Miss Morgan

Ten

October 1887
-Karen-

I secure a final pin in my hair and glance over my appearance in the full length mirror. My dress is lavender with white ruffles on the sleeves and it hugs every curve of my body beautifully. It leaves just enough to the imagination.

My hair is neat, but it's too neat. I pull a couple strands loose and smear my lipstick just a bit and now it's perfect.

I grab a half drank bottle of whiskey from my nightstand and step out into the hallway of the hotel.

"Hello there miss." The clerk greets me and I notice his eyes linger a bit to long on my chest Even though it's gross, I know I look just right.

"Hel-lot toya too." I fake slur in a grumbly tone before I fake stumble out the door and into the street. I stagger my way to the saloon.

The Stillwater Saloon is full of bastards who are probably too drunk to even know their own name this late at night. I take a breath and let loose. "THAT NO GOOD CHEATIN' SON OF A BITCH!" I yell over the crowd. Some look up at me, others don't even know what's happening. "WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS HE?!"

"Calm down miss, what's the matter?" One man questions me and I grab the collar of his jacket and yank him close so he can smell the whiskey on my breath. His black hair is slicked back and his clothes are well-kept. He holds a cigar in one hand while his bottle of bourbon sits on the counter barely touched. He looks like he could have money but he definitely isn't drunk enough.

"HE'S CHEATIN' ON ME, I HAVE HALF THE MIND TO DO THE SAME! I'LL SHOW HIM HOW IT FEELS, I WILL!" I shove the man away as I keep yelling over the crowd and now I know they're listening.

I stumble around the saloon and wrap my arm around another man that's barely conscious, he's so drunk. His clothes are in tatters and it looks like he spent every last penny to his name on the empty bottle of rum in his grasp.

As I continue my rampage, a firm hand misses my shoulder at first before grabbing me to turn me around. "PerhappsI may beuh of assssistance miss." A scummy man slurs. I look him up and down, his hand still rests on my shoulder. He's wearing an expensive navy suit and his tie is sloppily coming undone. I can smell the whiskey lingering on his breath and I let him lead me back to his room up stairs as I yell over the crowd, "SEE EVERYONE, THIS IS A REAL MAN RIGHT HERE!"

Got him.

He closes the door behind us and he turns his back to me to start undressing. I wait till he tries pulling his leg out of his pants and when he wobbles a bit I shove him to the ground, making sure he bashes his head on the nightstand and just like that he's unconscious. I quickly ransack his bags and pockets and steal all his money and valuables, and even his pack of cigarettes.

I mess up my hair and makeup some more and make some loud moaning and thumping sounds in case anyone heard the crash for a bit before I leave the room. I look out the door and let out a breath when no one is nearby.

I light a cigarette as I walk down the stairs and keep my head down as I walk through the saloon. I do ash my cigarette in the tattered man's empty rum bottle on my way out, just for the hell of it.

I step out into the cold night air and scurry towards my hotel but then I'm stopped in my tracks.

"That was quite the show." A gravelly voice speaks in a low tone behind me.

Shit. "I don't know what you're talkin' about." I mutter quietly.

"Oh, so you didn't just pretend to be a drunken harlot to get an even drunker bastard to take you to his room so you could steal all his valuables?"