Tony knocked on the motel door tentatively, his knuckles rapping softly against the faded wood. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to glance at his watch. Every second spent lingering here felt like an invitation for trouble.
Earlier that morning, he had received the message—passed discreetly through his girlfriend, who worked at a small restaurant. His job was simple: deliver the message and disappear.
He still had to report to the pizza parlour afterward. The renovations were finally complete, and the place was buzzing with activity. The ladies had taken charge of transforming the space into something elegant enough for the upcoming engagement party. It was a welcome distraction from the darker errands he often found himself running.
