Sean hurriedly stuffed his things in the duffle bag. Quietly but swiftly, making sure he didn't wake anyone. It was one in the morning and everyone had turned in a few hours ago. Sean couldn't risk packing too early and someone coming downstairs, for whatever reason, and catching him in the act.
He tip toed to the kitchen and grabbed a few snacks from the counter; stuff that had barely been eaten. He knew how Snake felt about junk food, and how rarely he or anyone else in the house ate chips or candy bars. Except when Manny visited. Sean would have to be completely prepared with everything; clothing, food…money.
"Oh God," he whispered after coming to the realization. He'd need money; to find a place, get out of town. And he'd remembered seeing Simpson carelessly leave his wallet on the coffee table that evening. Credit cards, dollar bills; all were at his disposal.
But wait, he couldn't steal from Simpson, he might've been the closest thing to a father he's ever had. He took him in, fed him, treated him like he was his own no matter how many times he screwed up. Simpson knew the truth as soon as he arrived at his doorstep, but despite what he knew, he took him in anyway. He couldn't steal from Mr. S…but how else would he get the money?
Simpson would understand, right?
Just when Sean thought to grab for the wallet, that's when he heard the footsteps.
"Sean?" he heard her faint voice call. It was Emma.
…
"Great plan, leave Ajax at eleven and can't see a damn thing at one in the morning. Good going" the girl said as she winced to see the dark road. The headlights weren't much help; she was driving an old Cadillac that hadn't seen the open road in ages. Courtesy of the back lot of her cousin's restaurant. The headlights were fading and so was her view of the road. But luckily, streetlights were coming into view, which meant she was probably getting closer into town. It was way too late to make the stop she wanted to make, so she'd probably just check-in to a motel for the night.
…
"Just one, one of me. Just for the night,"
"Reservation under the name?" the woman at the front desk asked plainly.
"Nunez. Alex Nunez." The girl smiled.