Tuck woke the next morning to find the sun streaming in the window and shining on his face. He blinked, sat up and looked around, a little disoriented from the unfamiliar bed and surroundings. Slowly, the night before came back to him. The motel room, talking to London late into the night and finally falling into bed exhausted and not looking forward to another day on the road that would only take him closer to the place and situation he’d hoped to never have to deal with.
Red numerals glowed from the table beside the bed, letting him know it was after eight a.m. He’d slept later than he’d intended. Not that it really mattered. He could do six hours between noon and six if he wanted, though he didn’t want to call it a night quite that late if he could help it.
He looked around the room,
