Zane was back about ten minutes later, but he didn’t seem to be alone. The door opened, and he walked inside with another tray. His back was stiff as he approached and placed the tray on the table in front of me. “Wraith demanded I let him in to check on you.”
Wraith, who was, in fact, the grumpy biker from yesterday, cleared his throat awkwardly. “I didn’t want to inconvenience you. Just wanted to make sure you were both comfortable and didn’t need anything.”
Zane shook his head, clearly not believing a word Wraith said. “My mom is trying to eat something and rest.”
“I can see that,” Wraith replied carefully. “Go ahead, Tawni. I’m not in a hurry.”
I lifted the lid off the tray and found a covered bowl of piping hot soup and a hunk of crusty bread. The broth smelled amazing and tasted even better once I removed the lid and began sipping on the hot liquid. My stomach settled, and I smiled at Zane, relieved that my headache was starting to fade. This soup was exactly what I needed.
“You look less pale,” he observed. “Feeling better?”
“Now I am. Headache isn’t pounding hammers into the back of my skull anymore.”
My son nodded, finishing the rest of his food. He pushed back his plate and then crossed his arms, staring at Wraith with attitude. I didn’t have time to wonder what that was about as I turned to the biker.
“I’m confused about why you’re here,” I admitted.
“That makes two of us,” Zane added.
Wraith lifted one of his hands and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “I’d prefer if we talk alone first.”
Alone? “Why? That’s sus,” I exclaimed, borrowing the word from my son.
“It’s so sus,” he agreed, ticking his head at Wraith.
“Sus?”
“It means suspicious. The way you’ve been acting since the moment I met you,” Zane accused.
I must have missed something because I didn’t have a clue what that meant.
There was a knock on the door, and then Nylah opened it, popping her head inside. “I’ve got some fresh cookies from the oven, and someone needs to check if they taste alright.” She was smiling at Zane, wiggling her eyebrows.
“You can’t bribe me with cookies,” he replied with an indignant lift of his chin.
“What about with extra chocolate chips and a glass of milk? I’ll let you bring some back to the room.”
My son glanced my way, and I could tell that he was tempted. Sure, he was a teenager and not a little boy, but he still loved cookies, especially right out of the oven.
“I’ll be fine. Wraith isn’t going to hurt me.”
Zane stood up, squaring back his shoulders as he stared down at Wraith, who perched on the edge of the leather armchair. “You do a thing to make me regret this, and I will hunt you down. I’ve got a knife, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Zane,” I gasped, surprised to hear such violence.
“It’s fine, Tawni. I understand what he’s saying.” Wraith turned to Zane. “You have my word. I know that may not mean much to you right now, but bikers live by a code, and my word is binding. I won’t harm a hair on her head or upset your mother in any way.”
“Don’t make me regret this because I won’t be sorry for what I do to you.” Zane stomped toward the door and then looked over his shoulder. “Scream, and I’ll come running.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
With a curt nod, he followed Nylah and left me alone with the biker.
“You know, he’s a good son.”
“I think so,” I answered, folding my hands on the table as we faced one another. “What did you want to talk about that my son couldn’t hear? Is this about the guys who attacked us last night?”
“Yes, and no.”