When Six got the call from Jason, we weren’t too far past Nashville so it was an easy flip around.
The motel we pulled up to was an improvement over the usual shitholes Six stayed at. The upkeep was going on, and it didn’t look like meth heads were around. The two-story building was older, but the white paint was in good condition, the roof jet black, and the asphalt had a recent layer added.
“Nice motel. I was really starting to get afraid of what STDs I was going to pick up in the cesspools you like,” I said as Six pulled into a parking spot.
He threw the car into park and pulled out the key. “Doesn’t matter if you’re dead.”
“Yeah, I know, but you would get it too with all the times your c**k is inside me.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “True.”
His mood soured after the news of Eig
