On the first day, Jax spread towels on the hard love seat, making a barrier between his body and the shiny striped fabric he knew wasn’t really clean. He’d learned from YouTube that hotel rooms were literally covered in semen. A black light panned around the room would reveal livid green spots on the bedspreads, upholstery, walls—even on the ceiling. (“How?” he hadn’t dared to Google. “Why?”)