You've Got Fail(66)

“That’s the thing. You aren’t. Not at all. Not even a little bit. He knows that. He fell in love with the real you. Not the redheaded Scarlet Rocket imposter with the balls of steel and the mouth of a sailor. He fell in love with the same you that I love.”

“But he ran.”

She scooted closer and draped one arm over me. “Yeah, that was dumb, too. I’d tell him he was dumb if he were here.”

I hiccupped. “But he’s not dumb. He’s smart. God, he’s so smart, Han. He writes these amazing words that help so many people. And he actually cares about them. Like, really cares. And he knows all this pop culture and comics and movies. Like, he’s a big dork, but he’s also a teddy bear, but then he’s got this built body, but then he glues tampons to action figures, and—”

“Huh?” She giggled against my back. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. He’s perfect for you.”

“Yeah, he was.” I squeezed the tears from my eyes, letting them drip to the pillow.

“He is.” She sighed and pressed her ice-cold feet to my warm ones. I was so used to it I didn’t even complain. “I knew when you left here last night that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it.”

“I wish you’d let me in on that little secret.”

“You had to find out for yourself.”

I pinned her feet between mine. “For a girl who’s gotten herself in 50k deep with the mob, you sure are wise sometimes.”

“About that.”

I groaned. “What am I going to do now?”

“You mean ‘we.’ What are ‘we’ going to do now.”

“Yeah, what you said.”

“I don’t know.” She let out her falling-asleep sigh. “But whatever it is, we’ll do it together.”

I wiped my eyes as she dozed off. Pauly would be here in two days. We were out of options. If we ran, he’d catch us. If we stayed, Hannah would have to go back to work for him. I’d never allow it. But there was one more option. I could go to work for Pauly. Though I couldn’t count cards, I could read people, get an idea of their tells and their demeanor. If I could glean enough information about his regular players, I wouldn’t need to count; I’d be able to read them more clearly than the cards in their hands. At least, that was my hope. It was all I had.

My eyes finally closed, though only one image came to mind as I drifted to sleep. Willis, his Clark Kent glasses askew, as he stared down at me. I ran to the dream, desperate to be folded in his embrace, but he disappeared and slipped through my fingers like smoke.





26





Willis





The banging on my door intensified the ache in my head. Not cool. I lay sideways across my mattress, an empty bottle of vodka on the floor next to my nightstand. Last night hadn’t ended well, though the very end was just a drunken haze of talking to myself, debating over whether to crawl over to Scarlet’s house, and finally passing out.

Bang, bang. The fuck was going on at my front door? I stood, though the floor shifted under my feet, and I dropped back onto the bed. I began to suspect I was still drunk. More banging spurred me to try again, and I managed to make it to the front door after a few stumbles on the ever-moving floor.

“Whoisit?” That may have been a sentence.

“Jason. Open up.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I leaned my forehead against the door and tried to think of a good answer. Nothing came to mind. “Touché.” I twisted the lock and pulled the door open.

Jason strode in looking like a dressed-down Commander Reptilian. He had a brown grocery bag under one arm and set it down on the kitchen counter.

I saluted him in the proper Vocknar fashion, three fingers on the left side of my nose.

He shook his head and plopped down on my sofa. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” I closed the door and sank into a side chair. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you needed some assistance.”

Did Commander Reptilian’s clairvoyant powers transfer to Jason during filming? “How did you know?” I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth.

“Let’s see. After you told me the entire backstory, you continued getting more and more loopy as you drained a bottle of what you described as ‘rotgut vodka, the cheap shit you can get at the drugstore.’” He pulled out his phone and began to read. “I’m just so bummed. How did I let her get to me like this? What was I thinking?” He glanced up. “I’m just going to skip to some of the later ones, since they got funnier as you got drunker.”

“I don’t remember texting you.” I cradled my head in my hands.

“Do you know she smells like vanilla? She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Do you think she stares at herself naked in the mirror? If I were her, I would. I’d touch myself, too. Tell me how pretty I am like Buffalo Bill in “Silence of the Lambs.” I miss her. She tricked me. I’m Scarlet Rocket. Did you know Rocket means my dick? I miss her. She’s evil, right? But she doesn’t seem evil. She seems wonderful, and beautiful, and feels so good. And she thinks I’m Superman. Can I be your second in command instead of First Lieutenant ScaleyThorn? Sometimes I question his allegiance since his mother was half vampire and all. Do you think Scarlet will come back? That’s not even her real name. I love her.”