Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
The phone screen glows in my hand, my thumb hovering over it as I wait for Koen’s update.
I lean back against the headboard with Jinx curled up at my side, her green eyes half-closed as I absentmindedly stroke her fur.
The room is quiet, but my nerves aren’t.
Every second feels longer than it is, time stretching like taffy while I wait for updates.
“She’s not moving.” Koen’s voice crackles through my earbuds, distorted by the background noise of the Strip, the crowd’s chatter, the distant roar of traffic, and the occasional burst of laughter. “She’s just… standing there, like she’s daydreaming.”
I frown, my fingers tapping idly against the back of my phone.
What the hell is she doing?
“You think she’s scared to cozy up to Belmont?” I ask, catching myself running my palm up and down my thigh, a nervous habit I’m far too familiar with.
“No, it literally looks like she’s deep in thought. Maybe she’s trying to figure out how to do this.”
“Or overthinking it,” I mutter, my lips twitching as I type out a quick message to her.
Tick-tock.
I watch the screen, waiting for a response, an odd mix of amusement and irritation running through me. The damn anticipation is exhilarating and infuriating.
I don’t have all day.
Well, maybe I technically do, but she doesn’t need to know that.
The real problem is that I don’t like having Koen out there, exposed, watching her from a distance while I sit here.
I know he has a black hat pulled low and sunglasses on, blending in as much as possible, but even with his best attempts at being incognito, there’s always a risk of him being recognized and harassed.
“What did you tell her?” Koen asks, a chuckle breaking through the line. “She rolled her eyes dramatically. But hey, at least she’s moving now.” I hear the smile in his voice, and a small one tugs at my own lips in response.
“Just gave her a little push,” I mutter, brushing my fingers over Jinx’s fur, and her head nudges my palm. Like a domino effect, Koen’s amusement trickled all the way to the cat.
“We’re heading toward the Plaza now,” Koen updates, the ambient sounds from his end growing more muffled as he moves.
I nod, even though he can’t see me. I won’t say it, but I’m thankful for him being out there for me, being my eyes today when I can’t be.
Because leaving the house…
The thought alone, the idea of standing in the middle of all those people, the press of bodies, the unpredictability of the crowd, people dodging around me, brushing past, I suppress a shudder imagining it, even as my skin crawls.
My phone buzzes in my hand, a message coming through. I glance at the screen, expecting her, but it’s Sylus.
Sylus
The car is where you wanted it. Locked.
Thank you, Sy.
A tiny flicker of warmth flickers to life inside me that feels a little like belonging. They’ve all got me.
“Sylus parked the Mustang next to the Bellagio,” I tell Koen, leaning back and stroking Jinx again.
“Perfect. She’s spotted Belmont. He’s at the outside bar. She’s hanging back, watching him. Seems as if she’s scoping him out before making a move.”
“Good,” I murmur, more to myself than to Koen. I want her to take her time. Assess the situation, feel out the angles. That’s what I would do.
“Belmont looks pretty damn bored.”
“Bored, huh? That could work in her favor.” The guy is too used to being entertained, never having to work for anything. Maybe he’s ripe for the picking.
“Remind me why we need his number again?” Koen’s voice is edged with skepticism. “We’ve got his business line from when Levi invited him to the birthday party, right?”
“We do, but Sy wants his private one. He wants to try to track Belmont’s location. He thinks Veronica’s screwing around with Belmont. Even if she’s not, it wouldn’t hurt to know his whereabouts…” I pause, thinking it through. “Could give us leverage. A safety net.”
“He thinks they’re screwing?” Koen laughs. “She’s here, too, and right now, it looks more like he’s too afraid to even look her in the eyes.”
“Hey, I don’t know. It’s Sylus’s theory, but getting Belmont’s number only has perks for the plan.”
Koen lets out a small hum of acknowledgment. “If we even get that far. She still has to get the damn card.”
“Well…” I sigh, tapping my thumb against my thigh, “… that’s what today’s about, isn’t it? Seeing if she’s got what it takes.”
Maybe she does.
Hope. A sliver of it.
This could actually work.
Koen goes quiet for a moment, and I know he’s watching her, analyzing her moves, reading her in the way only he can.
“She’s approaching him now,” he says eventually. “She’s got that look… that confidence. Not forced, either. Natural.”
I swallow, my grip on the phone tightening as I close my eyes, trying to picture it. Her. Even though I have no idea what she looks like.
“What’s she doing now?” I ask, perhaps too soon to come off as casual. I even consider asking him to send a photo of what’s happening, but I refrain. My curiosity is starting to get the better of me.
“She’s not overdoing it. Casual, like she’s just there for a drink. I’ll try to get closer to hear what they say when she starts talking him up.”
The sound gets muffled again, and all I can do is wait.
God, I hate waiting.
Jinx yawns, stretching one paw out, then tucks it back under herself, entirely unimpressed by the unfolding drama.
“He’s not paying her any mind yet.” Koen sucks in a breath. “Wait… there it is. Fuck me, that was a bold move. She just demanded he look at her. And he did.”
“She did what?”
What the fuck?
Maybe she isn’t what we need after all. Can’t have her go around and fuck shit up for us with her conceitedness.
“She’s telling him what to do. And… holy shit…
he’s doing it.” Koen’s voice is tinged with something that almost sounds like admiration.
“His body language changed. He’s curious now, leaning in.
She’s… got him. He’s standing there like a deer caught in headlights, and now I can see it too.
” Koen huffs a laugh. “Oh my God, he’s into that shit. ”
She figured that out before Koen did?
“Sounds like she’s better than you thought?”
“She’s better than you thought,” he retorts with a hint of amusement. “He’s giving her his card. Jesus, she’s even got him writing down another number on it. Probably his private one like you wanted.”
Impressive.
“What now? Is she leaving?”
“No, she’s… holy shit,” Koen’s voice cracks with disbelief. “She called him a good boy.”
I can’t help it. My lips twitch, and a laugh bursts free. “No way.”
“I swear to God. He’s eating it up. He handed her his card. And… yeah, she’s walking away. Ric, she’s got it.”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck indeed.” There’s a moment of static, then urgency. “Wait… she’s darting off. I gotta move, or I’ll lose her.”
“Crowded on the Strip?”
“When is it not?”
My phone buzzes in my hand, vibrating against my palm. I glance down, and the image of Belmont’s business card fills the screen, his scrawled handwriting adding a number and a hasty ‘call me’ on the back.
Ew.
The word slips into my mind unbidden, my lip curling.
What a desperate fuck.
I forward the image to Sylus when another message from her comes in.
Maybe you’ve got a shot with him after all, Captain Bossy.
He’s a little sub.
Captain Bossy?
I stare at the words, the corners of my lips twitching upward despite myself.
What a little brat.
The audacity of her, she’s risking everything out there, and here she is, giving me a nickname as though this is some kind of game.
I type back quickly, my fingers a blur over the keys.
Ready for the next one?
Bring it.
Good.
Belmont was only the warm-up. The real task is next. If she can’t pull a switcheroo off, she won’t be of any use to us. If she can… well, maybe she’s got a place in our plans after all.
I tap out the next set of instructions.
Switch the Elvis sunglasses with the sunglasses of one of the security guards at The Harrington Heights Casino.
You want me to flirt my way through security now?
My eyes narrow at the message. I can almost hear the sarcasm in her voice. I type back quickly and curtly.
If that’s what it takes.
I honestly don’t care how you do it. Just do it.
I drop my phone to my lap, exhaling slowly as I lean back against the headboard.
“She’s moving again.” My earbuds crackle, and Koen’s voice filters in. “Making her way toward the Harrington Heights. You’re really going to make her steal from a security guard?”
“Yes.” My answer is immediate. She needs to prove herself. Not only to me but to the others and, most importantly, to herself. If she can’t handle this, then what the hell are we even doing here?
“You’re relentless, Ric.” There’s a chuckle in Koen’s voice, and I can tell he’s moving again, the noise of the Strip growing louder in the background. “I think she’s up for it, though. The way she handled Belmont…”
It’s true, she’s already better than I expected. I’d wanted her to succeed, sure, but there was still a part of me that doubted she would, that she’d stumble, that her cockiness would cost her.
Except she didn’t stumble.
“Yeah, well,” I mutter, trying to downplay the way my chest tightens at Koen’s words. “She’s got one more to go before we’re impressed.”
Koen hums a noncommittal sound. “This one’s riskier.” His voice has shifted, losing some of its earlier lightness. “The guards there aren’t only for show, and you know Veronica’s got them on high alert these days.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the anxiety that gnaws at the edges of my thoughts.
He’s right. The Harrington Heights Casino isn’t some dime-a-dozen tourist trap.
It’s Veronica’s fortress, her domain, and every inch of it is under scrutiny.
However, if that girl wants to be part of our crew, she needs to prove she can handle pressure.
More than that, she needs to show she’s not afraid to push boundaries.