I'm so sorry it's been awhile since the last update! A combination of life, too many other stories I like to keep writing for, and work all added up. :) Thank you for the nice reviews and comments. And KC, thank you for your comment a couple chapters ago! I wish I could post more than one chapter at once, but I just post them as I write them. It would be a long wait if I waited to have more than one chapter written before I posted. (But I really, REALLY wish I could write more often!) Thanks so much for your support, though!
Chapter 26
Morgan sank down on the couch in Ezra's living room. It was a far cry from Buck's bachelor pad or Chris' ranch. The furniture was expensive and tasteful. Everything was modern. It may have still felt welcoming if it wasn't for what Morgan knew was coming. There was no way Buck wasn't going to follow her here. He would be at the door any second.
"I can tell your brother he's not welcome here," Ezra said. He set a mug of hot tea on a coaster on the coffee table in front of Morgan.
Morgan ignored the mug on the low table. She shook her head, rejecting Ezra's offer. There was no way she would hide behind Ezra. She would stare down Buck as he realized what she was. And no way in hell was she going to flinch. She didn't have anything to be ashamed of. She shoved away the memory of the look in his eyes when he saw her in the strip club.
Headlights flashed through the window as a truck pulled in. Another set of headlights swept the wall right after.
Morgan's entire body tensed. Somewhere between collapsing from exhaustion and wanting to rage against everything that was happening, her muscles had locked, ready to fight.
She could hear footsteps outside, an angry stride. The pounding on the door shook the glass panes in the window alongside the door. There was no pause, waiting for an answer. The door slammed open and Buck strode through, his eyes swinging over the room wildly until they landed on Morgan.
Ezra had already stood from his seat and took a step toward Buck.
"Buck," Ezra said, his voice firm.
Buck glared at Ezra as he shouldered past him, then turned his attention to Morgan.
Buck's height towering over her made her feel vulnerable. She stood. Lifted her chin. She wasn't going to let anyone ever make her feel like that again. She glared at him.
Ezra approached Buck, not put off by the treatment he had just received. "Slow down," Ezra said.
"Slow down?" Buck asked. "Slow down? Just slow down and act like it ain't a disgrace to see my sister on your lap in a strip club?!"
His voice rose to a shout. Morgan hardened her jaw, not willing to let Buck see how his words knifed through her. Not willing to give his harsh words a response. She wasn't going to waste her breath appeasing Buck with excuses.
But Vin, coming in behind Buck and Josiah, with Chris and the rest of the team, wasn't about to stand in silence. His words were sharp.
"Don't talk about Morgan like that."
Buck barely glanced at Vin before looking back at Morgan.
"What the hell are you doin' in a place like that?" he demanded.
Running from her past. Proving the senator couldn't control her. Saving money to do something—anything—different.
"It's none of your business," Morgan said, shoving down any sort of weakness.
"The hell it ain't!" Buck shouted.
"Oh grow up, Buck!" she snapped. "Like Mom didn't do the same thing! She just didn't get tips."
She knew she had crossed the one line Buck wouldn't allow. His eyes flashed and he jabbed a finger at her. "Don't talk about Mom like that." Morgan could hear the emotion threatening to choke his voice.
"She was a dancer, Buck. In Vegas. Wearing less than I wear to work and a lot more glitter."
The vein at Buck's temple pulsed and his voice vibrated with anger. "She was a Vegas entertainer." He bit out each word. "Not some stripper. What she did took talent and class and was a performance people bought tickets for." He looked like his anger at Morgan was going to choke him.
"She wore feathers and danced on stage," Morgan said, pretending she didn't care about angering Buck. "It doesn't matter that it was on a fancy stage with a whole cast of choreographed dancers and famous singers. She was an exotic dancer." Morgan dared Buck to argue with her.
"She didn't let filthy men put their hands on her!" Buck yelled, any grip of self-control lost. "She didn't throw herself all over my teammates!"
Morgan shoved past Buck harder than she needed to. "I'm leaving."
He grabbed her arm from behind. Reflexive fear and rage nearly choked Morgan. For a split second, it wasn't Buck. She wasn't in Ezra's house. It was Chad grabbing her, jerking her back when she tried to get away from him at his frat house, in the bar, after class.
Morgan spun around, yanking her arm free from Buck's grip. She hauled her free arm back and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.
The sound of her palm connecting with his cheek silenced the room.
"Don't you ever grab me," Morgan hissed through clenched teeth.
The pain in Buck's eyes when he looked at her nearly broke Morgan.
Palm still stinging, she took a step back. And then Vin was there. A warm hand on her back, his callouses rough against her bare skin on her lower back, but steady.
Morgan's breath came in harsh gasps, adrenaline coursing through her, ready to fight Buck.
"Let's all take a breath," Josiah's deep voice spoke calmly. Morgan felt anything but calm.
"No, let's all talk about what a mess I've made of things. That's what you want to say, isn't it, Buck?" Morgan felt Vin's hand press more firmly against her back as she started to shake with her anger.
"I didn't say that," Buck argued.
"But it's what you're thinking." Morgan gritted her teeth together and forced the words out. "I screwed up everything in Vegas, and now I'm here messing up your case, working in a strip club giving lap dances to your friend." She hated saying it in front of all of his teammates. But she wasn't going to back down. "Are you going to tell me you're just fine with all that? I'm not a mess?"
Buck jammed his fingers in his hair, turning away, two long strides carrying him away from her before he whirled back around. "You hit a rough patch," he said, his voice strained. "It happens. But, damnit, Morgan! Just cause trouble comes knockin' don't mean you gotta invite it in and pull up a chair!"
"Buck," Chris said in a low voice.
Buck sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, clearly fighting for control.
Morgan forced herself to pull away from Vin's touch and go pick up her bag near the door. She avoided meeting Ezra's eyes. "I need a ride back to my car. Blitz will figure it's been long enough that you got your use out of me." She heard Chris' harsh breath at her words.
Ezra's expression was neutral. He joined her at the door, getting his keys from the small table there.
Morgan looked over at Buck. She saw the brokenness in his posture, she didn't miss the way he couldn't look at her.
She couldn't say anything else around the knot in her chest. She shoved her way out the door toward Ezra's car.
#
"Are you sure you're ok?" Ezra asked. He knew Morgan wasn't, no matter what her answer was.
"Fine," she bit off.
He eased his expensive car to a stop in the nearly deserted parking lot behind the strip club.
Morgan reached for the handle of the door with jerky movements. She got the door open.
"Morgan," Ezra said before she could get out.
Morgan stopped, still not looking at him.
"As much as I admire your brother, and consider him a friend, I hope you know I'm not here with you out of any obligation to him."
Morgan's shoulders stiffened at his words. She didn't move.
"I'm here for anything you need."
Morgan's grip on her bag tightened and Ezra thought she was going to exit the car.
She looked back over her shoulder at him. Her amber eyes met his and Ezra kept himself from reaching out physically to reassure her of his loyalty to her. She clenched a trembling jaw and then her eyes hardened.
"I don't need anything," she said finally. She got out of the car and went to her car. Ezra waited to make sure she made it into the silver coupe and started the engine.
He watched her taillights until they pulled out of the lot and put his Jaguar into gear. The back door of the club opened and a slight form slipped through before the door closed behind her. Ezra stopped. He watched her move towards the street, head down.
He turned his car off and got out.
"Lei," he called across the dark lot, keeping his voice as low as possible, not wanting to startle her.
The waitress stopped and the look of quiet welcome on her face when she recognized him warmed Ezra in spite of the damp fall chill in the air.
"Ezra," she said. She came closer.
"Can I offer you a ride home?" he asked, looking across the lot at the single car left there. He assumed it belonged to Blitz or the bartender, whoever would be locking up.
Lei hesitated and Ezra read the silence.
"Your uncle," he surmised.
"He wouldn't appreciate a man bringing me home," she said softly.
"Then perhaps I could offer you a cup of coffee and a meal before you call it a night," he said, not sure what was coming over him. She worked for the man he was investigating. She didn't—couldn't—know his real last name or occupation.
But then she gave him the slightest smile and any qualms he had were shoved aside.
"There's a diner a few blocks away that makes the best eggs you'll ever eat at two a.m.," Ezra said, rounding his car and holding the door for her.
A small smile played at her mouth. "I like eggs," she said.
Lei slipped past him, into the leather seat, and Ezra closed the door for her.
At least Lei had made it out of the club, and would make it home, safe tonight. Ezra glanced at her delicate profile as he pulled out of the lot. He glanced in the direction Morgan had driven off. He sincerely hoped she would be safe as well.
The only sound in the car was the quiet hum of the engine as Ezra navigated the empty streets.
The neon light outside the diner flickered and buzzed. Ezra helped Lei from the car and escorted her inside. Out of habit, he scanned the establishment, looking for anyone who would know one of his identities or cause trouble. There was only a bored looking waitress sitting at the counter.
She stood when they chose a booth and brought them plastic covered menus. "Coffee?" she asked?"
Lei looked to Ezra. He didn't answer for her, waiting for her to decide.
"Decaf please," Lei said.
When the waitress took his order for the same and left, Ezra looked down at his menu.
"Can I ask you something?" Lei asked.
Ezra lowered his menu. Lei's dark eyes held his. He waited.
"Is Ezra your real name?" she asked quietly.
Ezra tried not to let the surprise show. He stilled. "Why would you ask that?" he hedged.
He should have laughed the question off as ridiculous. He would have with anyone else that he had met undercover. But not with Lei.
"Don't worry," Lei said in her gentle voice. "No one else knows. But I know you and Morgan know each other from outside the club. And…I want to help. Whatever it is you're doing. Blitz is a bad man. And the man who owns the club is even worse. You helped me. I want to return the favor."
Ezra pushed away the alarm that was starting to grow. Any other case he was working, having an asset, or an informant, would be a boon. But not Lei. Everything in him wanted to keep her as far as he could from the danger he knew was coming.
"It would be best if you didn't know any details," he finally answered her.
Her brow knit slightly, but she nodded.
Chris would probably kill him if he ever found out Ezra had turned away someone who most likely held valuable information that could help their investigation. But Ezra figured Mr. Larabee could just add that to his running list of offenses Ezra had committed.
"But, yes," Ezra continued. He wanted to give Lei something real, something honest, as little as what that could be in the middle of working the case. "Ezra is my name."
"Ezra," she said. The sound of her saying his name stirred something in Ezra that had long been ignored.
#
Morgan pulled into a parking spot behind Cobra's apartment. The brick building had seen better days. She dropped her head down against the steering wheel. She had seen better days, as well.
She sucked in a breath. She had made her decision. A whole line of decisions, and they had led her to this. To Buck's embarrassment, Chris' anger. Not deserving Vin. Every time she thought of the expression on Buck's face when she had hit him, her heart squeezed more painfully. He had looked at her like he was seeing exactly what Chad had done to her. And the humiliation of that was worse than anything else she faced with Buck.
Morgan lifted her head, stiffening her spine. She sucked in a breath. She would live with the consequences of her decisions.
Shoving aside thoughts of her brother, she slung her work bag over her shoulder and locked her car. She went to the dilapidated elevator and stabbed at the button for the floor Cobra and Spike lived on.
She thought of the cash she had made tonight, in her bag. Another week and she would have enough saved up for a deposit on an apartment of her own. It wouldn't be any nicer than Cobra's place, but it would be her own. After this week, she wouldn't have to sleep in Cobra's sagging couch. She wouldn't have to have some of her things at Cobra's, some at Buck's, and the rest in storage at Chris'.
Exhausted, she stepped out of the elevator when the doors slid open on the third floor. She couldn't wait to get out of her heeled boots.
She pushed open the door to the apartment and dropped her bag on the floor. She rolled her neck, the tension of the past hours knotting the muscles. With a sigh she opened her eyes. She saw a form on the couch.
Two forms.
A soft sound came from one of them and Morgan recognized the answering whisper as Cobra's.
Fury drove any exhaustion from Morgan. She slammed her hand against the light switch and the figures, limbs entangled, clothes on the floor, came into clear view.
"What the hell is this?" Morgan yelled.
Cobra-her boyfriend, the guy she thought she had an exclusive relationship with—blinked at her through drug fogged eyes.
"Morgan," he slurred. "You're back early."
Morgan felt her lips curl at the sight of him. "It's the same time I always get home," she snapped. "You and your friend lost track of time."
Cobra looked at the girl who was draped across him. The girl eyed Morgan, running unimpressed eyes over her.
"You want to join us?" Cobra asked, an unrepentant smile spreading across his face.
It was the smile that broke Morgan's control. The hurt, the rage, the shame she had just endured with Buck swept over her like a wave, suffocating her. Her entire world had fallen apart in the last few hours and he was smiling at her. Morgan wanted nothing more than to claw the smile from his face.
She went to the couch and grabbed the woman by the hair, pulling her away from Cobra. Her blood pumped heat through her body, her chest burning with rage. She didn't even care who the woman was. She let go of her hair and whirled on Cobra.
It was instinct to pull her arm back and swing at him the way Buck had taught her, with her full weight behind the hit. Cobra fell back against the sagging cushions from the force of Morgan's punch.
"Are you crazy?" Cobra yelled, one hand going to his eye, where Morgan had made a solid connection.
"Yeah, I am!" Morgan yelled back. "I'm crazy for thinking there was something between us! Crazy for being with you!" She started to position herself to launch another punch and Cobra shrank back.
"You're pathetic," she spat down at him. She turned and went to the kitchen, yanking open the cabinet near the fridge and pulling down the tin she had labeled with her name in black marker on tape. She pried the top off and stared.
Her money was gone. Two dollars sat at the bottom of the tin and the rest was gone. Everything she had saved.
"Babe," Cobra said, coming into the kitchen, zipping up his pants.
"Where's my money?" Morgan demanded.
"I was short on rent for Spike. And I owed Rick for what he scored for me last weekend."
Morgan stared at him.
"It's not that big a deal," he said.
Morgan's last bit of control snapped. She flung the tin aside, the loud clatter making Cobra jolt. She stormed to the living room and grabbed the bat Spike kept there, calling it his security system.
"Whoa! Hey! No, you don't gotta do this!" Cobra hollered, raising his hands helplessly in defense as if Morgan was going to come after him with it.
"You idiot," Morgan said in disgust. The bat wasn't for him. Not directly.
She grabbed her bag, bat in other hand, and strode out the door. She bypassed the elevator, going down the stairs.
She didn't hear Cobra behind her, but it didn't matter. Her anger was enough fuel without him driving her on.
She found his old car at the edge of the lot. She tossed her bag to the pavement. Wrapped both hands in a firm grip around the wood of the bat.
Just like Buck had taught her to throw a punch, he had taught her to swing a bat.
The first connection smashed the headlight with a satisfying shatter. The next hit put the first crumple into the hood. Another headlight exploded under her swing. A taillight. A door caved in.
Morgan's breathing came in quick gasps, sweat rolled down her back, plastered her hair to her forehead, in spite of the cool night. She barely registered the red and blue flashing lights that strobed across the parking lot. She wound up for a swing at the windshield, but a firm grip landed on the barrel of the bat.
"What—?" Morgan demanded. She whirled around, ready to yank her bat free and use it to do whatever she had to.
A uniformed police officer wrenched the bat from her hands. "Turn around, put your hands on the car," he said without emotion.
Morgan pursed her lips, lifted her jaw slightly.
"Hands on the car," the officer repeated, more firmly.
The lights flashed in her eyes. Morgan turned around, jaw clenched, putting her hands on the car, her fingers edging one of the dents she had made. The steel was cold against her overheated skin.
Her muscles ached from her rampage. But knowing she had just taken a step even farther from Buck hurt the worst of all.
#
