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Chapter 11

Morgan pulled over on the side of the street, half a block from Buck's house. She couldn't pry her hands from the steering wheel.

She had let her anger, her fury at Chris' words, drive her from his ranch and back into Denver. But now that she was within sight of Buck's townhouse, she couldn't make herself go the rest of the way. She rubbed her hands over her face. She should probably regret letting her anger take over at Chris'. It was another decision in the long line of many that she was going to be paying for, but she wasn't going to allow regrets. About anything.

She picked up her phone, wanting to hear Vin's calm voice. She dropped the phone without dialing. Chris' concern for Vin echoed against her conscience.

She stared straight ahead, through the windshield, at the houses that lined the street Buck had chosen for home. She didn't belong here.

Her legs started to feel restless, her blood moving faster. She needed to get away from thoughts of Chris and Buck. And Vin.

She picked up her phone again, scrolling through the texts from Chris and Buck over the past few days, demanding to know where she was. A new text from Vin, wanting to know if she had made it back to Buck's ok. She ground her teeth together as she ignored it, Chris' words ringing in her ears. She opened the text from Ezra, wanting to know who she favored to win the big boxing match tomorrow night.

She texted him back, ignoring the question he had asked. Instead, she asked where she could find action tonight. She didn't have to wait long before she got a return text with an address.

Needing to move, to be doing anything other than giving in to the trouble that would come with feeling something, she turned her car on and turned it around, driving away from Buck's.

#

Buck answered his phone on the first ring. "What?" He hoped Chris was calling to say he had heard from Morgan.

"Did Morgan make it home?" he asked.

Buck paced across his living room. "No. Did you hear from her?"

There was a pause before Chris answered. "She stopped by."

The relief that coursed through Buck was instant. "She's ok?"

Again that pause.

"Chris?"

"She's in one piece," Chris answered. "Said she was heading back to your place."

Buck looked out the window as if he may have missed Morgan showing up. "She ain't here."

Chris cursed under his breath. "She left here an hour ago."

Plenty of time to make it back to Buck's.

"So where is she?" Buck asked, as if Chris would know.

Chris' deep sigh carried through the phone line. "Have you talked to Vin?"

Buck wished Chris would give him a straight answer to one of his questions. "What's Vin got to do with Morgan?" Then realization dawned on him. "You think he could track her down?"

"I'll call him." And Chris disconnected.

Buck paced to the big bay window at the front of the house again, looking outside for any sign of Morgan. He hadn't asked Chris what she was driving, how she had found a car.

He ran both hands through his hair. He wondered how many gray hairs Morgan would give him. Maybe none. He'd probably pull all his hair out in frustration before it had a chance to go gray.

"JD!" he called up the stairs. He'd had enough of Chris' rules about what was or wasn't legal. And more than enough of Morgan's games. He started up the stairs, catching JD as he came out of his room, bleary eyed and hair sticking up. Buck glanced at his watch. After midnight.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Buck apologized.

JD rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. "It's fine. What's going on?"

Buck ran a hand over his mustache, wondering if he should ask JD to defy Chris, knowing the kid would do it for him.

"Nothing," Buck sighed, feeling his shoulders drop in defeat.

JD frowned in confusion and Buck could imagine what the younger man was thinking. Buck's nights had been a restless combination of dozing and pacing since Morgan had taken off. His days had been him trying to do his job with his thoughts on anything but the job, and shooting off texts to Morgan that she ignored.

"C'mon, Buck," JD said. "Let's see if there's a movie on."

Buck appreciated what the younger man was trying to do and was set to tell him to go back to bed, he was sorry for waking him. But, honestly, the thought of not spending another night on his own, wrestling with doubts and regrets about Morgan, didn't sound half bad.

#

Vin wished he was up at his cabin. There he could see the stars, hear the wind. In the city, and especially in the rough neighborhood of Purgatorio, all he heard were distant sirens. There wasn't any sign of stars beyond the streetlights.

Vin sat on the concrete stoop outside his apartment building. The same place he had found Morgan waiting for him earlier in the week. It felt like a lifetime ago. After being by Morgan's side in Las Vegas, seeing what had been done to her, knowing she was at the mercy of a crooked senator and his son, he felt like they had spent more than a few days together.

Across the parking lot, a couple of young teens yelled to each other as they played basketball at the hoop in the corner of the lot. It was well after midnight, and they were most likely too young to be out unsupervised this late, but Vin remembered being the one with no one to look out for him.

His phone vibrated and he pulled it from his coat pocket, hoping it was Morgan.

"Is Morgan with you?" Chris asked without preamble.

Vin frowned. Morgan had said she was going out to Chris' when she dropped Vin off. She had insisted it was better he didn't go with her.

"Ain't seen her," Vin said. He stood, as if ready to go find her.

"She didn't go back to Buck's after she came by here." He could hear the frustration in Chris' voice. Vin knew, better than anyone after seeing Morgan in Las Vegas, that she could take care of herself. He also knew, better than anyone, that she would find trouble and not hesitate to make things go from bad to worse.

"She ain't here," Vin said, already thinking of where Morgan would go.

Chris hung up without another word. Vin grimaced. He looked down at his phone. Morgan had never answered his text. He thought of where she would go in Denver. Where she could go. She didn't know anyone besides Chris and Buck. And Ezra. Ezra had texted her in Vegas, looking for her opinion on placing some bets.

Vin typed in the short question, assuming as always that his phone's autocorrect would make his spelling intelligible.

If she wasn't with Ezra, he wasn't sure where he'd look for her.

Within a few minutes, his phone buzzed with the return message. She was with Ezra.

At least she wasn't alone. Having to make his peace with that for now, Vin got up and headed to the basketball game. He knew at least two of the teens who lived in his building, had helped one of them fix his beat up car when it stopped running.

"Hey Vin," Diego said, tossing the ball to him.

Vin took the ball, dribbled it a couple times.

"It's you and Manuel against me and Jason," Diego said.

Vin nodded his understanding and passed the ball to Manuel. The lanky teen took it to the chalk line that marked the top of the court.

Vin reminded himself of all the ways Morgan could take care of herself. He told himself Ezra wouldn't let anything happen to her.

He accepted a hard pass from Manuel and dribbled around Diego, turning to pass the ball back to his young teammate. His thoughts drifted back to Morgan as Manuel took a shot and made the basket. Vin gave Manuel a high five as the teen jogged past.

The trouble was, Vin could imagine what sort of place Morgan and Ezra would find to pass a Friday night.

#

"I can't imagine your brother or Mr. Larabee would appreciate you going into a den of inequity."

Morgan gave Ezra a look that he assumed was supposed to make him cower. "It's a fight club," she countered.

"As I said," Ezra said.

"So what are we waiting for?" she asked. And then her hard look eased into a half a smirk and a challenge in her eyes.

Ezra couldn't imagine what had Buck's younger sister texting him to go to an illegal cage fight after midnight, but he also couldn't imagine letting her—or really any woman—go on her own. A feeling that was confirmed when she had pulled up at the address he sent her and he had seen her reach into her purse for makeup to apply and had exited the car with heavily lined eyes and a low cut t-shirt she had tied in a knot to reveal a toned midriff above a short jean skirt.

Definitely not a woman who should be going to illicit locations on her own.

Ezra held out an arm in a 'ladies first' gesture, allowing her to go into the abandoned building on the outskirts of Denver that hosted regular events for illegal gambling. He suspected Chris knew that Ezra was a regular there, but they both justified Ezra's weekend activities as useful for his undercover forays.

Ezra's eyes moved, alert to the regulars and the unfamiliar faces, more on guard behind his casual gait with Buck's sister with him.

Morgan moved through the crowd easily and Ezra had his suspicions that this wasn't her first time at this sort of venue. She went up to the makeshift bar and held up two fingers. She reached in the pocket of her jean skirt and pulled out some cash. Ezra stepped in, getting out his own billfold and Morgan turned a look of half annoyance, half unimpressed whiskey colored eyes on him.

"This isn't a date," she said.

"I know," Ezra said evenly. "That's why I'm only paying for my drink."

The tight line of her lips relaxed slightly. "Good."

"Good," Ezra agreed.

He added his cash to hers for the beer, then nodded toward the table in the back corner.

Morgan took a long pull from her bottle before falling in step with him to go place their bets.

Ezra looked at her when they got to the table. She had an intuitive knack for picking winners that had nothing to do with statistics. Something that had netted Ezra several large sums last weekend thanks to Morgan's advice.

"The little guy in black's going to win," she said.

Ezra looked at her in question. "He's lost his last four fights."

Morgan shrugged. "It's your money to lose." She went to the table and shoved a folded stack of bills to the man taking bets. She took her ticket for the underdog and stepped back. "He's got scars on his right hand. He's going to fight hard from the right. And the guy he's fighting, he's missing teeth on his left side. He's going to shy away on his left."

Impressed, Ezra put his large sum on the table, placing his bet on the smaller man in black.

He found them seats on the makeshift bleachers, rather than standing in the mass. He had no doubt Morgan would have preferred to stand near the cage, with blood and sweat splattering out on them. However, Ezra had no intention of trying to keep things under control with Morgan and the characters around them if they were all pressed in together in the crowd on the floor.

The fighters came out to the yell of the crowd.

Buck's sister cupped her arms around her mouth and let out a shout that entailed calling for blood.

Ezra's lips twitched in amusement and he took another drink from his beer. Inside the cage, the two fighters circled one another before lunging forward and Morgan let out another cheer.

Ezra's phone vibrated in his pants pocket and he pulled it out. A text from Vin. He wanted to know if Morgan was with Ezra. If she was ok.

Ezra watched Morgan sit back in her seat on the makeshift bleachers as she took another pull from her beer. The hollow look in her eyes was familiar. Ezra had seen it in his own mirror enough times.
He sent back a message. She's with me.

Vin's response was one word. Good.

Ezra hadn't expected that. But for whatever reason, Vin thought Morgan was safe with him. It made the responsibility—something he had spent a good portion of his life either avoiding or pretending to want no part of—weigh more heavily on him.

"Who's that?" Morgan asked, looking at his phone.

"No one," Ezra said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He nodded toward the fighters back on their sides, ready to go another round, one of the men already clearly injured. "I do believe you predicted another one correctly."

Morgan let out a sound of derision. "Yeah, I make nothing but good calls." Her lips twisted bitterly and then she took another drink.

Ezra felt his own lips move in a humorless smile. "Well, then, that makes two of us." He held up his bottle and Morgan moved hers to tap against his with a sound that was lost in the noise around them.

Morgan settled in alongside him to watch the next round. Ezra held back a smile when she came up with all new variations of death to cheer for.

In the end, it was a short match, Morgan's bet paying off for both of them when the long shot won. Ezra stuck with her as they went to collect their payout.

Suddenly, Morgan spun around, ducking her head, an apparent sudden and riveting interest in something behind Ezra.

Ezra moved to accommodate her move, acutely aware of the two men Morgan was making sure couldn't see her face. He shifted more to provide her better coverage.

When the men had moved on, Ezra looked at Morgan. "Friends of yours?" he asked.

She clenched her jaw. "Something like that." She didn't give him any further information. Then she turned back to cash out on her winnings. While she waited for them to count out her money, she kept her eyes straight ahead, but spoke to Ezra. "Thanks," she said.

"I assume I can ask you to repay me by not telling your brother or Mr. Larabee that I brought you here?"

Morgan looked at him from the side of her eye. "I don't think I'm on speaking terms with either one of them right now. I won't be telling them anything."

Ezra nodded. He collected his money, counted it and pocketed it. He saw Morgan glance around.

"They're on the far side of the ring," he said. He had made sure to keep tabs on them after they passed by Morgan.

Morgan didn't ask who he was talking about, or pretend she didn't know. She didn't offer any details about the two men and why she was avoiding them.

"I should go," she said. "I start my job tomorrow."

That was the first Ezra had heard about that. He glanced at his watch. "I hope it's not an early start."

"Not till ten tomorrow night."

Another think Ezra didn't ask for details about. He had the growing suspicion that he and Morgan didn't excel in talking about feelings or personal details. And he was well aware of what kind of job would start at ten pm. He saw her to her car, keeping an eye on the building, making sure the two men didn't come out of the building until Morgan was well on her way towards the highway.

And then he let himself wonder how on earth Morgan Wilmington knew two of Senator Lowell's hired thugs. And why she was hiding from them.

#