“What’s going on? I saw Conley’s car out there—you guys okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” I sound strident. “He just left. I need to take my mind off things. Give me something to do. Anything,” I add.
He arches an eyebrow. “Something? Or someone?”
“You get me.”
He sighs. “I thought you were stopping all that.”
“And I thought you liked getting what you’re owed. Guess Emil was right—you’re going soft, old man.”
“Say that name one more time, and you’re barred.” He thinks for a moment. “Wait here.”
He disappears into his office, slams a few drawers, and reemerges with a sheet of paper. I smooth it out, skim-reading through the sums and notes scribbled in the margins, memorizing the guy’s profile before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it into the burn barrel.Nice to meet you, Casey.
“Consider it done.”
“Careful out there, kid.”
I step back, smirking. “Scared I’ll get caught?”
He shakes his head. “I know that look in your eyes—I’m scared you’ll go too far, this time.”
I back my car out, the wheels crunching against the gravel as I rev the engine. This Casey guy I’m looking for lives on the other side of town, and I hope he puts up a good fight. I already know I’ll regret this in a few hours, but right now, it’s exactly what I need.
The buildings fly by in a blur, adrenaline coursing through my veins, pressure mounting behind my eyes. I’m buzzing, electric—butwhen I track him down behind a warehouse, spinning him around and yanking his collar between my hands, the energy drains out of me. I was hoping to slay a dragon tonight, but it turns out Casey is one limp-dicked letdown.
What a buzzkill.
“I was planning on making it right by Thursday!” he bleats.
“Man the fuck up!”
I’m giving him a pointer for his general vibe, here. Look at the guy—he tried to screw RJ for a couple of spare parts, and then when I show up, he just gives in like a little bitch? It’s pathetic. I sigh inwardly. Sycamore Heights life is so indescribably lame.
I’m running through my options, trying to figure out how else I could work off all my nervous energy, when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Dexter Drake? You there, buddy?”
I frown. I recognize the voice, but… That can’t be him.Can it?
“Anyone seen Dexter Drake?”
Yeah. That’s definitely him.
My shoulders stiffen, my fingers tightening on Casey’s collar, and he looks at me strangely, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the intruder, his brain whirring as he tries to figure out who the bigger threat is.
“Tall guy. Hollywood.”
Casey wriggles in my hands, sweat beading across his forehead.
“I’ll get it to you on Tuesday, Hitman! Keep the West Coast out of it—I’m serious!”
I stand there, stunned.
Somewhere behind me, Lewis bursts out laughing, and I turn to look,knowingI should just let go of Casey, but incapable of moving an inch. My mentor’s beaming face swings into view, and he might be smiling at me, but I know he doesn’t mean it—not really.
“Amy! What a coincidence.” His smile widens.
