He snags them and heads out of the room.
Ten minutes later he’s back.
“The sun is starting to rise,” he says, dropping the keys on the tall dresser.
I twist and look out the high windows.
“I locked the front door and dropped the bar across it. The prospects have orders not to open it for anyone who doesn’t have a patch.”
“Thank you.”
He lays a gun in the drawer of the nightstand next to him.
“Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
“What if Tucker finds that?”
“He makes a move toward that nightstand, I’ll be awake so fast your head will spin.”
I’m a light sleeper, unlike my son, and I know the minute he wakes up, I’ll wake up as well.
“Goodnight, Cody.”
“Goodnight, Heather.”
I’ve held back the information that Snake is a Death Head. I was afraid Cody or his MC wouldn’t want that kind of trouble. Now it feels so dishonest. I need to come clean about it. I don’t want to keep anymore secrets from him.
Cody’s eyes are shut, and his breathing has changed. He’s already drifted off.
I suppose it can wait until morning. I’ll tell him then. With that thought, I drift off too, knowing Tucker and I are in the safest place we could be tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cody—
My phone vibrates on the nightstand with an incoming text. I crack an eye open to see both Heather and Tucker still asleep.
Squinting, I read the message.
CRASH: You want to get out here and tell me why the prospects say you told them to bar the fucking door?
ME: Be right there
I slip out, pull my jeans on, throw a shirt and my cut on, then quietly open the drawer and retrieve my Glock.
Moving into the hall, I meet Crash at the bar where he sits with a mug of coffee. Both prospects are behind the bar, trying to look busy.
“You want a coffee?” one offers me.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Crash asks.
“Had some trouble up at Sonny’s,” I reply.
“What the fuck did you do this time?”
“It wasn’t me. An old boyfriend of Heather’s tracked her down. She says he was abusive. He’s the reason she ran to California—to escape him.”
