Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, only the story!
She swayed slightly on her feet as she twirled a 25-cent coin through her fingers, staring up at the bigger than life replica standing in front of her, her eyes falling down to the slot machine at the bottom of it before flickering up again, her gaze fixating on the sign that blinked vividly, making her vision blur as she kept staring at it.
One million dollars. She could win one million dollars with only one dollar.
She leaned against the wall, feeling her knees getting weak. She had gotten herself drunk by charming some men at bars all across the city, disappearing after the first two drinks, telling them she needed to use the washrooms and never showing up again.
She was hammered. Seriously sloshed.
That might be the reason that she reached into the pocket of her jeans and dug out her last coins. Four 25-cent coins. Her last money.
Her eyes came back to the replica and she squinted her eyes, trying to make out who the replica was supposed to represent, her vision doubling and she closed her eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath before opening them again.
Fortunately she only saw one replica now and not two, being finally able to recognize the figure, a laughter bubbling up in her but she was able to suppress it. It would have only attracted people to her presence since it would have come out more hysterical than anything else.
Robbing from the rich, giving to the poor.
Maybe it was fate. Maybe she was supposed to end up here. With her last dollar. No way out. At the end of her rope.
If she had been sober she would have probably not slid the coins into the machine, knowing the odds were against her and the house always won.
But this was Sin City and maybe she had paid enough for her sins. Maybe for once she would be lucky and not haunted by misfortune.
Her fingers were shaking as she slipped the coins in, one by one, hesitating only slightly as she pulled the ledger at the side. Staring at the rolling symbols in front of her, she bit her tongue as the movement increased the queasiness in her stomach, her breath hitching in her throat as the first symbol stopped on a dollar sign. Waiting for the second symbol, she dug her nails into her palms, her head starting to swirl as the second one also stopped on a dollar sign. She halted her breath, willing the third one to stop at the right symbol too.
But it didn't.
No, no, no!
She wanted to hit the machine. Just wanted to hit something.
She staggered back, feeling her vision closing in. Her stomach clenched, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything today and she reached for the wall but was too far away. She couldn't keep herself upright, her knees smashing against the floor as she fell, dark spots appearing in front of her eyes, the world spinning around her and she felt the carpet scratch over her cheek as she dropped forward, darkness overwhelming her and pulling her under.
"What should we do with her, Mr. Locksley?"
Robin looked down at the woman sprawled over the chair, something about her reaching deep inside of him, and he gulped hard as he studied her features. The heavy make-up, the ruffled hair, and he let his gaze roam over the lean form down to her legs and up again, wondering what her eyes might look like.
He had always listened to his gut, and his gut was telling him to not let that woman walk out of his life.
"Bring her up to my rooms."