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Casey paused as she walked through the parking lot, her eyes slipping shut for a beat while she reconsidered her life choices. Glancing up at the neon sign, she shook her head and pushed open the door.
For the first time in her life, Casey Bishop walked into the Boom Boom Room.
She showed the burly bouncer her ID – low-key satisfied that he even asked – and moved into the room, looking for her target.
It was a slow Tuesday night. The place was nearly empty.
A handful of businessmen crowded around a small table near the main stage. Two frat boys – drunk off their asses – stumbled back from one of the private rooms with one of the girls. A handful of solo patrons dotted the club and bar, laughing and flirting with the bikini-clad staff.
On stage, a pretty blonde twirled lazily around the pole, her expression blank. “Hot in Herre” blared overhead. At the chorus, she abandoned the pole and ripped open her too-tight shirt to reveal a set of boobs so firm that they barely moved as she dropped to her knees, her hips gyrating with more energy than the bored look on her face would imply.
Sliding to the edge of the stage, the dancer focused her attention on the bearded man in front of her as he tucked a few bills into her skimpy bottoms.
Sonny.
Casey wove around the empty tables, catching a few cursory looks from a couple of guys before their attention drifted back to the younger dancer and sexy wait staff.
Nothing like a strip club to keep a gal’s ego in check.
As she approached Sonny, she made awkward eye contact with the stripper – enough to scare her over to the other side of the stage, where the businessmen greeted her with catcalls and a fat stack of cash.
“I think she thinks I’m your old lady,” Casey said into Sonny’s ear, making him jump. She slid into the booth next to him. “Your reflexes are slippin’, old man.”
“Whatchu doin’ here, little sister?” he slurred, tossing back another drink.
“Looking for a date. Think she’s single?” Casey joked, nodding at the dancer.
“Crystal is married to the bouncer,” Sonny muttered.
Of course, he would know.
A cute waitress arrived with a fresh whiskey and two bottles of beer for Sonny, all but ignoring Casey as she tried to order a Jack and Coke. Typical. Sonny handed Casey a beer, and they clinked bottles before taking a sip in unison. Sonny swallowed once… twice… three times, before coming up for air and setting his bottle down – half empty.
“Pace yourself, Tex,” Casey said.
He belched. “Too late.”
The song faded out, and Crystal scooped up her cash before slinking off stage, barely acknowledging the crowd. The stereotypically cheesy emcee introduced the next dancer, Amber, as she pranced onto stage. Barely eighteen, she was wide-eyed and perfectly perky – much more animated than Crystal.
Casey’s brow lifted in appreciation when Amber’s anthem blared over the speaker – “Hot for Teacher” – a classic. At least this girl had good taste in music.
In knee-high socks, pigtails, and a plaid pleated skirt that did nothing to cover her ass, Amber’s naughty schoolgirl schtick was cliche as fuck, but it was working for her. She zeroed in on the frat boys, and they were in insta-love, throwing money at her like they’d printed it in their parents’ basements earlier in the day.
“I’m confused,” Casey said as the song continued. I’ve got it bad… got it bad… got it bad… I’m hot for teacher. “Wouldn’t she be the teacher in this scenario?”
“Whatchu doin’ here, Case?” Sonny asked again, ignoring her joke.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye at the barbecue last night.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the din.
“You weren’t barely there,” he snapped.
Casey had been there. She’d just gotten there late – after the fireworks – and she’d only stayed long enough to officially check “attended Bravo’s traditional pre-deployment barbecue” off her to-do list. She milled around, didn’t say much to anyone, avoided bumping into Eric, and managed to slip out without crying. She’d saved that shit for the ride home.
“I don’t need a fuckin’ lecture,” Sonny added, finally looking at her. “Not from you. Not from anyone.”
“I’m not here to lecture you, Sonn.” Casey turned toward him. “I hate how things between you and the guys ended last night. And with you not coming with us, I just…” She exhaled. “JBAD’s gonna suck without you.”
“Well, you can blame your boyfriend and fuckin’ Lindell for that,” Sonny spat out. “And fuckin’ Bravo One. My own brother… stabbin’ me in the back.”
Casey sighed as Sonny turned back to the stage.
He was wrong.
He did need a lecture, but that wasn’t Casey’s place. And given he was already on shaky ground with… everyone, she wasn’t willing to torpedo their tenuous peace. Besides, Sonny knew he fucked up. Why else would he torch every bridge on his way to becoming mayor of Tantrum Town?
Still, it was hard not to be pissed at him.
Sonny’s punishment was self-inflicted. And his juvenile antics and inability to accept accountability for his own fuck-ups not only meant Bravo would deploy a man short, but it also left her without her best friend at a time when she needed him the most.
JBAD carried ghosts for every frogman, but for Casey, it was more than that. More than ops gone wrong and brothers lost. Her worst memories were buried shallow in the Afghan dirt just waiting to be dug up. And without Eric to lean on, she would need Sonny. Someone who could always make her laugh. Someone she’d already trusted with her deepest wounds.
He tossed back his whiskey and leaned forward, flashing a fistful of fives to lure Amber to his side of the stage.
It almost worked… until she noticed Casey.
Gracefully twirling around the pole, Amber diverted to the front of the stage where the gaggle of businessmen waited, their eyes bulging over her schoolgirl appeal.
Bravo Three sat back in a huff.
“You’re worse than fucking Kryptonite,” he grumbled.
Casey stood and tugged him to his feet, draping his arm over her shoulder.
“C’mon, Superman,” she said. “Let’s go settle your tab.”
*******
“Don’t you fucking dare puke in my car,” Casey warned Sonny as his head lolled toward the open window.
“Might wanna pull over,” he mumbled.
Casey veered off the road – just a few blocks from Sonny’s apartment – and into the parking lot of a public park. It was dark as fucking sin, the streetlamps too weak to cut through the trees.
She had no sooner put her car in park when Sonny threw open the door and stumbled toward a bush. Hunched over, he wretched but managed to keep his liquor down.
Casey winced at the sound. “Just purge,” she said as she kept watch. The last thing Sonny needed was for some bored cop to come along and slap him with a misdemeanor for public intoxication. “You’ll feel better.”
Sonny spit and groaned as he straightened. “And waste all that good booze!? Never. I. Am. Good.”
“Clearly.”
“I didn’t ask for your help, y’know,” he slurred.
“You need someone’s help, though,” Casey replied. “Unless you wanna burn your last Bravo bridge…”
“Bravo’s barely even Bravo now!” he railed, his hands flailing in the air. “Both Clay and Ray are on their way out, Jason’s rolling over for the brass, Lisa didn’t even bother coming to the barbecue. And you…”
Casey approached him, hands on her hips, challenging him. “What about me?”
Sonny took a step back in hesitation. “Well, y’know…”
“No. I don’t know.”
“You’re not the same… not since… Shit, you’ve been MIA all week, Case.”
Casey wanted to push back… argue that she hadn’t changed. But of course, she had. Everything had.
Since her fight with Eric, she couldn’t deny that she felt lost, but she thought she was hiding it well by throwing herself into work. Once Bravo got back from their training rotation in Alaska, Casey filled every spare moment she could find. She volunteered to sub in for one of the Green Team instructors for a day, sat through a full-day language refresher, doubled her workouts, and even ran training sims with Foxtrot… Anything to keep herself busy before they shipped out for deployment.
But wrapped up in her own little world, she had no idea what was going on with Sonny. Or Clay. Or anyone on Bravo.
No wonder Sonny thought she’d abandoned him.
Sonny plopped his ass onto the curb, his head dropping between his knees.
“I’m losing it all,” he rasped. His voice was shot, shredded from his dry heave into the hedges. “And I’m the one who fucked it up, ain’t I?”
Casey’s heart ached for him. It was rare for Sonny to admit fault, and while she wanted to tell him he was right… that he had fucked it up, that Lisa deserved better, and Bravo did, too. But she just couldn’t. She’d already made things hard enough by leaving him in her wake the last week or so.
She knelt in front of him, her hand finding his shoulder.
“You can fix things, Sonny,” she said softly.
His head lifted, and he looked at her for a beat before shaking his head in resignation. “It’s too late. Lisa…” His voice hitched, and he swallowed his words.
“I’m sorry,” Casey whispered, her hand slipping down his arm to squeeze his elbow.
Sonny looked at her again. In the dark, Casey could just make out the glisten in his eyes, the furrow in his brow… the genuine pain in his face. He silently held her gaze, longer than comfortable, the intensity in his expression causing Casey to flush.
Then he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her to him, both of his arms around her, squeezing her tight against his chest. Casey couldn’t help but melt into him, wrapping herself around him in kind.
They stayed that way for a long time, locked together quietly, neither willing to let go until Sonny shuddered out a heavy sigh.
“Your knees fucked yet?” he asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
Casey couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. “Sure as shit are.”
Neither of them let go immediately, but eventually Sonny pulled her tighter and, with a grunt, tried to haul her upright. He got halfway before the booze caught up with him and sent them toppling backward into the bush, laughter spilling out of them as they went down.
Casey rolled off him, clutching her stomach. “Bravo Three, taken out by the hedges,” she cracked.
“Ain’t the first bush I’ve fallen into,” Sonny wheezed between laughs. “Won’t be the last, neither.”
She dragged him to his feet, leaves still tangled in his hair. He leaned heavily against her on the way to her car, but she didn’t mind. He sure as hell had held her up more than once.
“Thanks, little sister,” he mumbled as she shoved him into the passenger seat.
Casey sighed but smiled despite herself. “Don’t call me that, Sonny.”
END