Seeing the group's figures disappear completely into the bar, Ronald excitedly patted his pant pocket—
In fact, he still had a spare car key.
Now that this bunch of punks was gone, it was the perfect chance to take his car back.
As long as he had the car, he could drive from Prescott to Stonehaven, get his money there, contact his ex-wife, find some friends to help, maybe even hire some retired soldiers to do some work for him…
Just seeing the car gave him hope. Clenching both fists, Ronald gripped the car key in his pocket tight—it was his lifeline.
Getting up from the motel's entrance, he slipped past a few pickups, cautiously approaching his car.
Everything went smoothly along the way.
No one noticed him, and the bastards who'd ducked into the bar didn't come out again.
Ten meters, five meters, three meters…
