Chapter 12 - The Hidden Motel
We checked into a small motel off the interstate,
miles past the city limits.
The neon sign buzzed loudly in the rain,
casting a flickering pink glow over the parking lot.
The night clerk didn't ask questions.
He took my cash,
handed over a plastic key card,
and went back to watching his small television.
Room 114.
It smelled like old carpet and cleaning chemicals.
But it was clean enough.
More importantly,
it was anonymous.
I locked the door,
sliding the security chain into place.
Megan sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed,
staring at the faded wallpaper.
"It's over for now,"
I said,
dropping the bags on the floor.
"She doesn't know this place exists."
Megan looked up,
a tear spilling over her lashes.
"How long can we live like this,
Jake?"
"Not long,"
I admitted,
sitting beside her.
"Just until I figure out a permanent plan."
"We need a lawyer."
"A real one who handles restraining orders."
She nodded,
exhausted beyond words.
We crawled into the bed,
fully dressed,
holding each other under the thin motel sheets.
May you like
For the first time in weeks,
I felt her body finally relax against mine.
