Cade always had a list. It contained all the famous attractions he wanted to check out in each city he visited, along with some of the more…eclectic options he’d heard rumors of. For mainstream LA, he had Hollywood, Griffith Park, Universal, the Getty Center, Santa Monica Pier, and a bunch of other tourist traps that had been the feature of many a movie or TV show. He would visit these places in quick succession, staying just long enough to see if they were really worth the time and effort. Usually, the answer was no, they weren’t. But a few places along his endless trip to nowhere had surprised him. He had, on occasion, enjoyed himself for the same reasons that had made these places famous in the first place.

Generally though, it was the underbelly of a city that held the real attractions. The cozy diners with regulars. The low-key art galleries in rundown warehouses. The underground parties with up-and-coming DJs. The beaches at night. Cade found something in those sorts of places, some kind of commiseration, like he and the usual attendees were cast from the same mold. They made him feel welcome for a time, instead of like an outsider.

None of these places would keep him in LA though. Nothing ever forged a real bond.

His interest would fade, as it always did, and he would leave by the end of the week.

What was his next stop? He had no clue. Maybe San Francisco. Maybe somewhere else. He’d pick the top two choices and flip a coin, like usual, when the time came to decide.

For now though, Cade coasted through the last intersection on his trip to a motel he’d looked up when he stopped to refuel on his way into the city proper. It was nothing special. A nice, quiet, anonymous sort of place. Decent rates for a big-city motel in a neighborhood that wasn’t overly dangerous.

The motel came into view as he passed a slightly taller building, two stories of drab gray paint and concrete stairs and rusted railings. Cade signaled for a left turn, waited for a break in the dense, midday traffic, and headed into the parking lot. Most of the spots were empty, so he picked the one closest to the reception office at the far end of the building, parked, cut the engine, and tucked the key into his pocket.

He strode over to the reception office and knocked on the door. The portly older man at the desk walked over and unlocked the door, opening it a crack. “You looking to rent, son?”

“Yes, sir. You got a single for”—he calculated how long he needed to stay in the city to make it through his list—“four nights?”

The man nodded, and opened the door fully, ushering Cade inside. “Sure, sure. I got a couple open on the second floor. You want to pay cash or card?”

“Cash, please.” Cade preferred to pay in cash, just in case his father tried to track him down through electronic means. His dad knew a lot of people who could bend the rules. “How much will that be?”

The man rattled off a number, and Cade pulled out the requisite bills and handed them over. After counting the money, the man ducked under his desk, rummaged around for a minute, and then popped back up with a metal key in his hand. Place was so ancient it didn’t even use keycards. Not that Cade minded a touch of old school. He accepted the key with a faint smile and said, “Thanks. Is it ready now?”

“Sure is. Cleaning came through this morning. You’re good to go. It’s 202, right near the stairs there.” He pointed to the concrete stairs leading up. “Let me know if you have any problems. ACs crap out a lot this time of year.”

“Will do.” Cade exited the office and went to grab his things from his bike. He didn’t carry much with him, as a matter of necessity. He brought only what would fit in his saddlebags and tunnel bag. A few changes of clothes, the essential toiletries, a couple towels and washcloths, a few snacks and bottles of water, first-aid supplies, etc. He collected everything he needed for his stay at the motel and then climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Entering the room, he tossed all his belongings on a small table in the corner and then sprawled out across the bed. Kicking off his shoes, he checked his phone and decided he had plenty of time to grab a nap before he started exploring the city in the early evening. He set an alarm, giving himself an hour of shut-eye, dropped his keys, glasses, and phone on the nightstand, and buried his face in the thin pillow.

Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come. As soon as he closed his eyes, a loud truck trundled down the street. Then a car backfired—either that, or someone got shot. Then two people down the street got into a shouting match.

Cade was thinking about digging around in his toiletries bag for his earplugs when his stomach started bothering him. He had never stopped to eat his crappy lunch from the convenience store in Jean, just in case somebody came looking for him after his altercation with the drunk. He could’ve eaten at the gas station, but he hadn’t been overly hungry then.

Annoyed, Cade tried to ignore the empty stomach. But then it growled at him. Loudly.

With a sigh, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his phone. He only had fifteen minutes left for his nap anyway. Might as well get up now and go grab some dinner.

He sat up, stretched to work out the kinks from his long ride, and shoved his feet back into his shoes. He gathered up his essentials and then made his way over to the door. He hauled the door open with more than an ounce of irritation, unhappy with the way LA had treated him so far. He swung himself around the doorframe, out onto the landing, yanking the door closed behind him—

And something that felt distinctly like a person’s face rammed into his chest.