Page 12 of Animal Beats

“No. I need to monitor all of your communications in order to do my job properly. Right, Luke?”

Four eyes swing to him. Río bangs an unrecognizable beat on his thighs. For his part, Luke lets the tension in the police conference room swell. I get why he’s been so successful as UC’s manager for all these years.

“She has a point. You can’t expect her to rely on you to tell her what’s going on with you. If you disappear, say to the Trevi Fountain, how will she be able to track you?”

“I’m not a fucking child!” The drummer bangs on the table, louder than on his legs.

Apparently at the end of his rope, Luke says, “Then stop acting like one.”

I know my ask was big. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t expect him to comply with it. Getting his geolocation and texts would be good. The rest is gravy. He’s just so unpredictable. Which got him into this mess in the first place.

I rub my lips together, noting I need to add some lip balm to them. Silence continues.

Who will be the first to break this time? Not me. I’ve said everything I need to say. Luke too. Ball’s in Río’s court.

After what seems like hours, Río grabs his phone and clicks quite a few buttons. “There! Happy? Now my babysitter will see everything I say and where I go. Won’t stop me in the slightest.”

In my hand, my cell buzzes. The tracker app shows Río right here, in the police station. I’m now the proud recipient of all of his texts, many of which are from women. How much fun will this be? Finally, my phone fills up with his emails, most of which seem to be junk. I skim through them, noticing several from me which have not been opened. Wonderful.

Game on.

5

RÍO

“Now that that’s settled, I’ve been in touch with our flight crew. I want to see you in the hotel’s lobby, fully packed, in three hours.” Luke makes his ridiculous pronouncement and walks out of the conference room.

I hate this feeling. I’m not a fucking child and don’t need to be monitored as if I were one. This PR chick can screw off.

“Listen, Río, let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. I’ll keep an eye on you and your phone because it’s my job. I’m not going to interfere if you want to hook up with a groupie or anything. UC simply can’t afford any more bad press. You know the toll Lissa and Michelle put the Hardys through.”

When she puts it like this, I have to agree. Still. “I wasn’t looking for publicity. I was only having fun.”

“Luke didn’t ask this before, but were you drinking at the fountain?”

“No.” I remember the Italian chick with the beer. “Well, one, okay. Someone handed me a beer. But that’s it.”

“Simply because someone hands you a beer doesn’t mean you have to drink it.”

I pull back. What planet is this woman from? “It would’ve been rude of me not to accept the fan’s gift.”

“There’s ‘accepting’ and then there’s ‘drinking.’ See the difference?”

My eyebrows rise then lower. If someone gives me a free drink, no way am I not going to drink it, babysitter be dammed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Not.

“Come on, let’s return to the hotel. Luke said we have three hours to get our stuff together and I don’t want to be late.” She squints at me. “We don’t want to be late,” she amends.

Whatever. I exit the conference room and wave at the guard who took a selfie before. We don’t walk by the holding cell, so I’m unable to wish those guys goodbye. When we arrive at the front of the building, I fist bump a couple of the officers who were down by the fountain. Everyone offers me what I assume to be best wishes in Italian. See? I’m not a bad guy.

We enter the streets of Rome and the PR chick banks right. She’s a few inches shorter than me, but she maintains a fast clip. A window filled with men’s clothing catches my attention, and I stop in front of it, debating whether to go in and try on the shirts. Not like I wear too many of them, but I am half-naked. Perhaps I should buy one now?

My babysitter returns to my side. “What are you doing? Luke said to go back to the hotel.”

“Our manager said we have to meet up in the lobby in three hours,” I correct her. “It’ll take me fifteen minutes max to pack, so I still have two-and-a-half hours to enjoy Rome. What do you think of these shirts?” I point to the window.

“I think you have enough clothes.”

I hold out my bare arm. “I might need a few more shirts.”