this morning #1124.

this morning, we were tearing his place apart trying to find where he’d hidden the stash. searching the joint from stem to stern. i know that we have a few hours until his lady discovers what’s happened to him & comes to collect. if we can’t locate the loot before she shows up, we’re screwed. damn. why did we think he should be the one to hold onto our earnings? poor choice on our part. damn. is it hot in here? it feels hot in here. sweat was starting to seeping through. i took my t-shirt off. tossed it to the side. shut my eyes. tried to think like him, a guy in his twenties who personified paranoia. how do we even know he kept the cash? if he did spend it, it’d explain a lot about what went down earlier.