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Dazzlers was also behind the sale of several underage women to wealthy clientele, possibly against the will of said women.
Tears swam unbidden in my eyes, and before I’d reached the end of the article, they were pouring down my face. Rage threatened to knock my legs out from under me, and I steadied myself against a large faux-marble pillar to stop myself from collapsing.
Jesus Christ. I’d known that Dazzlers was involved in shady shit. Every Vegas casino had a hand in some dirty pot. Despite my recently defunct status as a virgin, I wasn’t naïve — I wasn’t under the impression that I was working for some sort of charity.
But this… well for fuck’s sake, this was way, way, way over the line between shifty business practices and outright evil. How could I have been so blind?!
Of course Tate wasn’t a good guy, I mean, I should’ve known. Like I said, nobody gets that rich without pulling some truly horrendous shit. He’d charmed me with his “woe is me” tale, his dad who had reminded me so much of my own, but when the curtain was pulled back, Tate was just like the rest — a total asshole. I was willing to believe that he didn’t know everything that went on in his casino, but he had to have been aware of at least some small portion of this.
I wiped away another tear that escaped down my cheek.
Fuck, I had to go into work tomorrow! I had to go into work, and see Tate, this awful man who’d fooled me into giving up my virginity — for free, I might add — on the grounds that he was the genuine article. More than anything, I was pissed that I’d been so easily tricked. Maybe all these years in this gruesome town really had taught me nothing.
I was, fundamentally, disappointed in myself, and it was a shame I knew would haunt me for years to come.
Nevertheless, I had to go into work tomorrow, at least for the day. But I wouldn’t talk to Tate again, that was for certain. Anything between us had dissipated the moment I laid eyes on that horror of an article.
In a haze of anger and self-flagellation, I stumbled to my Jeep, just wanting to get home, to forget these past few weeks and retreat to a time when life wasn’t so fucking complicated. I couldn’t remember such a time, sure, but still…
I was on the road in a few minutes, driving like a woman possessed. It probably would’ve been in my best interest to just pull over, blow my nose, and take a breather, but there are times when you have to let your rage out on the road, really press the pedal down and stick your hand out the window and blast some punk rock.
It took me fifteen minutes to make a twenty-five minute journey. I’m not sure how I avoided getting flagged by the cops. Maybe that’s my one stroke of good luck today, I thought sardonically. Though I think I’d prefer never having seen that article.
I turned off the engine, got out of the Jeep and walked to the front door, jangling my keys in the lock.
“You home?” I called.
I looked around for my dad. It was about the time of day when he’d stumble in for some sleep.
His armchair was empty. Great. He was back at the casino.
There was nothing left to do. I walked to my room and, without even bothering to remove my coat, I laid down on the bed and cried.
CHAPTER 25
Tate
IT WAS THREE in the afternoon and there was no sign of her.
I checked my watch again. Was it possible it was fast? It was an expensive timepiece, but maybe the thing had gone out of whack.
I pulled out my phone.
Much to my chagrin, the watch hadn’t lied. It was, indeed, three, and there was no sign of Kiki.
She’s never late.
The thought crossed my mind unbidden, but I knew it to be true. In the week or so I’d hung around her work area like a lovesick puppy, I’d come to realize she was consistently prompt. If I hadn’t been so busy mooning after her, perhaps as a boss I might’ve appreciated her timeliness.
Kiki had a shift scheduled for three today, and it was now one minute past the hour and she was nowhere in sight. I hung to the back, shielded enough by various bright lights that I would go unrecognized by close enough to her home station that I wouldn’t miss Kiki if she walked in, even through crowds of people.
Though crowds weren’t exactly a problem today, not by a long shot.
When that article had dropped last night, I’d known that things might get bad. The allegations, as far as I knew, were wildly untrue, but the moment something goes viral, people swallow it as fact. I was a big believer in the veracity of news outlets, but the “article” had come from a gossip rag, nothing more than an overblown Instagram account with purchased followers, the kind of company that was sued all the time. In between screaming with frustration over the falsehoods in the piece, I was forced to wonder how they possibly kept their head above water with the various court fees they inevitably paid.
