Page 63 of Laying Low

Anthony’s father grinned at Reg’s brother, his heart in his eyes.“Okay.I won’t.”

“I’ve got a fiancé and a work husband and a family,” Dean said shortly.“If they take my job, so be it.As long as they leave Marcus alone, they can piss up a rope.”

“It’s a good thing I know Marcus is the work husband,” Hemmer said dryly; then he sobered.“How’s he doing?”

“Recovering,” Dean said, sounding worried.“And pissed off.Those fuckers tried to push him around in a wheelchair.I think he lit a fire under our entire division to wave their giant dicks around and get that bullshit under control—at least in our county.”

Hemmer sighed.“All right, then.Let me know if you change your minds.Dean, you make sure every phone has my number.Once we know you’re coming, we’ll be ready with the welcome wagon, you hear?”

“I hear, Lloyd.”Dean was very sober.“You went above and beyond for us—thank you.”

Lloyd shrugged.“We apprehended an entire Bratva contingent, thanks to you people.Do youknowhow good that looks on my record?By all means, ask me for another favor.Please!”

“Will do,” Dean said, standing up to shake Lloyd’s hand.

Lloyd responded and then said, “By the way—I’m not sure you boys know this, but since you’re hanging around for another three days, you should probably take today to visit your young friends.Reynaldo is feeling much better, and they’ll be moved to protected housing tomorrow, probably.And since everybody else is taking your transportation, your hotel room is paid for, and all you have to do is get a ride to the harbor three days from now.I’ll text you the information—but you’ll take a small plane out to Anacortes harbor, and then a rental to Seattle, and then a plane to Bakersfield airport.We….”He shrugged.“We didn’t want to send you on a wild goose chase, but we didn’t want you-know-who to be looking at planes from Canada, either, should they get wind of this.You smuggled yourselves in, we’ll smuggle you out.Don’t you worry, boys.We’ve got your backs.”

And with that, he tipped his head and left, leaving Reg to wonder why he wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat—he seemed to need one at the very least.

An hour later, after a lot of talking and catching up, Reg and Anthony started yawning through their coffee, and Reg’s mother decided it was time for them to go to bed.

As they wandered up to their room, leaning on each other as they tried to remember which one was their number, Reg took a look around and frowned.

“What?”Anthony asked, fumbling for the keycard.

“This could be the nicest place I’ve ever been in,” Reg told him frankly.It was practically a castle—old, with original wooden fixtures and plush carpet runners in rich blues and reds—and it had only hit him just now that this wasn’t a Best Western or Holiday Inn Express.

“Good,” Anthony said as the door clicked.“It’ll be like a honeymoon.Or a really good vacation.”

Reg snorted softly, remembering their interlude the night before.“More of that would be nice,” he admitted, and then, sadly, he yawned.“But after—”

Anthony caught his yawn and finished his sentence.“More sleep.”

They crawled into bed still wearing their sweatshirts and socks, with the towel and throw in puddles at the foot of the bed.

THEY WEREawakened less than an hour later by somebody else knocking at the door.

“Oh God,” Anthony mumbled, and he reached out—on purpose—to stop Reg from getting up.There was no way his father would do this to him; it had to be someone from Reg’s family.

“Why would they do this to us?”Reg mumbled.At least that’s what it sounded like, because he was facedown on the pillow.

Terrifying that he slept like that.Now Anthony knew.With that in mind, he stumbled to the door and found Reg’s mother standing there, both backpacks—thoroughly cleaned and repacked—over one shoulder, and their denim jackets and hoodies over the other arm.

“Oh my God, let me help you,” Anthony gasped, taking the backpacks first so he could set them on the floor by the bed.

“Here, Mom,” Reg muttered, scrambling out of bed to get the jackets and sweaters.“Sorry, we were just—”

“Sleeping, like I told you,” she said, laughing a little.“Wait here.I’ll be right back.”

With that, she scampered away like a pixie in jeans and a tie-dye hoodie while Anthony and Reg tried to pull their brains back in through their ears.

She was back a moment later with the two bags of provisions that they’d carried.Only, Anthony could already see, the bags had been emptied and restocked.

“Where’d all the paperbacks go?”he complained.

“We gave them to the boys,” she told him bluntly.“Ilia and Reynaldo were most insistent—apparently there’d been implied promises about getting to read all of them.”

Reg snorted.“They made that up, Mom, but that’s fine.”He frowned.“They’re getting released tomorrow?”