Rise
Dropping the bag on the bed I looked around the motel room. Dingy was perhaps the only way to describe the room. The ‘no-tell’ motel was just off the highway. It was the kind of place where most of the patrons paid in cash and stayed for an hour, maybe two. In other words, the perfect place to lay low until I could find something better.
I dug through my pack and pulled out some jewelry pieces I'd made. They wouldn't sell for too much, but then again I only needed a small stake to get me started. For the last month, in between monitoring the club and waiting out school, I had been taking care to shut up the house.
That afternoon I left the motel and visited a nearby pawn shop for a bit of haggling and a bullshit story about how the pieces had been in my family for generations. In t
