Chapter 165: I feel strange...
"Hey, Rick!" Roger called out, his voice cutting through the lively chatter of the bar. Roderick, seated with his usual crowd, raised an eyebrow in response. With a sigh, he excused himself and strode over to Roger. "What do you want? Did my uncle send you here?" Roderick asked, his tone laced with impatience.
Roger shook his head. "No. The boss doesn’t even know I’m here. Listen, send Sylvia home. Make sure she gets there safely," he said, nodding toward a corner where Sylvia sat slouched on a couch, her eyes closed.
Roderick let out a derisive snicker. "What do I look like, her chauffeur? Do it yourself," he shot back, turning on his heel to rejoin his friends.
Roger rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. Of course, it was up to him. Why did his conscience always compel him to look out for the very people he disliked the most? Glancing back at Sylvia, he saw her shift slightly, looking as if she might pass out. With a resigned sigh, he approached her.
"Sylvia, let’s get you home," he said gently, leaning down.
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. "You’re bothering me," she murmured, attempting to brush him off. But as she rose unsteadily to her feet, her balance wavered. Instinctively, she gripped Roger’s arm for support.
"Yeah, yeah," Roger muttered, wrapping a steadying arm around her. "Let’s go before you pass out here." He guided her out of the bar, vowing to himself that this would be the last time he played this babysitter role. He cursed himself for coming to this bar.
Roger flagged down a taxi and opened the door for Sylvia, helping her sit down first before climbing in after her. He gave the driver the address, and the car pulled away, the streetlights flashing by in a blur.