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Chapter 23

Morgan wanted to see Sam. She hadn't realized how much she wanted—needed—to see her best friend until Vin pulled up in front of an old brownstone and she saw Sam's car. Everything had changed. Sam was uncertain around Morgan, too quiet and too careful, not something Morgan was used to with the friend she counted as a sister. And Morgan wasn't any better. She hadn't told Sam she was pregnant.

She closed her eyes and for the millionth time, wished away the past four months of her life. She would give anything to go back to that night four months ago and not have gone to that party. The wish to change what happened was an ache deep inside. The pain came from knowing wishing was useless.

Vin's hand on her back was a light touch, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

"He said he's on the third floor," Morgan said.

Vin opened the front door for her and stayed by her side, matching her slow pace up the stairs. She was so tired. Putting one foot in front of the other felt like an insurmountable job. Vin's hand rubbed lightly against the small of her back. Morgan kept trudging up the steps.

They went past the second floor landing that had two doors opening off of it and made it to the third floor.

The wooden door to the right was closed, no sound coming from inside. But Sam was in there. That had Morgan knocking on the door.

There was the sound of a lock turning, then the door opened.

Ezra looked as relaxed as he had when they had watched the stolen car burn in a Wyoming parking lot.

"Welcome," he said congenially. He opened the door and swept his arm to gesture her in.

She stepped into the small apartment, immediately looking for Sam. She saw her, asleep on the couch.

She couldn't stop her feet from carrying her over to Sam.

"Is she ok?" she asked, looking over to Ezra. She had no idea what Sam was doing on Ezra's couch, but she supposed it was better than finding her in some guy's bed. Not that Morgan had much room for judgment. She glanced at Vin.

Vin was looking at Sam's sleeping form with a slight furrow of concern between his brows.

"Apparently she was not pleased with an interminable sentence of house arrest," Ezra said.

Morgan grimaced. She had no idea what Sam might have done, but she could imagine Chris' response to a serious infraction.

Sam stirred slightly.

"Have a seat," Ezra said. "Have you had breakfast yet? I was just about to pick something up."

Morgan made a dismissive gesture. Food was the last thing on her mind. Her constantly knotted stomach didn't allow for hunger.

Vin crossed over to Morgan. "You need anything?" he asked.

Morgan shook her head. She had Sam near her. That was more than she had realized she needed.

"I'll see you later. Might be workin' a little overtime today," he said.

Morgan tried to hold back her frown of concern. Vin looked tired. She had no idea how he could keep up with the hours he was working. But she also had no idea how much he paid in rent, or how much the car had cost. Guilt at her own naiveté further took any hint of an appetite.

"It's fine," Vin said, like he was reading the thoughts behind her frown. "Couple guys just quit and they're short handed." He glanced at Sam, then back at her. "Enjoy your day with your friend."

Morgan caught his hand as he turned away. She pulled him toward her and caught his lips with hers. She had no idea what he was getting out of their unconventional marriage. She definitely wasn't the reward. But she would do what she could to show him she appreciated him.

When she let him go, Vin looked down at her. "I'm supposed to go to work now?" he asked, a hint of humor lifting one side of his mouth.

Morgan didn't tell him work had to be better than trying to protect her from his roommates and help her figure out how to fix her fractured life.

The humor left Vin's face and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering near her. "Call if you need anything," he said, his eyes holding hers and letting her know how much he meant it.

Morgan gave him a single nod and stepped back.

Ezra opened the door for Vin. "I'll be back shortly. Help yourself to anything you or Sam need."

Morgan shrugged off the offer. She wasn't here to take advantage of Ezra. She didn't even know what Sam was here for. But she'd find out when Sam woke up. She moved Sam's feet over and took a seat on the other end of the couch—some sort of modern looking velvet covered thing. It didn't matter that Sam was sleeping. At least she was with someone she knew. Someone who knew her.

#

"Thanks," Vin said once Ezra had closed the apartment door behind them.

Ezra looked at him.

"For invitin' Morgan over," Vin clarified. "I don't think…things ain't…she's strugglin'," he finally landed on. He knew her well enough now to know that the wild look in her eye when he met her hadn't been reckless impulsivity. It had been desperation. But that was fading into something closer to hopelessness by the day and he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"Anyone who would commit grand theft auto, felony kidnapping, and matrimony all within a twelve hour period is always welcome," Ezra said.

"Her friend," Vin started, then corrected himself, "Sam—" He didn't know Sam well, only as Morgan's friend who didn't trust him, "She's all Morgan has now."

"I have a feeling the situation is mutual," Ezra said. Vin saw the flash of concern on the other guy's face.

"It's good they have each other," Vin said. Although, even as he said it, he wondered how great it was that two drowning girls were in the water together. But he knew how to swim. And, looking over at Ezra, he suspected the other guy did, too.

"I'll keep you apprised of anything that arises," Ezra said.

"Thanks." It was a relief to know Morgan wouldn't be holed up in their room, or in the same house as his housemates, the entire day. 'Thanks' didn't begin to cover how much he owed Ezra for this.

Ezra shrugged off the thanks and started down the stairs. "I'm not liable for any vehicles that go missing or anything that ends up in flames."

Vin grinned. "I hope that was a one time thing."

Ezra gave him a look. "I have my doubts."

#

Chris paced the length of his kitchen. It wasn't long enough to burn off the frustration driving him, so he kept going out the door onto the deck before he paced back, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone.

"If I knew where she was, I wouldn't be calling the school, would I?" he demanded.

"Sir," came the prim high school secretary's voice. "If you can't keep track of your daughter, that's not my fault."

"Sister," Chris corrected her automatically. He was only twelve years older than Sam, but lately she had him feeling old enough to be her great grandpa. "And the school hasn't done such a great job of keeping track of her, either. You people let her walk around with a bottle of whiskey in her bag," he snapped.

"Please watch your tone," she snapped right back. "Sam Larabee is a delinquent and that's not the fault of—"

She was cut off and Chris could hear a muffled voice. The line went silent, then switched over to music. Chris recognized it as the school fight song. Right now, he was feeling like anything but cheering for the school.

"Mr. Larabee?"

Chris tempered his tone. This didn't sound like that ornery secretary. "Who's this."

"This is Mary Travis."

The principal's voice settled through his anger. The background noise was gone and he could picture her in her bright, sunny office.

"Sam didn't show up for school today," she said gently. "I'm sorry about our secretary. She isn't aware of what some of our students are going through."

"You know what Sam's going through?" Chris latched onto those words.

"No. I don't think she's shared much with anyone," Mary said. "Did she give any hint before school this morning that something was wrong?"

"She wasn't here this morning," Chris had to admit through gritted teeth. She had taken off some time during the night and he had no idea when. It wasn't like they had talked since he had picked her up from school last week with the bottle of whiskey in her bag.

"Did you call the police?" Mary asked.

"I am the police," Chris said. "No one at the precinct saw her last night or this morning."

"Why don't you come to the school?" Mary said. "We can go through her locker, ask some of the other kids here and see if we get any idea of where she is."

Chris didn't expect to find some secret address scribbled in Sam's locker, but Mary had a way of making things with Sam seem manageable, even when Chris knew they were anything but.

"You have time for that?" he asked before he agreed. He wasn't about to mess up the woman's entire day just because his sister had decided to go off the rails.

"Making sure Sam is ok is a priority," Mary answered.

Chris hesitated. But maybe some kid at school would know something. "I'll be there in a half hour," he said, well aware he would be breaking the speed limit to get there in that time frame.

He ended the call. Without Sam, the house was empty. But without knowing where Sam was, the ghosts in the house called out to him. Knowing he had failed Sam and that was like failing Sarah, because Sarah never would have let things get to this point. But Mary Travis had sounded so certain that they could sort things out, it silenced the ghosts.

Chris grabbed his jacket and keys, pocketing his phone. He locked the house, hoping Sam had her key with her, even as he knew there was no chance she was coming back home willingly.

#

Sam rolled over. And kept rolling, through air, onto a hard floor.

"Ooof," she grunted. She kicked at the blanket tangled around her legs. Suddenly they were free and she kicked at air.

She squinted an eye open and saw Morgan standing over her, holding the blanket.

"Morning," Morgan said.

Sam pushed herself up onto an elbow and looked around. Ezra's. She was at Ezra's. And…so was Morgan?

She looked back to Morgan. Morgan answered Sam's unasked question.

"Vin brought me over."

Sam scanned the apartment again.

"He's at work," Morgan supplied.

Sam shoved herself all the way up to sitting, then dragged herself back onto Ezra's couch.

"Ezra?" she asked.

Morgan sank down onto the other end of the couch. "He was going to get breakfast or something."

Sam flopped back against the pillow behind her head. Morgan tossed the blanket she had rescued Sam from over Sam's legs.

Sam studied Morgan. Her hair was half in a braid down her back, no effort at curling or volume. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. The split lip Morgan had last time Sam had seen her had healed and Sam didn't see any new cuts or bruises. But nothing about Morgan reassured Sam.

"So, you and Ezra?" Morgan said. She turned dull eyes toward Sam. Sam waited for the glint of a challenge, daring Sam to admit she was shacking up with Ezra, or questioning what Chris thought of Sam with Ezra. Morgan leaned her head back against the couch like it was too much effort to keep it up.

"There's no me and Ezra," Sam said, her protest coming out too sharply. Morgan clearly heard it. "He's a drinking buddy. He's let me crash here a couple times."

"I bet Chris loves you having a drinking buddy," Morgan said drily. That little hint of sarcasm eased some of Sam's concern.

"About as much as Buck loves you having a husband."

Morgan stiffened, her lips thinning and she looked away. Sam huffed a sigh. She wasn't any good at saying the right thing. Especially when Morgan was already on edge.

She heaved herself off the couch and went to the small kitchen. She had seen which cabinet kept his liquor in.

She pulled a glass and a bottle of whiskey onto the counter, the slam echoing in the small studio apartment, drawing Morgan's attention.

"You want some?" Sam asked.

"I like to wait until after breakfast to drink," Morgan answered, clearly still annoyed at Sam's dig about her having a husband.

Sam poured a drink without a word and tossed it back. She'd have to pay Ezra back for the drink. She doubted the fake ID Morgan had got her would work in a well lit liquor store. But she could leave some cash on Ezra's counter before she went home. The thought of going home and facing Chris' disappointment, Morgan's absence, had her pouring another shot.

#