“No, listen, Rio, really,” Casey said—and the more she thought about this, the more she was convinced it would work—that it would work. That she would be safe. Certainly safer than Rio would be if he just walked in there. “In this particular situation, I’ve got something better than Navy SEAL training.”
He laughed—it was more like an exhale of his exasperation. “Yeah, right and what’s that?”
“Two point five million Instagram followers,” Casey told him, “and a face that wasn’t only on buses in Japan.”
“I’ll go in live-streaming,” Casey said, her voice rich with excitement over Rio’s phone’s speaker, volume turned up. It was easier to run faster that way, using his arms, without having to hold his phone to his ear. “I’ll announce that I’m live on Instagram, and that it’s being archived on my YouTube account, too. Let the bad guys know that the world is watching.” She exhaled hard. “Whatever they do, it’ll be in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses.”
“No.” Rio was drenched with sweat, and Jesus his foot hurt. His arm wasn’t bad, but the wound had bled clear through his makeshift bandage—turned out he’d grabbed a pair of briefs instead of a T-shirt. True, the elastic made it easier to keep on, but that didn’t quite cancel out the lesser amount of absorbent material. Or the fact that he was now the freakshow running down the street with a pair of tightie-whities on his arm.
At least he wasn’t wearing them on his head.
But okay. All right. The Infinity Lounge was finally in his distant view, so he pushed himself even harder. “I mean, yes, we should do that, but not with you. I’ll do it. You and Ella—and Chief Taylor, too—as soon as they get there, you all need to leave. I want you gone. Casey, I want you safe—I need you safe.”
“And I need you safe,” she shot back. “Plus, it doesn’t work if I’m not there.” He could hear the frustration in her voice. “Because suddenly, it’s back to being just you, walking into a bar. Like a really terrible set-up to an extra bad joke. Your SEAL friends are not here, by the way.”
Fuck! “You’re there?”
“I just pulled in. The parking lot’s not very full. Nothing here screams drug lord’s private army, but there was a black SUV—just one, so I’m feeling pretty good about that—tinted windows, parked out front on the street.”
“No,” Rio said. “No, no no no no-no-no. Do not get out of that car—”
“No offense,” Casey said, “but no one’s gonna watch a livestream if it’s just you. It has to be me. I mean, at least I have to be there. I’ll announce that I’m... I don’t know, picking Jon up for... something. Silly Jon, he forgot that we’d planned this. Most of my followers know Jon pretty well. I mean, they know the non-rehab-going, Disney version. He’s spacey, not blackout binge-y, you know? The brother of my dreams.”
“Casey—”
“It’ll work,” she insisted. “I’ll swoop in, grab him, and get the hell out of there. We’ll pick you up and we can all go hide out at the Del, where you won’t get almost-shot again.”
She wanted him to go with them to the Del. That at least was a silver lining in this shitstorm from hell. “Please,” Rio begged her. “At least wait for me. I’m almost there.”
“I gotta go dark to start the live-stream,” she said. “And this is gonna sound like I think something might go wrong, but I really don’t think it will, I don’t. I just... I want to say that... I’m pretty sure I was wrong and you’re really still you. And even if I am wrong and you’re only half as wonderful as Luc—fake Luc—I’m also pretty sure that I love you anyway.”
“Casey, Jesus, don’t—”
“Yeah, that sounded like some big dramatic goodbye, but I really meant it as more of a hello. We have lots to talk about, like you wanted to do last night, and, well, I’m in, if you still want to.”
“Goddamnit—”
“I’ll be back out with Jon before you get here.” And with that, she was gone.
“Fuck!” Rio said, and ran faster.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was perpetually evening inside the Infinity Lounge.
The bright afternoon sunlight streaming in from the propped open back door didn’t penetrate more than a few feet down the long hallway that led past the insecticide-scented kitchen on the left and two doors marked Bros and Hoes on the right.
“Ooh,” Casey narrated to the twenty thousand-and-some-odd followers who were already watching. “There’s a joke that hasn’t gotten any funnier since I was in here the last time.”
It was a good time of day for a stream, lotta bored people on the east coast killing time and scrolling through social media, but she had to make it interesting. My brother’s in this shithole attempting to get evidence he can use against a man who apparently tried to run me over last night was a little too interesting, however.
Instead, she went with, “Jon’s in here somewhere.” She stopped for a moment in the shadows next to that men’s room door and adjusted the camera on her phone to compensate for the low light. “We’re gonna surprise him.”
To her immediate left, along the wall that was shared with the kitchen, was a dark and silent pinball machine and an old-school juke box blaring out a country song about back roads and beer.
Her goal was to get Jon out of there as quickly as possible, and her working plan was to pull him into the back lot to show him her “new car.” Which was really Ella’s SUV, but who cared. They would get in so she could “test drive” it with him, and she’d get him the hell away, pick up Rio, and...
They’d all live happily ever after were the words that immediately came to mind. But first she had to find Jon.
