HANS: Chapter 128
Wrung dry and feeling happier than I can ever remember feeling, I tighten my arms around Cassandra, my Butterfly, my pretty little neighbor, and board the plane for home.
She tries to take her own seat, but I pull her into my lap, and by the time the aircraft leaves the ground, she’s fast asleep, her head lolling against my shoulder.
I watch the darkness grow outside the window and stroke my hand up and down Cassandra’s thigh.
I need to find the realtor who sold Cassandra 1304 Holly Court and give her a million dollars. Maybe four.
Nero and King are in the two seats across from me, so I kick my foot out toward the aisle, getting Nero’s attention.
He slowly turns to face me. “Yes?”
I nod past him to King, knowing he’s the digital guy. “Can you find someone for me and set up an anonymous transfer?”
King lifts a brow. “Can you not?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t exactly have a computer these days.” Then I think about it. “I’ll need to scope out another hotel.”
Nero waves me off. “We already talked about it, you’re staying at my place tonight.”
“Savannah’s still there too,” King adds. “So we’ll crash in our usual room.”
Nero shrugs. “Whatever. Just don’t wake me up at five a.m.”
“That happened once. Get over it.” King shakes his head, then looks at me. “Who do you need me to find?”
“The realtor that sold Cassandra her old house. Kinda feel like I owe her.”
“Because you blew it up?” Nero jokes.
I give him the middle finger but admit, “I will need to find a realtor, but yeah, don’t really want to try and explain the circumstances to anyone who already knows Cassandra.”
Nero tips his head. “What sort of place are you looking for?”
I hug Cassandra to me as I answer. “Something big, lots of space for kids. And a big yard. Obviously fenced in and rigged for security.” I think about it. “Pool would be nice. I grew up with one and I miss it.”
Nero nods slowly. “Sounds like my neighbor’s place.”
“They selling?” I joke.
“I’m sure I can convince them to.”
“What? No. Nero, that’s—” I was going to say crazy, but crazy is kind of his brand.
He leans back against the seat and closes his eyes. “Tomorrow.”