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It was a time and a half getting back into the car after he heard the first gun shot inside the gas station. He knew something was up with the man in the assless chaps, but it was Florida. He was raised here most of his life. Most things didn't surprise him anymore, human things. Extra-normals still got to him like nothing else did. He saw weird things on the beach all the time. A cowboy wasn't all that bizarre. When Madison came out with Jaws he knew the situation was going to get worse, so he hobbled as fast as he could back into Quinn's car, then dialed the police. Chances are none of them are going to see anything out of the ordinary. He'd just ended the call with the operator when everyone came out and they booked it out of there. He needed to sleep.

By the time they made it to the hotel he could barely keep himself together enough to get into his hotel room. He just took his pain pills, then gingerly laid down in his bed, and went to sleep. He woke the next day with a notification of Claudette about staying preoccupied until tomorrow. There was nothing he could do with a cast on his leg and he needed a break from the Coven, so he was content to stay in his room. He ordered room service for lunch and texted Vashti to see how she was doing. He meant to do it the night before, but he was out before his head hit the pillow. He imagines he's fairing better, since they left before the dust settled after the argument, and he doubts Leviathan won't take advantage of her mental state. On top of paying for this trip, Schmidt might have to get a new beach house too.