Kelli Morris<br/>Toll Road<br/><br/>Taking the bills, she folds them with one hand and slips them into her bar.  Her eyes scan the approaching toll entrance picking out one of the pay lanes; she pulls in behind a pickup truck.  She checks her seatbelt, making sure it is secure, and then digs out a handful of change, counting out $1.25 in quarters for the toll.<br/><br/>She was still unsure about Tom, originally thinking he was a ‘wannabe gangster’, but he sure wasn’t scared to use his gun when the need arose.  He had people, but just much influence did he or they have.  He was defently a step or two above those who wanted to play gangster.<br/>Well her first order of business now was to get him to the double tree safely, if she could that, chances were good there would be other jobs.<br/><br/>Quickly rehearsing a story in her head: my bf, drunk, thought he could beat up two bikers, taking him home to his mom.  If she needed more, then it was probably time to hit the gas and run for it.  The bad thing about toll roads, she thinks, the only place you can get off is at the exits.<br/><br/>The pickup in front of her pulls up to the booth, she slowly rolls up behind it, rolling her window down as she takes a slow deep breath, letting it out slowly.<br/>