LuvReading and AngstyTales, thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter! Guest, thank you for taking the time to leave a review! I'm not sure if you feel like the story is moving slowly or my updates are (and my updates DEFINITELY are moving slowly, lol!), but things should be picking up speed as things progress. :) Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 22

Sam laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She listened to the crickets outside her window. It was late, after midnight. She couldn't sleep.

She rolled over and picked up her phone from her nightstand.

How are you?

She sent the simple text, not expecting an answer from Morgan. Or at least, not an honest answer. Morgan was several months into insisting she was fine, even as every decision she made showed she clearly wasn't.

Sam would give anything to be able to go to Morgan right now. Tell her best friend that her house arrest had been escalated to a full prison lockdown after Chris had picked her up from school today. And the worst part wasn't being stuck at home. It was the way Chris looked at her. Something she wouldn't even have to tell Morgan. Morgan would just know.

Any other time Sam was in trouble, she could have gone over to Morgan's. Rode out the storm with Chris under Buck's supervision.

Sam finally sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She wasn't getting sleep any time soon. Not with how on edge she felt. She slipped quietly across her room, opening the door silently. She padded into the kitchen, pulling down a glass and running the tap water to get it cold enough.

She took a long drink of the cold water.

The silent house was still and dark around her. She paced the kitchen, debating going out to the barn to see the horses. A change of scenery and some fresh air might settle her.

She just needed something to take the edge off.

She went to the living room, avoiding the floorboard in the hallway that creaked.

The cabinet where Chris kept his liquor was next to the television cabinet. Sam knelt and opened the cabinet doors.

It was empty.

She should have expected this. Chris must have recognized the bottle of whiskey in her backpack as one of his. One Sam had taken from this cupboard.

"Thirsty?"

Sam turned with a jolt, her sunstreaked hair falling into her eyes.

Chris stood in the doorway of the room, his face shadowed.

Sam lifted her chin defiantly, blowing hair out of her face. She closed the cabinet and stood.

"Looking for something to bring to school tomorrow?" Chris asked.

"Oh come on," Sam said, trying for a posture that would show Chris how very much a not big deal this was. "Like you and Buck never got caught drinking."

Chris' lips thinned. "I wasn't carrying around a fifth of whiskey in my backpack," he said.

"I wasn't either," Sam retorted. "It was half gone."

Buck would have laughed at her response. Morgan would have lifted an eyebrow at Chris and dared him to argue with Sam's very true response. But their makeshift family was all pulled apart right now and there was no one but her and Chris.

"Get back to bed," Chris said. "You have school in the morning."

School. Facing an endless day with no sign of Morgan, no idea how Morgan was doing, and pointless classes, knowing she got to go home to Chris' looks of disappointment. But she saluted Chris.

"Don't be a smart aleck," Chris snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Well, that made two of them. Sam was losing patience with the entire situation, herself.

She went back to her room and closed the door, keeping enough control to avoid slamming it. She listened to Chris out in the living room. A heavy sigh. The wood floor creaking as he paced. She finally heard him head toward his bed.

She waited until there were no more noises. She was more wound up than before.

#

Ezra told himself it didn't matter that Sam Larabee hadn't texted or called in three days. She was, after all, his police handler's younger sister. And still in high school. And a magnet for trouble. All valid reasons to feel relieved she appeared to have lost interest in any sort of ongoing contact with him. There was no reason to feel anything but relief. Certainly no reason for him to check his phone and frown when there was no contact from her.

Ezra made his way up the flight of stairs to his studio apartment. It had been a late night, luck on his side as he cleaned up at the poker table. He checked the time on his phone before sliding it into his pocket. Three a.m. Maybe an early morning was more accurate.

Someone was sitting in front of his door.

He paused, ready to defend himself if it came to that, then realized the form was familiar.

Sam looked up at him from where she sat, leaning back against the door.

"I'm afraid I don't need any Girl Scout cookies," Ezra said when she didn't say anything.

"Good thing I'm not a Girl Scout," Sam said. Dark circles under her eyes spoke louder than the light words.

She started to get to her feet and Ezra held out a hand to assist her. She took the help, her hand cold in his, and stood. She looked up at him. Ezra didn't pull his hand back.

"Just out enjoying the night?" Ezra asked.

Sam scowled. "Avoiding my jailer."

Ezra knew Sargent Larabee well enough after regular contact over the past year or two. The man drew a hard line and he stuck to it. But he wasn't cruel. And Ezra had a feeling Sam wasn't giving her brother the easiest time lately. It felt unsettling to sympathize with the lean policeman.

"Trouble at home?" Ezra asked.

Sam's lips thinned.

She was about as talkative as her older brother, Ezra mused.

"Would you like to come in?"

Sam did step back from him then, making room for him to unlock his door. He got the door unlocked and held it open for her. Sam went into his small apartment.

Ezra flicked on lights.

"Do you need a midnight snack?" he offered.

Sam shook her head, still resolutely silent.

Ezra nodded. "Are you tired?" he asked. She certainly looked like she needed sleep.

"Do you have something to help with sleep?" she asked.

Ezra tried not to let a reaction show on his face. A stiff drink would probably be the first thing he asked for after the night like the one she had apparently had. He went to his kitchen cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He poured a small amount in a glass.

He watched as Sam tossed it back. Her vivid eyes closed, clearly needing the drink for more than just sleep. He expected her to hand her glass back over for another shot, but she just set the glass aside much to his relief.

"Thanks," she said.

She was already in what appeared to be pajamas. Sweatpants and tank top, a sweatshirt mostly zipped over her tank. "Would you like to take the bed?" Ezra offered. Many nights he fell asleep on the couch, so it wouldn't matter to him if he stretched out there for what was left of the night.

Sam shook her head. "Can I crash on your couch for the night?"

Ezra gestured toward the sofa in invitation.

Sam thanked him again and sat on the couch, pulling her feet up next to her. She didn't say anything more.

Ezra handed her a blanket from the foot of the bed. He gathered his own pajamas and headed to the bathroom to prepare for his own bed.

When he came out, Sam was sound asleep, the blanket haphazardly drawn over herself, a throw pillow under her head.

The bed was near the couch. When Ezra pulled back the covers and got beneath them, he was afforded a clear view of Sam's sleeping face.

Her presence didn't exactly settle him to sleep.

#

Vin watched Morgan.

She picked at her breakfast, shoving eggs around with her fork, breaking her toast into pieces, none of which made it into her mouth. He was about to ask her if she wanted something else to eat, when his housemate Rob came in.

Morgan gripped her fork more tightly. Her jaw was clenched so tightly, Vin didn't figure she was going to eat anything. Vin slid his chair slightly so his leg brushed against hers.

Rob grinned at Morgan, clearly enjoying her discomfort and Vin bristled. Vin pushed his chair back and stood. He made sure to keep himself between Morgan and Rob.

Rob's grin faltered slightly at Vin's stance, ready to fight. But he recovered and sauntered over to the counter, propping a hip against it.

"How're the newlyweds this morning?" he asked with a smirk. He pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket.

"Don't smoke around her," Vin said.

Rob lit the cigarette and blew the smoke in Morgan's direction.

Vin took a step toward Rob, ready to pull the cigarette from his mouth. There was no way Morgan should be breathing in the smoke when she was pregnant.

"I'm going upstairs," Morgan said behind Vin, halting his move toward Rob. She met Vin's eyes briefly. He could see the unease in every move she made, but also her attempt to cover it.

"You want to wait out by the truck?" Vin asked. They had the Bronco now. He could get Morgan out of here for awhile at least.

Morgan changed course and headed toward the back door.

Rob idly watched Morgan leave. When he noticed Vin glaring at him, he blew another stream of smoke out, right at Vin's face.

It took everything in Vin not to launch himself at the guy. He turned and went outside.

Morgan was standing next to the SUV. Her arms were crossed in front of her and at first anyone would think she was just waiting patiently. But Vin saw the way her hands gripped at her elbows and the slight tremble in her lips.

"Sorry about that," Vin said. It wasn't enough. He needed to do more than apologize. He was supposed to take care of Morgan. Not force her to live with jerks like Rob.

Morgan rolled her eyes and tossed her hair, but couldn't quite pull off the act that she was fine.

Vin opened the passenger door for her.

"You going to school today?" he asked her.

"Are you?" she countered.

Vin's mouth kicked up in a smile. Even after all he knew she had been through, she wasn't short on attitude. "I work today," he said.

Morgan nodded. Vin hesitated. She couldn't be home with his housemates today. Not any day. Not with the way she looked after that run in. He really needed to figure something out.

"You want to call Sam?" he asked. "I can drop you off with her."

It was the first time in days he had seen any sort of flash of emotion from Morgan.

"Yeah," she said, actually sounding like she meant it. "I'll call her."

Vin watched from the corner of his eye while Morgan tapped the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. It was the first spark of anything close to enthusiasm he had seen from her in days. Her expression lifted and he assumed her call had been answered, but then fell in confusion and darkened with concern.

"I'm looking for Sam," Morgan said. There was an edge to her voice. "Who's this?" Protective instinct had him listening more closely, trying to hear the voice on the other end.

"Ezra?" Morgan asked. Her protective dislike faded into just confusion. "Why do you have Sam's phone?"

Vin couldn't catch all of Ezra's words, but enough to figure out Sam had showed up at Ezra's at some point during the night and was still sleeping. He wouldn't have even had to look at Morgan to gauge her response. The resigned disappointment in her voice made her thoughts clear.

"Ok," she was saying. "Let Sam know I called, will you?"

Again Ezra spoke. Saying there was no reason Morgan couldn't come over and Sam looked like she could use a friend. Vin had grown to like the guy on their interstate felony trip. But he liked him even more when he saw the spark of life return to Morgan's eye.

Morgan repeated back an address and glanced over at Vin. Vin gave her a slight nod. He had a rough idea of the neighborhood they were heading toward. Morgan ended the call.

"We heading to Ezra's?" Vin asked.

Morgan nodded. She looked out the windshield like she was intent on getting them there herself. Even that hint of eagerness for something—for anything—was a relief to see.

Vin figured he owed Ezra one for inviting Morgan on over so she could see Sam.

#