Read Stripped Down for Free Online Page B

stuffed cat, Cookie, and broke through the emotion of the moment.
    “Mommy?” CiCi looked up at me with her soft, brown eyes. “Ready?”
    “Sure. Did you fold up your pajamas and brush your teeth like Nanny said?”
    She nodded right before she skipped across the room and hugged Mom’s thighs. “Thank you, Nanny. See you tonight.” She turned to me and grabbed my hand, her pudgy fingers wrapping around mine. “Come on, Mommy. Grandpa said, if I clean my bedroom, I can help him paint his plane before bed.” She grinned up at me, her six-year-old excitement apparently stronger than her hatred for putting her toys away.
    I said goodbye to Mom, told her to kiss Dad for me, and let CiCi lead me out of the house. CiCi’s desire to get home so she could eventually help Dad reminded me why I had given what cash I had spare to my mom to buy the model plane kit. Sure, if I hadn’t, I’d probably have been able to afford the new Frozen bike she’d begged for after she’d outgrown the last by now, but the memories of her with Dad would last longer than a bike.
    Besides, the bike would still be in the store in six months. There was no guarantee the same could be said for Dad.
    “Mommy, can I paint when we get home?”
    “Sure. When you’ve cleaned your room like you promised Grandpa.”
    “Okay. That’s fair. Can I have some chips? I’m hungry.”
    “Chips then clean your room. Is that a deal?”
    “Deal.”
    I looked down. She was swinging our hands between us, Cookie the Cat tucked tight beneath her arm. Innocence radiated off her like she was a beacon for it, as if all the goodness in the world would be drawn to her purity.
    I knew otherwise. I knew that the darkness of the world would be drawn to it, and it would destroy her. Especially in this city. It wasn’t Sin City for nothing—I saw the dark underbelly of the bright lights and laughter-filled gambles every time I walked through the doors of The Landing Strip.
    Maybe that was it. Maybe it was why I needed to leave, why I kept kidding myself that one day I’d afford her Frozen bike, even though the truth was far from that. Maybe it was why I kept kidding myself that we could only just afford to live and skipped some meals, yet my savings account nobody knew about was slowly growing.
    Ten dollars here. Five there. Twenty on a good day. Fifty after a good private dance.
    The Escape Fund, I called it. The Get The Fuck Out Of Dodge Fund.
    We could afford to live.
    I just didn’t want to live in Vegas.
     
     

 
    I kissed CiCi on the head as she ran into the back room to be with Dad. The day had passed in a whirl of questions. Which Barbie head belonged to this body? Where was Ken’s shirt? Why did Barbie have no clothes? Where was the dolly’s diaper?
    And mine: Why were all of the tiny plastic people naked?
    Eventually, the crisis was averted. We located Ken’s shirt, Barbie’s clothes, and the dolly’s diaper, and we got the heads on the right bodies... Or close enough. Their boobs are all the same, so there’s no logical way to tell them apart when their heads are strewn across the floor.
    I needed to add that to the star chart: Don’t pull off Barbie’s head. Any of them. And stop getting them all naked.
    After a quick hug with my mom, I blew my dad a kiss and turned around. The walk to the Strip wasn’t far, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, but it was almost excruciating in the high summer heat. The horrid, hot air swarmed around me until I stopped at the end of the block, bit my guilt back, and called a cab.
    It got me to The Landing Strip much quicker. The leery stares the driver shot me the entire time made my skin crawl and me remember that I really have to ask for a female driver in the future. The saddest part was, if I’d said that I was going to Rock Solid, the male club next door, he wouldn’t have said a damn thing, would he?
    No.
    I wanted to kick his chair the entire time. This job wasn’t a choice—not one I’d freely made,