– Fuck! Oh, fuck!

I stand up, jerk on the locked stall door a couple times, bang it open and stumble out. The guy is just straightening, the open, now almost empty, bag pinched between his thumb and forefinger. I shuffle toward him, the rest of the bags peeking from my fist.

– Um, that’s mine.

He stands there, a couple inches shorter than me, balding, flashy tasteless clothes, pinkie ring, a bulky upper body that’s settling into his midsection but still powerful around the shoulders. The same build my body is starting to develop. He looks from the bag to me.

– Yours?

– Yeah. So, you know.

I put out my hand.

He points at the bag.

– This?

He points at me.

– Is yours?

I shrug.

– Yeah.

He shakes his head.

– Well.

He reaches for his back pocket.

– Looks like this might be your lucky day.

He pulls out a wallet, shows it to me, and lets it fall open, revealing the LVMPD badge within.

– Except it ain’t.

– You actually staying here?

I squint up at the sign for the Happi Inn Motel as we cross the parking lot it shares with the Jackalope.

– Yeah.

– Place sucks.

I don’t say anything as it kind of goes without saying that a place called the Happi Inn Motel sucks. Besides, I’m busy. I’m wondering if this is it. Did they finally get sick of me fucking up? Have they set me up?

Is this the guy who’s going to kill me?

I get out my room key and the guy puts a hand on my shoulder.

– Wait up, hoss. You got anyone in there? A partner, maybe?

I look at the pavement and shake my head.

– Naw, just me.

– Uh-huh. Well, you go ahead and unlock that door, but don’t open it.