Chapter 23
23
Morse
T HURSDAY MORNING, WHEN I came downstairs to head to work, Link was sitting alone at the bar in the common room, having a beer. Everyone knew the prez liked his hops, but some serious shit had to be going down if he was imbibing this early.
“Rough day?” I asked.
“You could say that.”
I could also relate, making me pull up the barstool beside him. It had been an insane past couple of weeks. Finding out about the hit on Amelia, moving her and her family into the club, Idaho, and then that entire scene at the hospital. It was all too fucking much. Link and Emily had kept me out of jail, and Tap and Hound had been working tirelessly alongside me to expose all of Eric Landry’s shady dealings.
And I was running on fumes.
I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since Amelia had asked for a minute and walked away.
I had no fucking clue where we stood, and it was tearing me apart inside, making it impossible to shut down. The number to the burner phone Sage had given her was programmed into my phone, and even now, it whispered in my ear, tempting me to make the call. But this conversation needed to be held in person, where I could monitor every expression that crossed her face and fall to my knees and beg, if necessary, to stay in her life.
But that couldn’t happen right now. Amelia had enough shit to deal with. She’d asked for time. I’d fucking give it to her. I’d managed to stay away from her for years, but now that I’d touched her—now that I knew how good she tasted and how well her pussy strangled my cock—I was done with that shit. It hadn’t even been forty-eight hours since I’d last seen her, and I needed a fix.
Maybe the prez could provide me with a healthier distraction.
Link’s hair stood on end like he’d been running his fingers through it, possibly ripping some out. I rounded the bar and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the top off.
“What new and exciting shit storm are you caught up in, Prez?”
He took a swig before answering, “Havoc and I took Tank to see the doctor yesterday.”
Hearing that, I took a heavy pull. “What’s the diagnosis?”
“Fuckin’ dementia.”
I’d been expecting as much, but hearing it was still devastating. The members of the old guard that had started this club were getting up in years, so it made sense. But they all seemed so much larger than life. After all the stories I’d heard about Tank on the battlefield and in the club, there was something so wrong about dementia being the thing that would do him in.
“How much time does he have?”
Link shrugged. “A couple of years? Maybe? If the drugs they prescribed him slow down the progression. No guarantee they’ll do a goddamn thing, but the side effects promise one hell of a crazy time during his last days.”
“Shit.”
Link nodded. “I didn’t know what the fuck to do, so I called Pop. He suggested I find Tank’s kids.”
Tank’s kids—like every other member’s—were in our system. I’d put them into the software monitoring the dark web because kidnapping and sex trafficking were real, and we protected our own. Other than their addresses, birth dates, and phone numbers, I knew nothing about AJ and Brooke. They were out of the picture long before I became a prospect, and nobody ever talked about them.
“Did Tap get you their numbers?”
“Yep. I called them first thing this morning.”
“You talked to Tank’s kids?”
Link nodded. “AJ tried to hang up on me the moment he realized who I was. I had to convince him to hear me out. Didn’t give a shit that his father was dying. In fact, he had some choice words for his old man. Words I will not be fucking sharing with Tank.”
Link sounded irritated but not angry about AJ’s reaction, making me want to dig a little deeper into Tank’s secrets. What the hell had happened between him and his ex? The grizzly old biker was one mystery I’d never been able to solve. Then again, I hadn’t tried very hard since the man had earned my respect before I’d gotten the chance to violate his privacy.
“And the daughter?”
“Now, that was a surprise. Brooke said she’s coming. She has to make some arrangements first, but yeah, she’s coming to see him. I don’t know how long she’ll stay, but she intends to be here in the next few weeks.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It’ll be… interesting.”
We finished our beers in silence, and then Link stood and set his bottle in the box for recycling. “I gotta get back to the office, but I’m glad you stopped. We need to talk.”
“What’s up?”
He cocked his head at me. “What the hell are you doing here, Morse?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, bracing for the tongue-lashing I knew was coming. He had that look in his eyes… the one he got whenever someone was being a dumbass.
I didn’t appreciate it being directed at me. “Where the fuck else would I be?”
“According to the schedule, you’re not due back to work until Monday.”
“Yeah? Well, plans changed. Hell, you were there when shit went sideways.”
“Yeah, I was. Which is why I asked in the first place. You’re scheduled to be off.”
Was he planning to force me to take my vacation? “We have been busting our asses off, uncovering the shit Eric Landry has been up to. My brothers need me.”
Link shrugged. “Maybe. But right now, your ol’ lady needs you more.”
“She’s busy with Carol. I don’t want to interfere.”
And she isn’t mine. Yet.
“Then don’t. But I bet she could use a hand.”
Did Amelia need help? The hit had been called off, so she was in no danger. A couple of my brothers were still watching Carol’s, erring on the side of caution.
She was safe, but was she okay? Sitting with a dying friend had to be fucking awful. Could I somehow help her with that? An idea struck me, and I stood and recycled my bottle.
“You know, you’re a lot wiser now that you’re married,” I said.
Link barked out a laugh. “Don’t I know it.”
I eyed the stairs, planning my next move.
Link stopped me. “Before you go, I’ve been meaning to ask… how’d you convince Landry to call off that hit so fast?”
I shrugged. “They put us in the back of the same cop car.”
“And?”
I eyed my president. “You sure you wanna know?”
He nodded, but understanding flashed in his eyes. He glanced at the fridge, likely considering another beer, but stayed where he was. “Give me the abridged version.”
“I explained that Amelia was under the club’s protection, and nobody fucks with what’s ours unless they are prepared to get raw dogged with every goddamn inch of our might.”
“Huh,” Link said thoughtfully. “Wish there was a way to put that on our website without alarming potential donors.”
“I told him that for every day that hit was up, I’d pay an inmate to fuck him up the ass. If the hit wasn’t down by the end of the day, his punishment would be retroactive. The hit had been up for several days, and as shady as he is with his accounting, he easily did the math.”
“You don’t have that kind of money,” Eric had told me.
I’d only smiled.
“No. But I’m excellent at uncovering secrets, and everyone seems to have those. There are no lengths I won’t go to for that woman. Don’t try me, Eric.”
I left out the details of my maniacal laughter and promises of what he should expect, being the number one fuck-up on the club’s radar. I thought he was going to piss himself when I disarmed him, so adding a lengthy description of my friends in the big house looking for new playmates nearly gave him an apoplectic seizure. The man wasn’t shit without his money, and he knew it. The fucker should have stuck to his white-collar crimes.
“Nice bluff,” Link said.
He knew me better than that. Hell, he’d do the same goddamn thing if Emily’s life were on the line. That wasn’t judgment in his eyes; that was pride.
“See you later, Prez.” I turned and headed for the stairs.
“Wait. Where you goin’?” he asked, no doubt expecting me to leave, not go upstairs.
“What do you care? I have the day off,” I shouted over my shoulder. I could have been a dick and left it at that, but the prez was going through his own shit, and my plans would cheer his ass up some. “Gonna grab Mrs. Landry’s chess set and see if she’s up for one last game.”
Link’s ear-to-ear grin chased away some of the shadows under his eyes.
“She’s dying, Morse. For fuck’s sake, let her win.”
* * *
By the time I reached the community gate that led to Carol’s house, I was sweating like a whore in church.
The custom chess set wouldn’t fit in my saddlebags, and I wasn’t about to rough it up, so I’d taken a rideshare. I could have borrowed a car from the shop, but I figured Amelia might be less inclined to send me packing if I didn’t have a vehicle.
The guard manning the gate called in my visit. Someone must have approved our entry because the gate clicked and slowly opened, and we drove through.
Amelia opened the door, and she was a sight for sore eyes. The dark circles under her eyes made it clear she’d slept about as much as I had, but she was still the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. She flung her arms around me. Adjusting the chess set so the corners wouldn’t jab her, I buried my nose in her hair and let her comforting scent reassure me she was safe.
I hadn’t realized how much I fucking needed this.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she said. “Are you okay?”
Why the fuck had I been so concerned about her reception? The way her tits pressed against me felt like home. “Yeah. I… I never got to return Mrs. Landry’s chessboard.”
Amelia stiffened, her arms falling away from me as she stepped back. I didn’t have to see her face to know I’d fucked up.
Determined to rectify the situation, I said, “It was the best excuse I had to see you. I’m so fucking relieved that you’re all right. I missed you, Angel.”
She softened.
I held up the chess set. “This is my excuse for coming over, but I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
“Come in. I don’t know if she’ll be up for a game, but I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
Amelia led me into the study. Carol’s bed now took up most of the space. Blankets were all I could see from the door, so I scooted around until I could see her face. Pale and waxen, I wondered if she’d already passed. But when I stepped into view, her eyes brightened.
“Morse.” The greeting came out thin and airy.
I ducked my head. “Good to see you, Mrs. Landry.” I held up the chess set like it could shield me against her condition, schooling my expression. Carol wouldn’t want my sympathy, which was good, because that shit made me uncomfortable. “Thought I’d swing by and see if you’re up for a rematch.”
“Depends. You planning to go easy on me again?”
I shrugged. “Still need me to?”
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a twinkle in them that hadn’t been there before.
I threw my hands up in surrender. “Kidding. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a man who learns from my mistakes.” My gaze flickered to Amelia, but she looked away.
The three of us considered the layout of the room, deciding there wasn’t enough space to set the chessboard up where Carol could get to it. That was probably for the better since she was sound asleep by the time we gave up.
“She’s really something,” I said.
“Yeah, she is. And she doesn’t pretend to be any other way. It’s… pretty badass.” Amelia’s fond smile for her friend took my breath away. She grabbed my hand and led me out into the living room. We sat on the love seat near the study, where we could still hear the machines keeping Carol alive.
“She’s basically the opposite of my parents, who show the world this perfect image, but inside, they’re… well, they’re miserable. I hate who I am when I’m around them. I thought it would be easier this time—that I would be stronger and better prepared to stand up to them—but they’ve always known how to control me.”
“But you are strong. You dropped out of college and left. What triggered that?”
Amelia’s side eye made it clear she hadn’t disclosed that information, but she didn’t call me out on it. “I caught my dad with another woman. I told Mom about it, thinking she would use the information to finally leave him and find some semblance of happiness, but it didn’t go as planned. Instead of leaving him, she sat me down and explained the benefits of marriage partnerships. Then she began plotting my own unhappily ever after.”
My eyebrows must have shot up my forehead because Amelia laughed at my expression.
“So… yeah. I dropped out of college and bounced. I’ve mostly avoided them ever since. But then Ted died, and they offered to pay for Theo’s school. I know it’s stupid, but there were no strings attached to his tuition, and I thought maybe they were trying to be better. But once he enrolled, they started up these games with me.” She frowned. “And apparently with Theo, too.”
“What do you plan to do about it?” I asked.
She shrugged and looked away. “I’m not moving to Idaho; that’s for damn sure. I can’t be around them, but some twisted part of me still wants their approval. They’ll never give it to me, no matter how hard I try. The bar is always rising or moving completely. I won’t go back to that. Instead, I’ll cut back my hours with the charity and find a job to pay for Morgan’s school. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Carol’s envelope was burning a hole in my pocket, but I was sworn to secrecy for now. “Don’t do anything rash. I have a feeling everything will work out if you give it a little time.”
Her head whipped back around, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Is this advice from Morse or Joe?”
“Joe was for the kids. They fucking needed that. So did you.”
Her expression softened. “You’d make an excellent dad, Morse.” Emotion flashed in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. “I don’t want any more kids.”
“I figured since you said your tubes are tied.”
“That doesn’t bug you?”
I shrugged. “Nope.”
When she finally met my gaze again, suspicion clouded her eyes. “Really? That doesn’t bother you?”
“Should it?”
She snorted. “You don’t want kids of your own?”
“You’ve never met my dad or my brother, and I hope you never do. I don’t know if science has ever figured out the whole nature versus nurture debacle, but I’d rather err on the side of caution and not pass those genes down. I had a vasectomy as soon as I realized it was an option. Being a dad was never in the cards for me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So, if that was the excuse you were planning to use to cut me loose, you’re shit out of luck because I’m not going anywhere.”
She studied me, but she still didn’t look convinced.
“There’s something you should know.” I shifted and took a deep breath. “After I was discharged, I came to see you and Ted. I took a rideshare directly from the airport, but when we reached the house, you were outside, carrying in groceries.”
Her brow furrowed. “When? I?—”
“I never got out of the car. I couldn’t. When I saw you, it was different than before. I’d always thought you were pretty, but that day… you were all rainbows and fuckin’ sunshine, and I couldn’t look away. You were married to a man I owed my life to, but I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything. That’s when I knew I was no better than my father. No better than the priest, my commanding officer, or any other man who took what didn’t belong to him.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “But you are different. You drove away.”
I hadn’t realized how desperately I needed her absolution. Never truly knew I needed it. So, when all the guilt and turmoil I’d been carrying around since that day unraveled, the sudden lightness in my chest was so goddamn freeing it physically hurt. Unexpected relief stung the backs of my eyes.
“Yeah, but I never stopped thinking about you,” I admitted. “Never stopped wanting you. I love you, Angel, and I have loved you for a long-ass time. I know I fucked up, but I don’t give a single fuck about our age difference or your not wanting more kids. You are what I want.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I love you, too.”
She lunged forward, and her lips crashed into mine. I pulled her onto my lap and made sure she knew she was mine. Because I was never letting this woman go.
* * *
I stayed at Carol’s house with Amelia that night, and we took turns checking on the patient and keeping her company. She passed early the next morning in her study, surrounded by the books she loved so much, with a smile on her face and holding Amelia’s hand.
After the coroner came to collect the body, Amelia and I caught a rideshare back to the fire station. It was early afternoon, but we were exhausted and mentally drained, so we went directly to my room.
Her gaze flickered over the space, which wasn’t much different from the rooms she’d been sharing with Morgan and Thia, and then face-planted on the bed. Chuckling, I bent to remove her boots, and both our phones buzzed with a message. Specks, Prospect, and Morgan were on the way home.
Since the hit had been called off, continued proof of life pictures had become unnecessary. Of course, that hadn’t mattered to Amelia. Seeing her girl out in the world and happy was one of the few things that had kept her going under the heavy cloud of Carol’s impending death.
I tugged the phone from my pocket to find a picture from Specks of Morgan passed out in the passenger’s seat. Amelia had done the same and smiled at the photo, but the worry in her eyes reminded me of the envelope in my pocket.
Realizing I had a timely promise to keep, I dug into my pocket again, tossing the envelope on the bed beside Amelia. Her name was written on the front in spidery scrawl, so she scooped it up.
“What’s this?”
“Carol asked me to give it to you after she passed.”
Amelia stiffened, staring at the envelope like it might attack and rip her to shreds. Finally, she slid a shaky finger beneath the flap, prying it open enough to tug the letter free. Carefully unfolding the page, she scanned the note, then barked out a hiccupping sob of laughter.
“Carol made me her beneficiary?”
“Yes.”
Amelia’s wet gaze shot to me. “You knew.”
“She told me in the hospital when she gave me the envelope, but she made me promise not to tell you.”
She nodded, her tear-filled eyes understanding. “That’s why Eric wanted me dead.”
“Yep.”
She set the letter aside, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Whoa. I… I don’t know how to feel about any of this.”
I brushed a lock of hair from her face, stroking her cheek before tucking it behind her ear. “That’s okay. You’ve got time to figure it out.”
Her glassy eyes welled over, and she looked away, blinking rapidly as her emotions flowed down her cheeks. “I can’t believe she did that.”
I sat next to her on my bed, rubbing her back and attempting to soothe the broken sobs she couldn’t stifle. When her breathing calmed, I slid an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into my side, pillowing her head on my chest. With no words at all, I assured her I would always be here, keeping her safe. Forever.
Her eyes closed, and as she drifted off, I used my free hand to pick up the letter and read.
To my Amelia,
After much consideration, I have decided to make you the sole beneficiary of my will.
Before you go tearing up and singing my praises, let me assure you my motives are not entirely altruistic. If there is an afterlife, I do not wish to spend it burning in some lake of fire, so I’m tasking you with finding legitimate, impactful charities to donate my wealth to. In short, I’m instructing you to spend my money like my salvation depends on it.
But don’t you dare give it all away.
Wealth might not solve all your problems, but it pays for college tuition, excellent medical care, and lavish vacations, all of which you desperately need. I shall be severely disappointed if you don’t find new and tawdry ways to enjoy yourself on my dime. Please do not force me to haunt you, dear. The old lady specter wandering the halls of her manor is so passé.
Investments to cover the house’s taxes and operating expenses have been established in a trust. It’s protected, so you can’t sell it or give it to charity. And it’s designed to keep the manor running in perpetuity, so you might as well move in and enjoy the luxury. The staff is competent, if a little too friendly, but they will keep my home from falling into squalor. You’ll have the power to hire and fire as you please, but the trust will pay their salaries.
Also, I’ve instructed Jeremy to retrieve the gifts I gave you from above the garage and return them to their rightful homes upon my death.
You thought you were so sneaky, but I always knew.
Nobody has bothered to befriend me in a long time.
For that, and for your phenomenal breakfast casserole, I thank you.
Your friend, Carol Landry