Chapter 11
11
Morse
A MELIA WANTED TO be alone with me.
A flash of panic shot through my system, my heart tha-thunking in a stuttered beat.
No big deal. I could fucking handle this. Forget that the last time we’d been alone, I’d all but come in my pants. What was it about this woman that caught my goddamn blood on fire?
Being alone with her was dangerous. I needed a plan.
Taking her back to the surveillance room was out of the question. The wall of monitors was a bit too much for the average civilian to take, and the last thing we needed was for her to freak out. We were like our own island of misfit toys here, and she didn’t belong in our ranks. She was normal. Functional. Perfect.
And I’d never stopped thinking about her because I was one sick motherfucker.
By the time I led her down the hall and opened the conference room door, my palms were sweating. I ushered Amelia in, wiping them on my pants like some nervous bastard on a first date.
This is not a date. It’s a meeting. She probably has questions, dumbass.
Her gaze darted to the conference table. “Don’t you have an office?”
“It’s a surveillance room. Not ideal for conversation.”
Nodding her understanding, she drifted to the table. Once again, I kept a chair between us when we sat. If I could have gotten away with it, I’d be on the opposite side of the room. As it was, I had to breathe through my mouth so I could fucking think.
Planting an elbow against the top of the table, she rested her head in her palm and turned to face me. “So, how’ve you been? What have you been up to?”
She wanted to catch up? My chest was so uncomfortably tight it felt like I was having a heart attack, and she wanted my life story. Of course, she did. Unlike most people who asked personal questions, Amelia genuinely gave a shit. Not for personal gain, accolades, or some distorted sense of superiority like some phony Samaritan, but because she legitimately cared about people. A spark of heat and light in an otherwise cold and dark world, this was precisely why she needed to be protected.
Which meant I needed to get my ass out of here and back to work.
“I’ve been busy. We traced the hit back to a service, but they’re professionals, and we haven’t been able to hack their database.”
Her forehead scrunched up. “Can’t we just reach out to them?”
“Doesn’t work that way. If it did, we could get the authorities involved.”
“But how do hitmen cash in? Wouldn’t they have to get in touch with the person who put out the hit?”
I’d always appreciated how her brain worked, constantly questioning and figuring out options.
“Proof of death would be uploaded to a secure folder. Then, the payment would be initiated from one offshore account into another, making it nearly impossible to track. We’re working with pros here, and they know what they’re doing.”
She frowned. “I’ll pull Morgan out of school for the week. Her finals are done, and spring break is next week, so this is an acceptable time for her to take a break. Did you figure out a way for me to see Carol tomorrow?”
Her concern for the widow over her own safety was no surprise, but it was damn inconvenient.
“Leaving the fire station is a horrible idea. Out in the open, you’ll be vulnerable.”
“I’m not shirking my duties and cowering in fear, Morse.”
“I get that, and I’m not asking you to stay put forever. I’ll find this person, but I need you to work with me until I do. Please stay in the club. If they come for you here, they’ll have to cut through every one of my brothers first.”
She paled. “Some of these guys have families to think about. I don’t want them in harm’s way because of me.”
Her concern for others never ceased to amaze me. “Everyone knows the danger, and they’re on high alert. Will be until the threat passes. And we’re doing everything possible to keep you hidden. I don’t want my brothers in danger any more than you do.”
She swallowed and looked away. “Yeah.”
Was I a jackass for pounding on the buttons I knew would influence her? Yes. Did I regret it? Not even a little.
“Okay.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But on one condition. You take Carol a meal and play her in a game of chess.”
I almost laughed. “Me?”
“Yes, you. It’s not like she’ll be the first widow you’ve eaten with. You used to help me with ration runs all the time, remember? Besides, I don’t trust anyone else. Not with Carol. She’s… special. Not for everyone, but you’ll like her. I’m no match for her at chess, but you’ll kick her ass for sure, and that will tickle her pink. She loves a challenge and always complains that she has no serious competition.”
I was still struggling with the first directive. “You want me to take a meal to a woman I don’t know? That I’ve never met?”
“Yeah. Why? Is that a problem?”
Hell, yes, it was. I’d changed a lot since my time with Amelia, and this was a huge ask. Regardless, looking deep into her eyes now, full of trust, fear, and maybe a spark of hope, I knew there was no question.
Of course, I’d relent.
If it would keep her ass safe in the fire station, how could I resist?
Still, precautions had to be taken. As soon as I got back to my office, I’d learn everything there was to know about Carol so I wouldn’t go in blind.
“What’s the plan?”
She knew she had me, and a smile played on her lips. “I’ll make that breakfast casserole you used to love and have it hot and ready to go in the morning. You’ll need to be there at nine a.m. She’s at her best in the morning, and that’s the only time she’ll grant me an audience.”
This kept getting worse. “She grants audiences?”
“Yeah. She’s filthy rich. Think housekeepers, gardeners, a cook, and all that.”
“Yet she can’t survive one week without you?”
“It would be two weeks since I already canceled next week. She’s lonely, Morse. Nobody comes to see her unless they’re getting paid.”
This woman and her goddamn heart.
“Except you.”
“Except me.” Her sweet smile tugged on every one of my goddamn heartstrings.
“And you’re sure she’ll grant me an audience?”
“Absolutely. She’ll be over the moon about it. I’ll call and inform her of the change.”
I huffed out a breath, well and truly beaten. “Okay.” I was a sucker, but there it was. At least I’d get rewarded with Amelia’s cooking for my trouble. “I’ll need the address.”
Her face lit up. She shoved the chair between us out of the way and tackled me in a hug, once again assaulting me with goddamn rainbows and wildflowers.
Fuck.
None of this was going as anticipated. My cock stirred, and I had to pull away and think about baseball.
“I need to get back to work,” I said, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.
What I really needed was to figure out this mystery and send her home before I forgot why she could never be mine.
Her expression slipped a tiny bit, but she nodded and let me walk her back to her room. Then, rather than returning to the security room, I barged through Link’s open office door, too distracted by my thoughts and plans to realize Specks was seated in front of Link’s desk until I’d already interrupted their conversation. The club’s treasurer wasn’t the only one in attendance. Movement on the other side of him drew my attention to an unfamiliar face attached to a just-out-of-the-service buzz cut.
Lead filled my stomach. The many thoughts racing through my mind tripped and face-planted as I homed in on the interloper. Early twenties, dark hair, and curious, dark eyes that told me nothing about his character.
And he was wearing a goddamn club cut.
I knew nothing about this bastard. How was he even in here? Why weren’t security protocols being followed?
“Morse.” Link sounded… less than thrilled to see me. “What can I do for you?”
My attention didn’t waver from the stranger. “We have a new prospect?” Was I fired? Was Link releasing me from my position?
What. The. Fuck?
The prez leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest. “Specks, Prospect, give us the room.”
Prospect. That’s what he’d go by now until he earned his road name and patched in. And I knew nothing about him.
Prospect and Specks hurried out, closing the door behind them. Link gestured for me to sit. As I did, he circled his desk and collapsed into his chair.
“I’m supposed to personally vet every potential brother.” That was what we’d agreed when he’d made me the head of security. This was my goddamn job.
“You’ve been busy. Tap screened him.”
Then Tap was a motherfucking traitor. The bastard thought he could edge his way into my duties, did he?
Wait until the next time I see his ass….
Link’s eyes narrowed like he could read my thoughts. “I gave him an order. You got a problem, it’s with me. You have enough on your plate right now, and I thought you’d welcome the help. Tap is every bit as qualified at scrutinizing a background as you are. You fuckin’ trained him, for crying out loud, so don’t look at me like that.”
Authority figures made my skin crawl. Link and I often butted heads because he didn’t like to be questioned, and I would never follow anyone blindly. Still, the club was home, the first place I’d ever been free to say and do what I pleased. The prez hadn’t just hired me; he’d created a position where my paranoia would be useful.
He'd earned my respect. I couldn’t overreact, so I bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself in check.
“Now, what’d you come barging in here for?” he asked. “Any news about the hit on Amelia?”
“No. There’s been some suspicious activity at her house, though.”
The security cameras had been triggered twice this morning by delivery men who hadn’t left any boxes behind. Instead, they’d circled the house, peering into the windows. I’d run their license plates and used facial recognition software only to come up with dead ends and aliases. I was no closer to figuring out who wanted her dead than I had been when I’d knocked on her door.
And now I had a new prospect to worry about. Exhausted and still pissed at being edged out of my job by Tap, of all people, I raked a hand through my hair. It was Sunday morning. Families were here. Amelia and Morgan were depending on us to keep them safe. What if Prospect was dangerous? Knowing nothing about this asshole had my tiny hairs rising and my insides knotting up.
“I’ll look into Prospect’s background and?—”
Link’s fist slammed against the table, making me jump. “Goddammit, Morse, trust your fuckin’ brother to do his job. We’ve got the club under control. Your focus is needed elsewhere right now.”
Startled by his outburst, I leaned back in my seat.
He scrubbed a hand over his beard and huffed out a breath. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for you, but you’ve been holed up in the security department for a long-ass time.”
“Yeah? Well, it is my job.”
“Exactly. Your job . Not your fuckin’ life. You spend way too much time watching other people live from the comfort of your chair.”
What the fuck? “We agreed?—”
“Yeah, we did, but everything changes. Don’t you want a home? A family?”
Did I? I hadn’t given it much thought since I could only see that happening with one woman, and she’d always been off-limits. I’d tried to date. I’d hooked up with club girls and shared nights with women I picked up at the Copper Penny, but nobody had ever inspired any long-term plans.
Link’s expression softened. “I’ve seen the way you look at Amelia, and?—”
“She’s not for the likes of me.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but only frowned and nodded. “Understood.”
I hadn’t expected him to drop it that easily and didn’t know what to say next.
“Still waitin’ for you to tell me why you practically knocked my door down to get in here.”
Right. There had been a point to my visit. “Amelia asked me to do a rations run for her non-profit tomorrow.”
Link’s eyebrows shot up. “She wants you to take a meal to a widow?”
“Yep.”
He stood and headed for the door, opening it to wave Specks and Prospect back in. I watched, gritting my teeth. We hadn’t yet finished our discussion, and I didn’t want some asshole I didn’t know breathing the same air, much less weighing in on my task. Regardless, in marched Specks with Prospect hot on his heels. The kid slid in to stand behind me.
At my fucking back.
I angled myself in my seat to keep an eye on him while watching the prez circle his desk and take a seat.
“When will you make this meal delivery to the military widow?” Link asked, summing up my announcement and sharing it with the class.
I knew right where he was going, and fuck that.
“It’ll be a quick delivery,” I replied. “I don’t need help.”
“I disagree.” Link leaned forward and steepled his hands on the table. “This rations run... is it part of Amelia’s regular schedule?”
Amelia made weekly visits to her widows, so I nodded. “I believe so.”
“Then we follow precautions.”
Did he think I didn’t know that? That I was incompetent or careless? “I don’t plan on riding my bike or wearing my cut. I’ll take a cab or a rideshare.”
“Or we can take my car,” Specks said. “What time tomorrow?”
Grateful it’d be him and not Prospect, I answered, “We need to leave by eight a.m.”
Specks quirked his mouth to the side. “I can handle that.”
“Thank you, brother.”
He nodded. “No problem.”
Link leaned forward and stared me down. “Good. Take Prospect, too.”
I wanted to argue but knew it would be useless, so I ground my teeth and bit back my frustration.
“Yessir.”