Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
His face doesn’t even twitch.
“Credit card or a hundred plus a hundred and fifty cash deposit.”
“Can’t put it on my card because my fiancée might find out. Damn. One hundred and fifty deposit?”
Nothing.
“Okay. Okay. I think I can do that. Got some cash.”
I count out the money and put it on the counter.
“I’ll need to see a driver’s license.”
I look at him square but throw in an innocent half smile.
“How about another fifty so I don’t have to do that? I got a job where I can’t let something like this come back and bite me.”
He contemplates.
“Hundred.”
I look in my wallet.
“All I got is eighty,” I lie.
An upward nod, which I take as a yes.
“Mind making that on the bottom floor? Might not make it up your stairs.”
He scans the wall that has all the keys hanging on hooks next to room numbers. He hands me the key for room 110.
I drop four twenties on the counter.
“Thank you, compadre.”
“I’m not Mexican.”
“I know. Just being friendly.” I slur my words.
“No smoking,” he orders.
I walk out and follow the same path as Diamond and Biddy. I pass Biddy’s room, notice through the curtained window he’s got a light on. Hear the television muffled through the front door. Walk a couple doors past his room to my room, unlock it, and enter.
Smells stale, like mold. Who knows what the fuck I’d see splattered over the bed if I had a black light? At the very least there’ll be bedbugs. But I don’t intend on sleeping, so who cares? I peek through the curtains and across the parking lot toward the front office. All that’s visible is the office door with its four glass panels, and I don’t think the old man is paying much attention anyway.
I notice a smoke alarm on the wall above the thermostat. After I put my pack down I walk to it, reach up, and remove the battery. I find a drinking glass in the bathroom, return to check the armchair cushion before I sit. Light a smoke. I try to figure how I’m going to do this, and judging by Biddy’s physical stature, I know I won’t have to go hard. There won’t be a problem putting him down. But I don’t want to go hard, maybe just nudge him a little bit.
I snort up the contents of a couple of capsules, get my mind right, find my handcuffs in the pack, and slip them through the belt at the small of my back. I pick up the pack and walk out the door.
Light’s still on in his room.