CHAPTER FOUTEEN - THE PLOT THICKENS

The sunrise was not that spectacular for Molly Dean as she learned overnight that her estranged husband was not dead.

“That damn man has more lives than a fucking cat,” she said to Shorty. “I told you to shoot him in the head, you damn fool, but you got cold feet as you heard the siren and ran.”

Shorty replied, stuttering with irritation, “W-w-what are we going to do now?”

“We?” Molly replied and stared at him, “You mean you? I’m not going back near that man.”

She pulled the sheet off of Shorty to reveal his pink brief and hairy legs.

“By the way, I’m not coming back to this shitty hotel, if you can’t take me home, you won’t be having any more of this.”