Chapter 8
8
Amelia
W HAT. THE. FUCK?
The question repeated in my head with every few steps as Morse marched me back to my room at a pace just shy of a jog. He’d started out slow, glancing back to study my gait, which had only encouraged me to grit my teeth and force myself to walk straighter. And walking seemed to help. Encouraged, I hastened my steps and tried to yell over the music.
“How long have you been with the bikers?”
He tapped his ear and shook his head, picking up his pace.
As we reached the stairs, I half-jogged to catch up and repeated the question.
After a pregnant pause, he answered, “I joined two weeks after my discharge.”
Surprised by his answer, I slowed my steps and formed a follow-up question, but when I glanced back up, Morse was halfway up the stairs and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to slap it against his ear. Was he… running?
When I finally caught up, he was standing in the hallway in front of the door we’d left Morgan and Thia in with his phone to his ear.
“Got it. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said before pocketing his phone and facing me. “Sorry. I had to take that. I’m needed back down in the surveillance room, but first, I need to collect your phones.”
His all-business tone served as yet another splash of cold water, drowning whatever sparks I must have imagined in the conference room.
“I also need Morgan’s iPad.”
“No.” I stepped closer, stopping when his eyes widened in alarm. Annoyed because, seriously, what did he think I was going to do? Attack him? I folded my arms across my midsection and stared him down. “Absolutely not. I can survive without my phone, but my daughter needs books to breathe. She’s been forced out of her comfort zone and into… this. You can’t take the one thing that grounds her.”
His gaze dropped to my breasts for a split second before darting back up to meet mine. “She likes it that much?”
Caught! He was totally checking me out. What the hell? How was I supposed to feel about that? Probably honored because the man was hot. So why did it send a zing of sensation to my lady parts?
Focus on the task at hand. Save your daughter’s tablet.
I swallowed. “Yeah. Her uncle sent it to her, and it’s her most prized possession.”
His lips twitched at that. Could he tell what his proximity did to me?
“I won’t take it. Just need to tweak some settings so she can’t be tracked.”
That made sense. Also, scooting this close to Morse hadn’t been my brightest idea. What was it about the leather and man scent that made my insides clench and flung all common sense out the door?
It was my turn to flee.
“I’ll be right back.”
I used my key to unlock the door and barged into the room. Stretched out on the bed with her tablet propped up on a pillow beside her, Morgan didn’t so much as flinch at my entry. Her eyes were closed, so I crept into the room.
“Hey,” Thia said from her perch on the sofa. She was watching some murder mystery show on the flatscreen TV mounted to the wall.
I put a finger to my lips and pointed to the bed. Thia craned her head around, saw that our girl was sleeping, and grabbed the remote to lower the volume before whispering, “How’d it go?”
Cutting her a look I was sure spoke volumes, I said, “Give me a sec. Then we’ll talk.”
Her eyebrows rose in question as she watched me filch Morgan’s cell from where it was charging on the nightstand. Then, I carefully plucked her tablet from its spot before rummaging through my purse to retrieve my own phone. Marching the devices back out the door, I stopped directly in front of Morse and thrust the tablet into his waiting hand.
Accepting it, he angled it toward me so I could key in the code before he tapped on the screen. Seconds later, he handed it back.
“I turned off the GPS and put it on our secure Wi-Fi. Please tell Morgan not to adjust any settings.”
“I will. Thank you.” I stuffed the tablet under my armpit and extended the phones. A problem with this little plan occurred to me, so I didn’t let go.
“What about Theo?”
He frowned. “What about him?”
The world was spinning out of control, and I couldn’t tell which way was up. But one thing was for sure. “I can’t just cut off communications with my son. What if something happens and he needs medical attention? He calls every few days and will freak out if he can’t reach either of us. The last thing we need is him hopping on a flight to do an in-person wellness check.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I stared up at him, drinking in all the changes to his face. He’d always been attractive, but the beard and the confidence were new. Still, this was my kid we were talking about. “How?”
“I’ll get in touch with him.”
“Don’t tell him I’m in danger.” There was no need for Theo to worry.
Morse shook his head. “He’s a grown man who deserves a heads-up about the situation. I won’t lie to him, but I will reassure him I’ve got it under control.”
It was a suitable answer, so I released the phones when he gave them another tug. “Thank you.”
He nodded and, to my surprise, stepped closer, invading my personal space. I sucked in a breath as the scent of him enveloped me. Dark blue eyes caught mine, and my heart skipped several beats, but not out of fear.
No, this was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
His jaw twitched, and I got the craziest feeling he wanted to kiss me.
Insane.
Right?
It was one thing for him to check me out, but this….
“You need anything, you come out into this hallway and wave to get the security team’s attention. Someone will come help you.”
Dragging my gaze from his lips to take in the sign that the hallway was being monitored, I nodded. “Someone?”
“Someone I trust. Someone you can trust, too.”
But it wouldn’t be him. Disappointment sat like a boulder in my gut.
“Goodnight, Amelia.” He suddenly spun and fled for the stairs.
I stared at his retreating back until it disappeared, waiting for… what, exactly?
Seriously, what the fuck?
Did you honestly believe he was into you, Amelia?
When I turned, Thia watched me from the door, her expression reflecting my own confusion.
“Uh… what was that?” Her finger waggled between me and the now-empty hallway.
Shrugging, I let out a chuckle even as heat singed my eyes. Blinking back tears, I let Thia usher me out of the middle of the hallway and back through our door.
She turned, giving me her full attention. “What’s going on?”
Glancing at my sleeping daughter, I said, “Not here.”
“We can go next door.”
“And leave her here alone?”
We locked Morgan’s door and slipped into the next room, keeping the door propped open so we could hear anyone in the hallway. I didn’t honestly believe all that was necessary, but this was my kid. I trusted Morse, but I didn’t know the rest of these bikers.
Thia leaned against the wall of the narrow entryway and let out a breath, cocking both eyebrows.
I mirrored her posture, facing her, and started with the easier of the two topics to discuss, which said a lot about my current state. “There’s no mistake. Someone legitimately wants me dead.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Who? How do you know for sure?”
“Morse took me into a conference room where a handful of bikers explained the threat and showed me the posting. All my information was listed, Thia. Everything. My freaking weight is now public biker knowledge.”
Of course, Morse had been there to see it. Freaking humiliating. And probably not what I needed to focus on.
She gasped in much-deserved horror. “Your real weight, or the fictional number you put on your driver’s license?”
At my look of outrage, she held up her hands. “Everyone does it. I’m not judging.”
“It’s called a goal, and yes. That one.”
“At least it’s not your actual.”
I made a sound in my throat.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean. I’m damn proud of my curves, and you should be, too. But back to the problem at hand. Do the bikers have any idea who put the hit out? Please tell me they’re about to bust into some asshole’s mansion like a biker SWAT team.”
“Unfortunately, no. They’re having trouble tracing the hit, but they’re working on it and doing the best they can.” A shudder slid up my spine, and the emotion I’d held at bay all day suddenly burned my eyes and clogged my throat. “Thia, someone genuinely wants me dead.”
She stepped forward, and I lifted my palm, gesturing for her to stay back. If she hugged me right now, I’d fall to pieces, which wasn’t what this situation needed. I took a deep, calming breath and tried to organize my thoughts. “Cell phones can be traced, so….”
“You surrendered yours. Do they need to take mine?”
“They don’t think there’s a need since you’re not on my plan. Why? Do you want to give your phone up? I’d give the experience zero stars; would not recommend. It’s only been a few minutes, and I already have hives. How will I know… anything? Do you have any idea how many questions I ask my cell every day? What am I supposed to do? Carry around an encyclopedia set?”
“I have my phone.” She tugged it out of her pocket and showed it to me, which was admittedly reassuring. “Morgan has her iPad. We’ll be your internet.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“I know.” She flashed me a smile, but it melted away as quickly as it had appeared. “But for real, Morse….”
“I don’t know what to do.” Admitting defeat was strangely liberating.
Thia’s piercing gaze encouraged me to continue.
“Are we crazy for coming here?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” At least she was honest.
“Something keeps bugging me,” I admitted.
“I know. It’s bugging me, too. Time to serve up a nice hot cup of Morse Tea. Girl, spill. What the fuck is going on between the two of you?”
I hesitated because I didn’t know. But in the end, I detailed everything he said and did. Then we took a brief intermission to check on Morgan and grab the bottle of wine from Thia’s luggage that, of course, she’d packed.
Morgan was snoring, so we stayed in the room with her, taking our bottle of wine to the sofa when we couldn’t find any glasses. It wasn’t the first time we’d played pass-the-bottle, and likely wouldn’t be the last.
“So, here’s the thing,” I said, enjoying a gulp before handing her the bottle. “If Morse had pretended he couldn’t hear me in the hallway, I would have marched in here, packed you guys up, and gotten the hell out of here.”
She took a drink and handed me back the bottle. “Why?”
“Because dodging the questions of someone whose life depends on you is rude. Levi would never treat me like that. If that’s how Morse rolls, how can I trust him? Trust is a crazy response to this guy, anyway. I mean, it’s been seventeen years since we’ve spent any time together. What was I thinking? He could be an assassin.”
I paused to take a breath, and she guided the bottle to my mouth. I took a healthy drink.
“Good,” Thia said, praising me for drinking, if I wasn’t mistaken. “Now let’s look at that last statement. If Morse was an assassin, he would have killed you by now. He’s had plenty of opportunities. A more likely scenario is that there is no threat to your life.”
“Good point, but the evidence…. They had my weight, Thia. Besides, why would he go through all this work just to… what? Be too busy to so much as talk to me?”
I took a second drink, realized what I’d done, and glared at the bottle. “I’m in danger. I should be clear-headed right now. What if the bikers bust in?”
She pried the bottle from my fingers and took a swig. “I imagine we’d be at their mercy. Same as if we were stone-cold sober. There’s no need to face this mess without a drink.”
“That actually makes sense.”
“Of course it does. Come to me for all of life’s cheat codes.”
“Deal.” I blew out a breath and tried to force my shoulders away from my ears. “What could I have possibly done to make someone want to kill me?”
Her expression softened, and she passed me back the bottle. “I don’t know, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. The bikers will find out who’s after you and why. In the meantime, you need a distraction. I suggest Morse since there’s clearly something going on there.”
I did not snort wine from my nose, but only because I forced myself to swallow before scoffing. “Did you miss the way he just fled from me? He didn’t want to tell me what he’s been up to.”
“So, don’t talk. There are much better uses for a mouth, and you two looked seconds from discovering what those might be in the hallway.”
“Were not.”
Okay, maybe we were.
Then why did he flee?
I didn’t ask the question because it was pointless. She wouldn’t have the answer any more than I did. Instead, I took another drink and let out a breath.
“Do you know what I was planning to do before he showed up at the house?”
Thia studied my face. Whatever she saw there filled her eyes with concern. “Um… Okay. Fine. I’ll bite. What?”
“A beauty treatment that should be considered self-harm.”
“I know you’re shit at taking care of yourself, but if self-care hurts, you’re probably doing it wrong.”
I laughed.
And laughed because she was full of shit. Most of the crap women did for beauty came with pain. I tried to tell her as much, but I’d underestimated the effects of downing half a bottle of wine in a matter of minutes, and it was impossible to talk while I was laughing.
Thia didn’t see the hilarity of the situation. She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Should I call someone else? An adultier adult?”
My laughter grew slightly deranged. Then a sob broke free, surprising us both. Thia’s eyes grew comically large as every emotion I’d suppressed since Morse showed up at my door hit me at once. This was insane. I was in hiding, my life in danger, and I was pining after a younger man. And my best friend was seconds from slapping a straitjacket on me.
She stood, taking the wine bottle to the sink and filling it with water. Then she offered it to me. Gratefully chugging half the bottle, I pulled myself together and mopped tears from my face with my sleeve.
“Where was I? Oh yeah, the beauty treatment. It's those little jars of collagen with a bunch of tiny needles you stab into your face. You can’t tell me that’s not self-harm.”
Her brow scrunched up. “You mean microneedling?”
“Yes!”
Thank God this woman got me because the struggle for words was real.
“So, you were going to microneedle…?” Thia asked, likely looking for the connection to literally anything else we’d talked about.
I was getting there, but it would take me a minute because... wine.
“It’s social media’s fault. I swear, whisper something once, and every corporation on earth bombards you with ads for the rest of your life. Anyway, I know I should feel honored to grow old because some people don’t get that privilege.” Hell, I might not get that privilege at this rate.
The concern on Thia’s face should have put a stop to my rambling, but I stumbled past the point of no return and kept right on going.
“These eye bags are getting real, and I’m desperate. So, yeah, I fed into consumerism and sacrificed a portion of my limited income to the gods of capitalism for the opportunity to punch that bitch, Mother Nature, right in her left tit.”
Thia cleared her throat and looked at me sideways. “Not sure if that was supposed to be a product endorsement, a confession, or a TED Talk, but you do you, boo. If fighting back the years makes you happy, then strap on those gloves and climb into that ring. But don’t believe for a moment that I’ll let you change the subject. I saw the way Morse was looking at you. Why don’t you think he’s interested?”
“Because no matter how many tiny needles I stab into my face, I’m still forty-three. He’s thirty-five, Thia.”
“So? You’re both consenting adults. You deserve to be happy, my friend, and there are literally fireworks exploding between you two. Do you have any idea how rare that level of attraction is? You’d be an idiot not to explore it.”
“You’re misusing the word literally.”
“Don’t harsh my dramatics.” She released me and tugged on a lock of her hair, angling it toward me. “My ends get singed just from being in your proximity. Shoot, do you know what I’d give for a woman to look at me like that?”
“He literally ran away.”
She shrugged. “So, he has demons. Don’t we all? I’m just saying, if he comes around, I want you to promise me you’ll put yourself first and do whatever makes you happy. For once.”
It was insane that we were talking about this, but I accepted her terms… with a caveat of my own, of course.
“Fine. But only if you promise you’ll do the same. No more putting yourself on sale, Thia.”
Leaning back, she thunked her head against the wall. “Fine. Deal. I’ll only date women who respect me, and you will one hundred percent ride that biker.”
I barked out a laugh.
She grinned at me.
“By the way, Thia, adultier adults can’t handle us.”
She downed the remaining wine-flavored water and wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. “Pussies.”