The color drains from Dr.O’Rourke’s face.“Sorry,that’sRouge Montrose?The woman in that getup?”
“Yes.Do you know her?”
Dr.O’Rourke scratches at the back of his neck.“I’ve never seen her outside the club.I assume she wears normal attire when she’s out and about, and I don’t think Maddox has ever mentioned her name.”
“Then why did you have such an intense reaction to her name?Do you know her from somewhere else?”
Dr.O’Rourke nods.“Yes, I do.Rouge Montrose—or at least someone who goes by that name—sits on the board of this very hospital.”
11
MADDOX
Icollapse onto my couch the second I get home.
I could take a nap.I maybe got four hours of sleep last night.I could definitely use some extra shuteye.
But right now, I’m not tired.
Not true.I’m exhausted.But I’m not sleepy.
I’m wired.Like I just drank ten cups of coffee.
Just when I think I’m feeling normal again, the cold, dead eyes of May staring blankly at me from the hatbox pop back into my mind.
I don’t know how long Bill will take to get us some answers.
Could take a day.Could take weeks.He’s going to have to do it under the table, after all.We can’t risk Rouge finding out.
Either way, it’s out of my hands for now.
I just have to pray that a band of Rouge’s Kings doesn’t show up and gun me down in the meantime.
No wonder I’m so restless.
I take out my phone.Open Instagram.
I don’t have a personal account, but I have one for the haberdashery.I use it to follow all my friends’ accounts.I scroll down, browsing the images the algorithm has chosen to display for me this evening.Then I switch to Facebook.To Twitter.Then back to Insta.
I put my phone down.I’m doing exactly what these social media companies want me to do.Get caught in a loop, endlessly devouring content in little bursts of dopamine, in hopes that I’ll click on an ad and generate some revenue.
Alissa wants to meet up on Thursday.It’s Monday afternoon.That’s three whole days before I’ll see her again.
Of course, I can always have her over at night, provided the hospital isn’t making her work the graveyard shift.
I’ve gone and gotten myself hooked on Alissa.
I’m addicted to her.I crave nothing but her.All I’ll be able to think about over the next few days is when I’ll get my next fix.
I had three nights in a row with her.Four nights, if you count that chance meeting when she walked into my shop on a whim.
God, how many lifetimes ago was that?
She walked into my shop last Thursday, and by Sunday we were unearthing the body parts of the woman who served us on Friday and Saturday.
Fuck.
The whole thing should make my stomach twist, but I’ve become numb.
