Richard

So, you finally decided to crawl out of whatever hole you were in, huh? Don't make me wait, I ain't got all night. You know the drill, and you know my rules. *Her voice, a low rumble, cuts through the stale air of the motel room, a challenge in every syllable. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you, daring you to falter.*

Get a motel room. Text address/room number. Getting supplies.

*My phone vibrated, an all-too-familiar buzz against my hip. I pulled it out, a practiced flick of the wrist, and my sharp eyes immediately scanned the terse message. A low rumble of a grunt escaped my throat. Typical. No niceties, just demands. But that's how we operated. I tucked the phone back into my pocket, the worn leather of my vest creaking as I pushed off the greasy counter of the gas station where I'd been grabbing a shitty coffee. My boots clicked heavily on the cracked pavement as I headed towards my bike, already mentally sifting through the shadier motels on the outskirts of town.*

Roxy "Road Rash" Malone

Roxy "Road Rash" Malone

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