“Marnie told me you were coming to pick up Tucker and go to the clubhouse. I already packed a bag with some things for both of you. I just threw in what I thought you might need. A change of clothes, his teddy and favorite toy and book, your phone charger and makeup bag off the bathroom counter.”
“Thank you.” I give her a hug and move to his bedroom where he’s asleep.
“I’ll take the bag down for you,” she offers. “You bring him.”
I lift my son and cradle him over my shoulder. He’s getting so big, and he’s heavy, but he’s still my baby.
We move down the hall and into the elevator. I’m a nervous wreck the entire way to the car.
Mrs. Harding stands guard while I load Tucker into his car seat, then gives me a hug. “Please be careful, and text me when you’re safe, okay?”
“I will. Thank you so much.”
“Go.”
I jump behind the wheel, and she gets into her car. We leave together, and I scan the lot, looking for any movement.
It’s dark outside, and morning’s first light is still two hours away. Sonny’s doesn’t close for another hour.
At the end of the street, Mrs. Harding splits off to the left.
Eight minutes later, I turn into the brightly lit gas station and see Cody leaning against his bike. He stands when he sees me pull in.
The car is barely at a stop when he’s at my door. Putting it in park, I pop the lock, and he jerks the car door open.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Can we get to the clubhouse first?”
He squats and cups my face. “Are you okay?”
I nod, tears in my eyes, the relief I feel from just being with him rolls over me. I’m safe as long as he’s here.
“Hey, come here.” He unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me into his arms. He doesn’t ask any more questions, though I know a million must be running through his head. After he holds me for a long moment, he pulls back and searches my eyes, then glances at the backseat. “Okay. Let’s get you both to the clubhouse. It’s just down the road. Follow me, okay?”
I nod and buckle back up.
We pull out together, and I keep right on his tail through a dark industrial park to the very back. There are three other bikes parked at the front door.
I park next to Cody, and once I gather Tucker in my arms, Cody grabs my bag and holds the door for me.
The place is like an old manufacturing building. Not at all what I expected. A slow-moving freight train runs along a set of railroad tracks at the back of the parking lot, its wheels clacking along.
Once we’re inside, the lights are dim, but I see a bar on one side and tables and chairs on the other. There’s a staircase to another level and a doorway that looks like it leads down a hall. A couple of guys are asleep on some couches.
“They’re prospects,” Cody states. That accounts for two of the three bikes parked out front.
“Who’s the other motorcycle out there?” I ask.
“Billy. Why he’s crashing here tonight when he’s got a beautiful ol’ lady at home, I haven’t a clue. Come on.”
He leads me up the stairs and down the hall, stopping at a door about halfway. Inside is a big bed, nightstands, a talldresser, and a desk and chair. A colorful rug is in the center of the room, and there’s a door that leads to a bathroom.
“Is this yours?” I ask.
“My father’s, but it’s okay. He never uses it anymore.”
“Are you sure this is okay?”
