In the End

32│As Good as Any Hacker

Three Months Later

Frantically, I pressed the numbers into the phone again.

I didn't have much time, not before someone came looking for me. I had tucked myself away in the corner of the Casino's bottom floor.

For some reason, no one ever used this phone. But I thanked my stars that they didn't. All it meant was when I had a spare moment, I could jump on and try and make some contact.

I was locked in this Casino and had been ever since I arrived two months ago. I wasn't even entirely sure where I was, though if I had to place my bets, I would say I'm somewhere in Florida. The thought of being so far away from my lifeline was frightening, but I held hope. I knew there had to be at least some way to make contact with Luciano, or at the very least, another member of the Mafia.

However, after months of trying, I still had no luck.

The tassels of my outfit shimmied as I moved. I could have killed Micah then and there when he handed me this outfit, a bra and panties covered in jewelled chains about three inches long.

"Come on, Come on, Come on," I whispered as the phone started to ring. Maybe this time-

The phone started to beep, causing me to let out a long sigh. No matter how much i wished for it, the damned phone never connected through. I had no clue how my luck ended up like that.

I suppose Luciano was stuck believing I'm dead for just a little longer.

I shoved the phone back in against the wall before heading back out on the floor. Unlike Micah had threatened, here I was, back waitressing. Though, never before in all my years had I had to wear a uniform quite like this one.

I had once seen waitressing as a means of escape. I wouldn't be tied to the poles or customers, meaning that a quick runaway would be easier than I had originally thought. But no, that didn't seem to be the case at all. I was tied to the customers, not only the ones that drank themselves half to death but the ones scattered across the casino throwing their money away.

Perhaps it would be alright if I could at least keep the tips.

As I moved back over to the bar to refill my plate of drinks, my legs twinged. Somehow, I had managed to get them to heal. Or at least, heal enough so that I could walk without an overly obvious limp. I figured that my biggest issue would just be learning how to properly walk in heels again, but no. Even now, barely an inch off the ground, my left leg which seemed to have been damaged worse would begin to practically swell up with pain.

A bartender whose name I hadn't bothered to learn stacked my plate up with drinks. I remembered where to go with most of them, though keeping my limp hidden was of a bigger priority than getting everyone's drink to them within the minute.

Thankfully though, as I walked, the pain evened itself out, returning to a dull ache and allowing me to get back to work. The massive scars on my legs were an effort to keep hidden, not only from the customers but the fellow workers. I had figured out the majority didn't even know that the type of casino they were working in was allying themselves with a mafia and were acting as a front and an assist in their crimes. I had definitely managed to figure out that a worker who had suddenly turned up out of the blue during what I had found out was a no-hiring period with two massive scars running over her calves was a reason for suspicion.

Playing the part of another person was easy, but playing someone who wasn't in any way injured? Just a little harder.

But that doesn't really matter, not when I have bigger priorities.

Flittering around the club with a smile on my face was all a lie, inside, my mind was a whir. I hadn't had any success, not when trying to get in contact with anyone from home and all of my lacklustre attempts of escape had ended about as successfully as one could imagine, made unbearably evident by the fact that I was still here.