Page 55

Matty got to his feet.

“You found him?” I said. “How?”

“I got on Tinder, used a fake photo, set my city to Minneapolis, put my age at eighteen because he’s twenty-eight, fucking gross and predictable, and he showed up within five minutes.”

I put my hands over my mouth. “Nooo—you’re a genius!”

“Yeah, and wait until you hear this. I catfished him for a few hours and he invited me to come over. Tonight. At his apartment. I have his address. And you’re not going to believe where this idiot lives.”

“Where?”

“A senior living retirement home,” Laci said.

This took a few seconds to sink in. “That monster,” I breathed.

I knew where he was instantly. “He’s crashing at his grandmother’s. She’s allergic to cats—are you sure he has her?”

“Oh yeah. He invited me over to meet the cat and his nonna.”

I fumed.

Of course. This was part of the act. He wanted to look like some sweet loving grandson who loved animals and took care of old ladies. He couldn’t care less about her or anyone. That poor woman was probably covered in hives. I never even considered that he’d be there because it never occurred to me he’d be that horrible of a person to subject her to that, even after everything.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“We go there and we get your damn cat,” Laci answered.

“He’ll never give her to me. He’ll slam the door the second he sees us. He knows you. We won’t even get inside. And even if you get him to leave, his grandma will still be there.”

“I can get Grandma out of the apartment,” Matty said.

We turned around to find him standing there.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Let me help.”

11

MATTY

LACI LOOKED SKEPTICAL. “How can you help get the cat, Zombie Boy?”

“She’s in a retirement home, right? They always have musicians perform, especially at Christmas,” I said. “I can say someone sent me over. Everyone comes out for that stuff, they love it. It’ll get Grandma down to the lobby. Laci can tell Tate to meet her at a restaurant or something. Then you slip in and find the cat. If you leave the door open on the way out, he’ll think she ran away.”

Rhiannon seemed to mull it over. “It could work. When does he want to meet you?” she asked Laci.

“In an hour. I’ll cover your shift.”

Rhiannon’s face fell. “Matty can’t do this in an hour,” she said. “He has another three and a half hours to go on the bet.”

And then I said the most bonkers thing of the day. “I’ll eat nine pancakes.”

The two women stared at me.

“I can do it,” I said. “Probably.”

“Matty, that’s a lot of pancakes,” Rhiannon said. “Even if they make them small—”

“I want to. Get me the pancakes and give me ten minutes.” I paused. “Maybe fifteen.”