him. Instead of letting Jazz answer, Savin turned to Mari and gave her a sheepish look. “Jazz had to remind me of what time the funeral was this morning -- otherwise I would have gone in.”
There was a heavy sigh from across Savin -- it took him a second to realize it had come from his father. “For Jasper’s sake, I hope you learn how to curb your enthusiasm for work sooner rather than later, Savin,” he said, folding his hands on top of one another on the table. He leveled his gaze with Savin’s, looking at him over the edge of his glasses. “Either way, I’m giving you the rest of the week. If I see you in the surgery suite, I will send you back home, understand?”
Savin furrowed his brow in response. “Why? It’s not like I need the time off -- my performance hasn’t dropped any, I’m not --”
“Because you should take some time off,” Hajime said, a note of finality in his voice. “Your mother would want you to. Isn’t that enough of a reason to stay home?”
Savin shut his mouth and turned his eyes towards his plate. “Alright,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “You said only the rest of the week off, right?”
“Right,” Hajime grunted. “Perhaps you can spend some time catching up with Mari -- or spend some more time with Jasper. I’m sure they both would appreciate that.”
Savin nodded, continuing to avoid his father’s eyes. A forced vacation wouldn’t be much of one at all, he knew.
But he also knew there was no point in arguing against his father.
***
“Can you believe that asshole?” Savin grumbled as he and Jazz slipped inside Savin’s car. “Using my dead mother against me like that? What the hell was that shit? Christ, if she were alive, she’d have kicked his ass for it.”
“Pretty sure Nina would have told you to take time off, too, Savin,” Jazz said, keeping his voice low as Savin turned the key in the ignition. He reached out, placing a light hand on Savin’s arm. “She would want you to take care of yourself, just like everyone else wants you to.”
Savin tensed under Jazz’s touch, but then relaxed after a moment, putting a hand to his forehead and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah -- and what no one seems to understand is that I can’t stand sitting still --”
“I know,” Jazz said, cutting Savin off before he got on yet another tirade. He frowned to himself, removing his hand from Savin’s arm. “That’s why I already checked with the Council -- you can help me out at meetings and travel with me, the next couple of days. I’m sure I can help keep you busy.”
Savin pursed his lips together. “Isn’t that a bad idea? I’m a civilian -- what if you need to discuss something classified?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Jazz out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, I know I’m technically not qualified to know half of the shit I do know, but still. Isn’t that blatantly breaking the rules?”
“Not when your husband is the Emperor,” Jazz said, flashing Savin with a brief smile. “Besides, the travel will be good for you. Get you out of the Capital for a day or two -- and we’ll get to spend more time together, like your dad suggested.”
Jazz watched Savin anxiously once he had finished speaking, noticing the way Savin’s eyebrows bunched together in thought. Savin then sighed, relaxing against the back of his seat, his shoulders slumping a little bit. “Well -- I don’t mind joining you for the meetings and stuff if it’ll keep me busy...”
“But?” Jazz prompted, raising an eyebrow.
“Traveling’s exhausting,” Savin said after a moment. He pursed his lips together, as if carefully considering his words. “I would much rather stay in the Capital -- that, and --”
“And?” Jazz ignored the brief heaviness in his chest from Savin’s rejection, instead bracing himself for what Savin was about to say next.
“Mari’s only in town for another couple of days,” Savin continued, his own voice sounding hesitant. “I’d like to hang out with her before she leaves -- y’know, without going to a funeral, first. Get caught up.”
Jazz nodded, not trusting his voice as he looked away from Savin and raked his fingers through his hair. “A-Alright,” he managed, clearing his throat and biting his lip.
“Is that -- okay with you?” Savin asked, turning his head towards Jazz. “I know that you’re not necessarily comfortable with her, in general, so --”
“It’s fine,” Jazz muttered, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest. “It’s just you, hanging out with your ex for a few hours, alone. Nothing wrong with that at all.”
“Oh, please,” Savin snapped, shaking his head. “You fucking work with your ex every damn day of the week. Mari and I broke up years before you and I even --”
“You were going to marry her!” Jazz cried. “That’s a little different than me and Mitchel and you know it.”
“But I didn’t marry her and I haven’t even considered the thought of anyone else since meeting you,” Savin said, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Mari and I are just friends -- there’s no reason for you to be jealous --”
“Even your dad prefers her over me --”
“My father’s a fucking asshole,” Savin growled, frowning to himself. Jazz watched as he then breathed in deeply, one hand moving to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t like you because he’d prefer to believe his only son is not, in fact, bisexual, and the fact that I love you to death flies in the face of that belief.”
Jazz clamped his mouth shut, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he then crossed his arms over his chest. He, too, took in a deep breath and bit his lip. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “I just -- I dunno, whenever I see her with you, it’s -- it’s hard to explain.”
“Can’t be any worse than seeing you and Mitchel together,” Savin stated with a slight shrug of his shoulder. “Mari’s at least moved on -- dunno if I could say the same for that bastard.”
“Just because Mitchel doesn’t like you doesn’t mean he still has feelings for me. We broke up years ago, too, remember?” Jazz asked, tightening his arms over his chest. He then took in another deep breath and looked away from Savin. “You could try giving him a chance.”
“I will, if you actually gave Mari a chance, too,” Savin said without missing a beat.
Jazz turned to Savin, raising an eyebrow as he studied his husband for a moment. He then managed a small smile and offered Savin his hand. “Deal,” he said as they managed to briefly shake hands while Savin continued to drive.
Something about the way Savin’s hand tensed in his caused Jazz to raise an eyebrow. It didn’t feel quite right, if that were at all possible. Savin’s hands were generally rather sure of themselves, not shaky or hesitant at all. But this brief shake -- there was something off about it.
Jazz hoped he was just imagining things.
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