Chapter 17
Ezra and Vin weren't at the strip club, something that made Morgan feel like she could breathe. It had been three nights without them there. She had managed to turn up at Buck's to get her clothes when she needed them while he was at work, so hadn't had to face him either. She could only imagine what Buck was thinking about her now. Cobra's couch was comfortable enough, and he was gone often enough, that Morgan was able to convince herself that things were fine for now. She was setting aside money and could get her own place soon.
"I'm going to take my break," she said over the pounding music to another waitress.
The other waitress nodded and headed toward the new group that had just taken a seat in Morgan's section.
Morgan made her way to the locker room. She sank down on one of the folding chairs and kicked off her heels, giving her feet what little reprieve they would get for the night. And told herself it wasn't so bad. She was making good money. She liked her coworkers.
And then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She quickly looked away.
She went to her locker, intending to get the energy drink she had in her purse. Caffeine would get her through the rest of the night. Her phone was sitting there and Morgan took it out, forgetting about her drink.
She dialed the number before she could stop herself.
Two rings and then the groggy answer. "Yeah?"
Morgan swallowed hard, closing her eyes.
"Hello?"
Morgan took in a steadying breath through her nose. "Hey Buck," she said, managing nonchalance.
"Morgan?" He sounded more alert. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," she said, even managing a tight laugh like the question was ridiculous. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"What time is it?" Buck asked, and Morgan could picture him rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was younger and first woke up.
Morgan glanced at the clock on the wall. "A little after midnight," she said. She should have realized what time it was. "I didn't know it was so late. You should go back to sleep."
"No, that's fine," Buck said quickly. "It's good to hear from you."
Morgan looked down at her nails, digging into the sequins on her skirt.
"You sure you're ok?"
Morgan swallowed hard. "Yeah, of course." She pressed her lips together.
"You at work?" Buck asked.
"Yeah," Morgan answered. Guilt gnawed at her, at the thought of two of Buck's teammates knowing what she was doing and Buck being completely oblivious. "I'm on my break." She blinked at the tears that burned her eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll let you get back to sleep."
"Tell you what," Buck said. "Why don't I take you out for breakfast?"
She heard the forced cheer in her brother's voice and loved him for it at that moment. She nodded before she found her voice. "Yeah. That sounds good."
"Good," Buck said.
The silence stretched between them and Morgan glanced at the clock. "I should get back to work," she said.
"Sure," Buck said. "Hey, Mo?"
Morgan stopped before she hung up. "Yeah?"
"It's real good to hear your voice."
"You, too, Buck," she said, and then hung up because the knot in her throat was pushing too hard for her to force anymore words past.
#
Chris threw the last bale of hay down from the loft. He went down the ladder after it. Using his pocket knife, he cut the string on the bale and broke off enough flakes for the first horse. He went stall to stall, giving each horse hay, checking they had fresh water. His mind wasn't on the repetitive task, though. His thoughts hadn't strayed far from wondering what had happened to Ezra and Vin earlier in the week.
Ezra disappearing for hours without word wasn't anything concerning. Chris let out a snort. It wasn't even something unexpected. But Vin didn't leave his team hanging like that. Worrying. And Chris couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that whatever was going on with Vin had something to do with Morgan.
Morgan.
Chris slammed the door to the barn shut harder than he intended. He didn't register the morning sun that was burning off the chill of fall in the morning air. Thoughts of Morgan inevitably led to the feel of her lips against his, her fingers trailing through his hair, the way she had thrown herself at him like a weapon.
And the way he had responded.
He stopped before he reached the house. The empty house. He didn't want to go in there and face the quiet. Not when all it made him think about was how he didn't stop Morgan fast enough.
He bit back the curse that threatened to escape. He didn't know what Morgan was going through, but he was supposed to be protecting her. Even if it was just from herself.
He jammed his fingers in his hair in frustration. He needed to get out of here, away from his thoughts.
He changed course, heading towards his truck. He would go into Denver for breakfast, let the noise in The Saloon drown out his thoughts and get his head on straight.
He rolled his window down and punched the button for the radio as soon as he started down his long driveway. Anything to cover the silence. He debated calling Buck, seeing if he wanted to meet at Inez' bar and grill. He knew how hard Morgan's less than peaceful entry into Denver had been for Buck. But in the end, his phone stayed on the dash. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face Buck. The week had been tense enough with work to keep them occupied, but there was no way Chris could face Buck without that safety net between them right now.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot, he wanted nothing more than a beer. He went into The Saloon, thankful there was a decent size crowd for the distraction it provided, as well as for the boost it would give Inez' business.
He took an open seat at the bar.
Inez smiled warmly at him as she approached. "Are you here for my breakfast burritos?" she asked.
"Sure," Chris said. "But bring me a beer first. And a shot of whiskey."
Inez' eyebrows lifted slightly. "You do not want a Bloody Mary or Mimosa?" she asked, naming two more socially acceptable brunch drinks.
Chris gave her a look.
"Alright," she said. "I'll be right back with that."
Chris leaned his elbows forward on the counter, looking at the television set that was mounted in the corner. A morning newscaster promised an upcoming interview with Denver's very own Senator Hamilton Lowell about his promise to beautify Denver's parks.
Chris looked at the picture of the man with disgust, knowing how many innocents were being killed by the guns he was putting in the hands of the drug cartels. The program switched over to a commercial, promising lonely adults the chance to meet their soulmate if they signed up for the online dating app.
Thankfully Inez was quick and brought him the beer and whiskey shot. Chris tossed the shot back, wishing the burn as it went down would sear memories away.
"Your burritos will be ready soon," Inez said. "You let me know if you need anything else."
Chris got the feeling she didn't mean food, with the look of concern she gave him as he started on the beer. He thanked her, but didn't tell her there wasn't anything she'd be able to do. Not with Morgan involved. And not with Vin willing to lay everything on the line and risk it all for her.
#
Buck pulled open the door to Morgan's knock. He didn't tell her he had been watching out the window for her car. He stepped back and let her in. He held back any comment about the dark circles under her eyes.
"Real glad you're up for breakfast with me," he said.
There was a neediness in Morgan's eyes, like she was desperate to have someone want her around, that was more alarming than the dark circles. But then one side of her mouth was pulling back wryly and she was looking around his living room like she didn't have a care in the world.
"I'm surprised you have time for breakfast with me," she said, a bit of humor lightening the shadows in her eyes. "I was sure you'd have some girl in your bed and you'd be trying to impress her with your world famous omelets."
Buck didn't bother to tell her all his efforts to woo Inez hadn't left him any time to bring home other ladies in months. That, since he had gotten to know Inez better, he hadn't had any interest in chasing after any other women. Instead, he feigned offense. "I make things besides omelets, you know," he said.
Morgan tilted her head, a silent challenge for him to name one other thing.
"Macaroni and cheese," he said. "With hot dogs cut up in it."
Morgan let out a short laugh and Buck let the sound warm him. He knew Morgan was thinking of all the nights their ma was at the casino dancing and Buck was at home taking care of a younger Morgan. That meal had been a staple of their nights together.
"You ready for some real food?" he asked.
"I need to grab some of my stuff," she said.
And just like that, the warmth was gone. The reminder that she wasn't staying with Buck, just had her stuff here, chased off any of the sentimental memories.
Buck followed her up the stairs. He still hadn't managed to move back into his room. He kept telling himself Morgan would need it. That this might be the night she showed up.
Morgan moved to one of the two laundry baskets she appeared to be living out of and sorted through the neatly folded clothes.
"Why in the blazes is there glitter everywhere?" Buck asked, looking at the shimmering layer of dust that seemed to be on half her clothes.
Morgan paused, her shoulders tensing slightly, then continued sorting through the clothes. "Because it doesn't come off in the wash easily," she answered.
She picked up a small stack of clothes and stood.
Buck looked from the clothes to her. "You know, you wouldn't have to keep coming for your things if you just stayed here."
Again, that look of raw need in her eyes. And again, it was gone quickly. "Most of my stuff's over at Cobra's now," she said, a challenge in her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she goaded him, tested him.
Buck took a deep breath. It was that need he had seen in her eyes that kept him from snapping at her. He tried for something that sounded like he wasn't rising to the challenge. "I like havin' you here."
Morgan rolled her eyes and Buck forced himself to bite his tongue again.
"You hungry? Inez makes the best chilaquiles." It was the best he could do.
"Chilaquiles sound better than omelets," Morgan said with a smirk, looking like her old smart ass self for a minute.
"Get in the truck," Buck said with a grin. He'd take what he could get with Morgan for today.
#
Morgan got out of Buck's truck and headed across the parking lot towards the restaurant Buck seemed to favor. Though she wasn't sure if it was the restaurant or the owner that drew her brother.
She thought of Inez, how easily Inez had figured out the type of place Morgan was working. She said a silent prayer that Inez would keep her word and not say anything to Buck. At least not today. Not when she had found some breathing room and Buck seemed willing to give her the breathing room.
Buck slung his arm around her shoulder and grinned down at her. Morgan didn't pull away. Pretending that everything was fine.
Buck opened the door to The Saloon for her and Morgan stepped inside, scanning the crowd for an open table. She stopped, her eyes landing on the familiar form at the bar.
Buck must have seen him, too, because he stopped and called across the clink of glasses and loud hum of conversations. "Hey, Larabee!"
Chris turned his head and looked at Buck. His eyes met Morgan's. Her tentative peace from a moment before hardened into regret when he held her gaze, his entire face tightening.
"Come on, get a table with us," Buck called.
Morgan saw the hard line of Chris' shoulders, knew what the long hesitation meant.
Knew she was the reason.
"Come on, Chris," she said, hearing the taunting in her voice. Wanting to keep him at even more of a distance so she didn't have to face him again. Losing Chris, who had been as much of a brother to her as Buck had been for the past ten years, would hurt more than losing a limb. But it also hurt less than seeing the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at her and the way he worried about Vin getting close to her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head, watching Chris' back. "Why don't you want to come sit with us?"
Even from the distance, she could see Chris' grip tighten on his beer bottle. But he turned around and headed their way.
"There's a table in the back," Buck said. "Let's get moving, I need to order something before my stomach starts eatin' itself."
Morgan turned her attention away from Chris, her own jaw tightening to match his.
Buck pulled out a chair for Morgan and she sat, reaching for the menu, avoiding looking at Chris.
She shouldn't have come. She shouldn't have tried to walk this line between Buck and her life at the club. She definitely shouldn't be sitting at the same table as Chris, pretending she hadn't pushed him as hard as she could. A week wasn't enough time to recover from what she had done. No amount of time would be.
She was about to slap her menu down on the table when Buck yelled a greeting and waved to someone else.
Morgan looked up and saw Vin coming through the door.
She knew she should push her chair back and make an excuse to get out of there. But she couldn't.
Vin greeted Buck and Chris. When he looked at her, his blue eyes were warm.
"Hey Morgan," he said.
Morgan could feel both Buck and Chris' eyes on her.
"I need a drink," she said. She shoved her chair back then and headed for the bar.
She found an empty space and motioned for Inez.
Inez approached. "I'll be right over to get your orders," she said. "I just have to bring out some drinks first."
Morgan shook her head. "I just need a shot. Whiskey. Whenever you get a minute."
Inez gave her an appraising look. "Buck said Chris helped raise you. It shows."
"What?" Morgan asked.
Inez shook her head lightly. "Nothing. I'll be right back with that."
Morgan nodded. She kept her eyes fixed behind the bar, unwilling to turn back to the table where her brother and Chris sat. And Vin.
Her fingers curled into her palms. She looked up at the television behind the bar. And straight at an image of Hamilton Lowell.
Even seeing a picture of him was enough to send a knife of pain through her. Followed by anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Fear.
The newscaster spoke with a bright smile, explaining the good works the senator performed for the people of Denver.
Morgan stared at the familiar face of the senator, live on the screen now, false modestly in his expression as he thanked the newscaster and motioned to the park behind them.
A curse escaped between Morgan's clenched teeth. She thought of the first time she had met the senator. Chad had brought her to his family's Vegas vacation home. Hamilton Lowell's eyes had raked over her and Morgan had responded with a bold stare of challenge. She knew what he had been seeing. Some girl from the wrong side of the tracks his son was passing time with. It had kept her with Chad in spite of the bruises. In spite of the cracked ribs. She was going to prove to the senator—to everyone—that she could be with Chad and no one needed to look down on her.
And then Chad had started to bring her around the warehouse. Around the club his dad owned in Vegas. And she hadn't been as stupid as Chad and his father thought. She had known what the family business really was.
On the flat screen in Inez' bar, Senator Lowell explained the funds for the park had been raised through a fundraiser for the women's shelter next door to the park.
"There's nothing more upsetting than knowing a woman is unsafe in her relationship," the senator said, his face pulling into an expression of concern. "The Lowell Family Foundation wanted these women—who have been through so much—to have a peaceful outdoor space next to the shelter. Somewhere they could feel safe after everything they've been through."
Morgan whirled away from the counter. She was done. She wasn't having brunch with Buck. She couldn't pretend.
She collided with a solid body and gave the man an angry shove even as she jerked back.
"Easy," came Vin's voice. He took the hit without moving and searched Morgan's face.
She averted her eyes and he followed her gaze up towards the television.
She met his eyes when he looked back at her, surprised at the determined anger in them.
"He ain't gonna walk away from this," Vin promised. "We're gonna make sure he pays for everything. Everything."
Morgan shook her head. As much as she wished Vin's words were true, she knew better. The Lowell family was too powerful. They would never pay for anything they had done. She had experienced firsthand what happened when someone stood up to them.
Vin's hand on her arm didn't make her flinch. It was warm and she wanted to lean into it.
She pulled away.
Vin didn't push. "Come on," he said, no pressure in his words. "Come sit down. Have some breakfast."
Morgan set her jaw. She looked over her shoulder at the phony smile on the senator's face.
Vin startled her when he strode past her, going behind the bar and reaching up to the buttons on the side of the television set. He flipped the channel over to a sports network and started back towards Morgan. Inez stopped him with a shotglass and a nod towards Morgan.
Vin brought the glass to Morgan. She took it, some of the amber liquid splashing over the side of the glass when she couldn't hide the trembling in her hand. She caught Chris watching the two of them. She tossed back the drink, blowing out a breath against the burn.
"Better?" Vin asked.
"No," Morgan answered honestly. It would take more than whiskey to fix anything.
But she went with Vin to the table, took the seat next to Buck, across from Vin and picked up the menu again, curling her fingers around the edge, keeping her eyes fixed on the words rather than any of the men sitting with her.
She heard Vin ask Buck about a repair Buck had been working on for his truck, Buck's easy answer. As the conversation flowed easily, Morgan felt her muscles unclench. When Chris answered a question from Vin and join in, Morgan finally took a breath.
She looked at Vin. He gave her a small wink.
Morgan told herself the warmth in her chest was from the whiskey.
#
