I can’t go back inside. They’d scream, and then Rouge would find me.
But I’m wearing next to nothing. I came here in a trench coat, but Bianca threw that in her dressing room once we got to Aces.
More importantly, I don’t have my phone or my wallet.
I can’t call an Uber. Can’t even pay for a cab.
All I have on me is this extremely tight, extremely small pair of black shorts.
It’s March. Mid-March.
The seventeenth of March. St. Patrick’s Day.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
It’s not too cold outside, but it’s not exactly balmy either.
We took Bianca’s car. She has a reserved spot in the Aces parking garage, and my Cadillac is a little too conspicuous for us to have brought it. I’m sure Chet and Rouge know everything about me, and they’d be able to figure out something was up if they saw my vehicle parked in Bianca’s spot.
Bianca’s face was sheet white when she emerged from the crawlspace.
Whatever she found back there has her fucking haunted. And she wanted me to get out of Aces as quickly as humanly possible.
Will she be okay?
I want nothing more than to go back through to Aces and make sure she’s all right. I can’t even text her without my phone.
Fuck fuck fuck.
But I can’t go back through the waitstaff entrance. And I certainly won’t get past Chet in the patron entrance.
That’s not what Bianca wants anyway. She clearly thinks I’m in danger if I stay here.
The best thing I can do is figure out how the hell I’m getting home and then contact her from there. We’ll regroup and she can finally tell me what exactly she found in that hidden area above the ladies’ toilets.
Now it’s time to think.
I’m nearly naked. No phone, no wallet, no keys.
What’s my next move?
I’m not too far from St. Charles. It’s a brisk walk from here.
Particularly brisk since I’m essentially in my underwear.
I open the door that leads to the alleyway off the main one we normally take into Aces. I’m barefoot, of fucking course. So I have to avoid the small stones and broken shards of glass that litter the alleyway. Once I’m on the actual streets, it’s a little smoother.
But now people are staring at me.
I pay them no mind. I keep my eyes forward and head toward the hospital.
This is Chicago. I’m not the first weirdo who’s wandered the streets in next to nothing. At least the good bits are covered up. I won’t be arrested for public indecency.
God willing no one who sees me will recognize me.
The last thing I need is this getting back to the higher-ups at the hospital. If they received word that one of their doctors was spotted wandering the city wearing nothing but a tiny pair of booty shorts, I’d be looking for another job. They’d think I was drunk or strung out.
But it doesn’t matter if someone does see me. I’d give up my whole career and all the perks that come with it to help Bianca.
