“Yeah, but they could be passed out,” Billy says. “Plus, that means they won’t hear us.”
TJ gets a text.
“She says it’s a guy named Robert Carlyle.”
I text Heather.
ME: The name Robert Carlyle mean anything to you.
I get a response almost immediately.
HEATHER: That’s him. That’s Snake’s real name… the one his phone is listed under.
“Bingo,” I say, looking at my brothers.
“All right,” Billy says, studying the building. “How do you want to do this?”
“I’ll go,” I volunteer. “It needs to be me.”
TJ digs through the glove box and passes the trackers to me. “They’re magnetic. Make sure they’re in a good spot.”
“I’d try under the seat if you can manage. If you try the tailpipe, they’ll most likely get jarred off,” Billy adds.
“Got it.” I’m in a black hoodie and jeans. I pull my 9mm and check the clip, sliding it back into place. TJ tosses me a black knit hat, and I glide the cargo door open.
“Watch your back,” Billy says.
Trees and shrubs line the side street, and its pitch dark. I slip into the shadows and trot toward the back of the motel, easing along the rear wall. With my back pressed against it, I inch toward the walkway. I can hear sound coming from the television. It’s a wrestling show. I listen for either of the men talking. A commercial comes on, and there’s still no conversation.
I wait until the show comes back on so that if they’re awake, they’ll focus on it. Creeping slowly and keeping low, I make it to the first bike and jam the tracker between the seat and the oil tank, then I move to the next one, doing the same.
Moving behind the wall, I jog across the street and walk toward the van.
We drive a block away, and TJ pulls out his phone.
“Are they working?” I ask.
“Yep.” He turns the screen toward me, and the two circles show in the exact part of the parking lot we were just at.
“I called Cole. He wants us at the clubhouse. He’s sending replacements out. We’ll have someone watching this place all night, plus Wolf and your dad are going to monitor the devices,” Billy says.
We ride to San Jose, and I shoot a text off, telling Heather I’ll be there soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Heather—
I’ve got a sleeping Tucker in my arms, but I’m sitting on a couch in the main room. It’s late, and the place is quiet.
The ol’ ladies have all been so sweet to me. They tried to get me to take Tucker and go to bed in one of the rooms, but I refused, wanting to wait for Cody.
I’ve been worried sick about him since he told me he was heading to track down Snake. And then when he texted me Snake’s name, I almost had a panic attack. Thank God Melissa, Gigi, and Fiona were here to calm me down.
I was introduced to Cody’s mom when the prospects brought me here. She’s a lovely lady named Layla. She and his father, Jake, have both been very sweet to me and my son.
Cole, their president, and Crash, their VP, as well as a man named Red Dog, sit at the bar, waiting for the boys to return.
I stroke my son’s hair. It’s because of me that Cody is out there tracking down this horrible, dangerous man, and I don’t want anything to happen to him, but I also know I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my son safe from that monster.
