Sundown Motel Book Novels & Stories

“They’ll come for us. Damien. The cops. Everyone.” We ditched the SUV at a rundown motel on the highway outskirts. Paid cash. The room smelled of smoke and desperation, perfect for us. The moment the door locked, I slammed her against it. Her legs wrapped around me as I freed my cock and buried it balls-deep in her dripping cunt.

Delia: Just at a little motel by the beach – so cute here! Evelyn: Which hotel? V and I planning a trip, looking for recommendations. Delia: Sunrise Starfish. He can probably afford fancier, though! Evelyn smiles and then goes back into the gas station to ask the attendant for directions. A few minutes later, Evelyn and Ian park in the lot of the Sunrise Starfish, a cute little beach motel with a pool out front. “Wowww,” Ian says, smiling at it. “Can I go swimming?!”

Parking my bike in front, I walked towards the reception. The motel was unsavory and boasted a dozen rooms – each a small space with a single bed with cum stained bed sheets, rusty shower heads, and a stench of sex. Alcohol and cigarette smells hung heavy in the air. Criminals, prostitutes, drug dealers, and spies hung here. It was a common meeting ground for contacts and informants who contributed valuable information for any mission. Bob, the motel owner, was a middle-aged man and loyal as fuck. He could sense my lack of excitement. Stress and tiredness clung to me like a second skin. All I wanted was to be alone and enjoy a drink.

Luckily no insects entered from the cracks of the weathered door whose hinges were rarely oiled. The motel had a slightly lower roof than most buildings he had seen. Last night when he arrived, the whole place was almost pitch black. Only the motel emitted a sparkling light in the distance. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert, the motel and the softness of the bed that had been imagined in his head had made his hands decide to turn the steering wheel to that place. He didn't want to run the risk of making headlines because of a traffic accident.

The silence, the smell, the memories they were suffocating. We drove without speaking, the city giving way to countryside, then to nothing but trees and sky. By the time Damien pulled over, the sun was bleeding into the horizon, casting the world in gold and rust. We stopped at a rundown motel by the edge of a field. One of those places where no one asked questions and everyone looked like they were running from something. As soon as we entered the room, I sank onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion crash over me. Damien leaned against the door, watching me quietly.

The sound of gunfire echoing down streets not unlike this one. They booked a motel on the outskirts of the city. Nothing online. Cash only. A place that didn’t ask questions and didn’t care who slept behind its peeling doors The motel smelled of lemon bleach and ancient cigarette smoke. The wallpaper was peeling in rhythmic curls, like dead skin. The room was small; two narrow beds, a flickering bulb and a window that didn’t fully close. It was a far cry from the glass-walled penthouses of their "new" lives, but it was the only place where the plan felt real.

I squinted and gave the bomb expert a half-smile. "There’s no need to waste time with words.” "Just do your thing, and quick." He nodded and got down to business with his tools. I licked my back teeth. Great. Now of all times I was dying for a smoke. The afternoon in Safrana? It was blazing hot. I had been standing in the blazing sun for what felt like an eternity, and it seemed like the sun was trying to cook me alive.

I just drive. No music, No calls and No destination. I drive until the sun disappears, until I can no longer recognize the sign boards, street lights and people. . Then I pull into a cheap roadside motel. The kind of place where criminals hide. Where there is no crime because no body cares as long as you are paying good money to be quiet. The carpet smells like mould. The wallpaper is peeling in the corners. I pay cash. I don’t want to leave any trails. The room is cold.

I watched the car while standing at the curb until the car disappeared into the river of vehicles. No one from my past will ever know where I am again. *** The Sunset Motel sat on a street that didn’t get much sun. I've been here for twelve days. The wall had thin walls that let in every conversation from neighboring rooms, every argument, every TV show turned up too loud and headboards hitting drywall at two in the morning. But it was perfect. Because I’d chosen it, because no one knew I was here. I packed the few things I’d bought with Richard’s cash over the past week and a half.

Sarah winked mischievously. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the only motel in that area. The motel was a Holliday Inn, with a dimly flickering neon sign. Shanon wouldn't have been able to read it if she hadn't walked closer to the neon sign. The motel was not very big with rooms facing directly onto the parking lot. Almost all the windows were dark and looked scary. Shanon told herself that she would only stay for one night, and there wouldn't be any ghosts in the motel rooms. There were two SUVs parked in the motel yard apart from Stevan's van. The cars had been covered in quite thick snow. Shanon suspected that the SUV had been there since this afternoon because the snow had started