Chapter 3
3
Morse
F OR AS LONG as I’d known her, Amelia had lived in a ’60s-era single-family home in a quiet Lakewood cul-de-sac. The moment it came into view, my shoulders relaxed. The house was still standing with no evidence of a disturbance, which meant Amelia had to be okay.
Video footage of the property popped up on my monitor every day. I knew about the small, raised garden bed she’d planted behind the house. Last spring, she’d added bright orange mums to the mix. I hadn’t known shit about flowers but had looked them up, so I’d be in the know.
Maybe I’d finally get the chance to see what they smelled like.
This was recent information I shouldn’t know about my deceased recruiter’s wife, but I couldn’t help myself. Amelia was my meth. She was the drug I couldn’t stop craving, no matter how hard I tried.
The lights were on. Amelia’s roommate’s car was parked in front of the garage, so I pulled up next to it and parked, still clueless as to what the fuck to say. I was about to see her face-to-face for the first time in four years.
At Ted’s funeral. Even though he’s dead, she’s still his wife, dumbass, so keep your eyeballs in your head .
My attention stayed fixed on the front door as I threw my leg over my bike and removed my helmet. How could I convince her she was in danger?
Havoc, the club’s sergeant at arms, parked behind me. Rabbit—a brother who deliberately held no titles nor responsibilities other than his position as a mechanic—pulled in beside him. Rabbit was a special case. Life had fucked him over good, and the shit he’d seen had rattled his cage. That, we had in common. But where Rabbit showed his crazy on a stage for all the world to see, I kept mine locked behind the scenes.
I admired the hell out of the way he was always one hundred percent authentically himself. Of course, I’d never admit that out loud.
And when I’d called for help, he’d answered.
“How do you want to play this?” Havoc asked.
People often deferred to me to cover their surveillance needs, but leading an on-site operation... this was unfamiliar territory. We were out to sea, and I was so far out of my depth I could barely tread water.
But if I failed, Amelia would be the one to drown.
This would be so much easier if it was a code I could crack or a signal I could trace.
My chest constricted.
What would I do if she refused to come with me? Would I force her? Link would probably flip his shit if I did, but to save her life, I could justify just about anything. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
Goddamn dumbass, pull yourself together and focus.
Havoc was still staring at me, waiting for orders.
Swallowing past the fear trying to strangle me, I instructed Havoc to cover the front, to which Rabbit informed us he preferred to hit it from behind anyway. Havoc clipped a handheld radio to his belt and turned it on. Despite the fact we all carried cell phones, he’d insisted on bringing coms. Special Forces didn’t play.
“Radios on channel three. You see something—anything—you speak the fuck up.” He stuffed an earpiece into his ear, gesturing for us to do the same.
“Ten-four motherfuckers,” Rabbit said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good luck, Romeo. Hope she doesn’t wig out when she learns you’re into gardening porn.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, grinning at his stupid inside joke.
This guy.
We were about to terrify and hopefully rescue the most important person in the world to me, and this idiot thought he was funny. I still couldn’t believe I’d let the asshole sneak up on me. He was likely the worst person in the world to catch me watching Amelia. He wouldn’t turn me in, wouldn’t question the ethics of my behavior, but I sure as shit would never hear the end of it.
“Keep your fucking voice down and worry about yourself, crazy asshole. Don’t you fucking die tonight because I’m not explaining that to your other half.”
He cackled. Rabbit was one crazy motherfucker, and his newly acquired girlfriend threw off a psychopath-mad-scientist-who-holds-a-grudge vibe. Despite that, I trusted him at my back. He was a mechanic for the club, and on more than one occasion, I’d seen him donate his entire salary to pay for the parts to fix an elderly veteran’s vehicle. Or a single mom’s. Or anyone who bent his ear with a halfway decent sob story. None of my brothers were saints, but they were all upstanding men beneath the beards and bullshit.
Even Rabbit.
And instead of ruminating on the questionable moral fiber of my club brothers, I needed to get my ass in gear so we could evacuate before assassins showed up and I got us all killed. Shaking my head, I refocused, straightening my spine. Ambling toward the door, I did my best to project confidence and authority but worried I looked like I had a stick shoved up my ass.
She’s counting on you. Get it together.
Amelia’s front yard was a mess. Shaded by giant evergreens, it couldn’t seem to grow anything but moss and weeds. She’d planted grass last year, but the seed never took root.
I could have helped her with it, but I’d stayed away—like I always did—because that was best for both of us. I’d sworn to never return, a promise I’d kept since I left for boot camp.
Now, I was about to barge back into her life.
At least this time, I didn’t need to be stitched up.
Movement flickered at the window, and a curtain fell into place.
Should I remove my cut to look less threatening?
No. After the military, these patches had given me a purpose. A family. I wouldn’t hide what or who I’d become. Especially not from her.
The front door opened, and there she was, looking like a goddamn angel in a pair of leggings and a hoodie.
I shook my head in a jumble of disbelief and relief. Three loud-ass motorcycles had rolled up in front of her house, and instead of calling the police like she should have, Amelia appeared in the doorway, meeting the threat head-on. No surprise. She’d always had a spine of steel and a questionable sense of self-preservation.
Shit. That’s probably gonna make this task a hell of a lot harder.
Getting my game face on, I discreetly spun the fidget ring on the third finger of my right hand, letting it ground me.
“Hi. Can I help—” She squinted, then her eyebrows shot up in recognition. “Levi?”
No one called me by my birth name anymore, and it felt wrong. That name belonged to someone else. Levi had been a captive, a weapon, and a fool. Levi no longer existed, but I didn’t correct her.
I couldn’t. For a second, all I could do was stare.
Amelia stepped onto her front porch, her eyes lighting up. Makeup-free, her thick brown hair up in a messy bun, she was even more beautiful in person. I gobbled up the sight like the starving fool I was.
“Levi?” she asked again, startling me from my gawking.
I pulled myself together and locked down my reaction to seeing her again before covering the few steps separating us. Keeping my tone professional but cordial, I said, “Hello, Mrs. Hansen. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hello, Mrs. Hansen? Like I’m a stranger? Get over here.”
She launched herself at me, enveloping me in the cocoon of her warmth. Amelia had always been a hugger, so I’d known it was coming and had braced for impact, but nothing could have prepared me for the onslaught of her scent or the way her soft, luscious curves pressed against me. The knot in my chest unraveled as fucking wildflowers bloomed and the sun broke through the springtime cloud cover.
I likely held onto her a little longer than I should have, but I couldn’t help myself. Amelia’s hugs were rainbows and unicorns level shit.
But she was in danger.
Besides, having her this close had started the launch sequence. So, I gently broke her hold, taking a step back to put space between us, and thought about baseball to abort the countdown. I wasn’t overly interested in any sport, but baseball was so damn mind-numbing that it did the trick.
A body shuffled into the doorway beside Amelia, and a hand shot in my direction. “Hi. I’m Thia, Amelia’s roommate and best friend.”
Amelia took a step toward her friend. “Sorry. Yes. Thia, Levi is an old friend who lived with Ted and me for a time.”
According to the background check I’d run when she’d moved in with Amelia, Cynthia Renee Phillips was a military widow who owned a coffee shop by the base. Her credit was decent, and she had no tickets or arrests other than a shoplifting charge on her sealed juvenile record.
“Levi from the picture on the bookshelf?” Thia looked me up and down. “Damn. You grew up well.”
“Thia!” Amelia admonished, her cheeks turning bright red.
“What?” Thia’s eyes widened with innocence. “I mean, look at him.”
Amelia’s blush only deepened. “I’m so sorry. She has no filter.”
I didn’t know what to say to any of that, so I shook Thia’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Ma’am? How old do you think I am?”
I wouldn’t touch that question with a ten-foot pole, and thankfully, I didn’t have to because Amelia’s daughter saved me from responding when she squeezed between the two women, managing not to touch either, and offered neither a hug nor her hand.
“Hey, Levi.”
I smiled at Morgan. Ted had mentioned that the kid had issues with physical touch, so I didn’t move to shake her hand. She smiled gratefully at me, and I gave her a nod.
“Long time no see.” The lie rolled right off my tongue, and I pointedly did not look at the cameras I’d hidden on the exterior of the house.
“What are you doing here?” Morgan asked. Her gaze took me in like I was a science project she was about to dissect. She focused on my cut. “Are you a biker now?”
“Something like that.” Grateful for the conversation segue, I returned my attention to Amelia and added, “And I’m here because your life is in danger.”