Trey lay on his side on the bed, Casey spooned against him, his arm curled around her. He'd taken the Glock from the waistband of his jeans and placed it on the nightstand within easy reach, although he didn't imagine he'd need it in such a fortress. He set the cell phone next to it.
As tired as they were, the tension of the day still clung to them, making sleep next to impossible. Darkness had set in not long after they retreated to the bedroom and he couldn't help wondering when Max would call. He tilted his wrist to check his watch yet another time. They were an hour earlier here than the East Coast which made it nine-thirty there. He wondered if Max's wife-it had to be her answering the phone-would give him the message. If she did, would Max would call him?
Would he even believe him?
