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I look around to try to think of a solution to our problem, but I don’t know where to go.
“There,” my father says, and he points at a dingy hotel at the end of the street.
“Is it safe?”
“Yes,” he replies.
“But I don’t have any money,” I say.
“I do,” he says, looking directly into my eyes.
I nod, despite my reservations. I don’t know where he got the money or who got killed to get it, but right now, our options are thin.
I walk with him to the hotel, ignoring the people who stare, hoping they won’t try to dissuade us from going inside or worse … contact the police.
If I know anything about my father’s dealings, it’s that the police are not your friends. And I’m definitely not up for losing anyone to any kind of prison right now, no matter how much they deserve it.
“In here,” my father says, pointing at a door not at the front of the building.
I frown but still do what he says, and I push open a door and move him inside. He sits down on a chair next to the door while I catch my breath for a second.
“Excuse me, can I help you?”
A man sits behind a tiny desk in front of us.
“Yeah,” my father mutters. “I’m a friend.”
The man narrows his eyes at us. “Blom. You’re back.”
He knows my father?
How often did he come here?
My father clears his throat. “I want to book a room.”
“You’re asking a lot right now.”
My father gets up from the chair, and I help him walk toward the desk. He fishes a wad of cash from his pocket and throws it under the man’s nose. The euro bills are covered in blood.
“I’ll offer you double this time.”
The man picks up the money, carefully checking it before counting it. Then he gazes up at us. “Fine. But only for two days. And I need you to provide a—”
My father smashes down a passport with a name on it that I don’t recognize. But it’s his picture.
“This good?” he asks.
Why does this feel like some back-alley deal?
The man nods, eyeing me down now. “And her?”
“No one will come looking for her,” he says, but then my father puts down some extra cash. “For the trouble.”
The man licks his thin lips and packs the money before shoving it in some type of register underneath the desk. Then he places a key on top and slides it our way. “Door is to the left. Two staircases and two more doors will get you to the main hotel via a side entrance. No need to check in. Just go to the room that’s on your key. Don’t use the elevators, and don’t talk to anyone. Do not mention your names.”
Jesus. What kind of hotel is this?
Not the legal kind, that’s for sure. But I guess it’s better than staying out in the streets.
