Chapter 4
"What's your plan?"
Morgan had known the silence wouldn't last. Sam had finally stopped yelling at her and had been sitting in furious silence for the last ten minutes. When Morgan had glanced back in the rearview mirror, the hard set of Sam's jaw and the flinty anger in her eyes had reminded Morgan too much of Chris, so she had quickly looked forward and kept her eyes on the road.
The two men in the car hadn't said anything, the one in the backseat seeming to be content to lean back and take his unexpected roadtrip in stride, the one in her passenger seat looking at her with a concerned frown. Morgan ignored him along with Sam. Until Sam spoke up.
"Are you just going to keep driving forever?" Sam demanded.
"Well I'm not going back!" Morgan said hotly. She wrapped her hands more tightly around the steering wheel. She cut her eyes to the rearview mirror, saw Sam's green eyes narrow with concern. She didn't want Sam's worry, so she threw Sam's concern right back at her. "Do you want to go back and face the wrath of Buck and Chris? Get grounded forever? Locked in the dungeon with the key thrown away into the abyss?" her voice rose into a mix of panic and anger.
Sam's lips twisted wryly. "I don't think there will be a dungeon involved. And where is this abyss they're going to throw a key into?"
Morgan noticed Sam didn't actually argue with her assertation.
"Who are Buck and Chris?" the guy in the passenger seat finally spoke.
"How do you two know Officers Larabee and Wilmington?" the backseat passenger asked, his words a lazy southern drawl.
"They're our brothers," Morgan grumbled. She glanced at the road behind them again, sure it was only a matter of time before the flashing lights of their squad car were closing in on them.
"Your brothers," the back seat guy repeated. "Well that's just wonderful," he murmured.
Morgan looked at him before turning her attention back to the unfamiliar highway she was driving on.
"You know them?" Sam asked suspiciously, turning her attention from Morgan to him.
"I do. Did," he said regretfully. "I…worked for them in a capacity, but I don't foresee that continuing after this." He frowned. "I suppose I should have known it was too good to last," he said under his breath.
"You worked for them?" Sam asked suspiciously. "How?"
"I was a resource of information and local knowledge," he answered.
Sam pursed her lips. "You were a snitch?"
The guy looked affronted. "Confidential informant," he said. "Ezra Standish," he held out a hand towards Sam. She looked down at it, but didn't shake it.
"You're Ezra?" Morgan said.
"You're the lying, cheating, gambling snake in the grass?" Sam said evenly.
Ezra lifted a brow in amusement, and Morgan instantly liked him for not taking offense to Sam's blunt critique.
"I take it your brother is Officer Larabee," he said. "I will admit he's not my biggest fan." He shifted in his seat slightly to face Sam more fully. "And I don't cheat."
Morgan waited, but he didn't add any denial to Sam's other accusations.
Sam was studying him and he didn't flinch.
"So how about you?" Morgan asked the guy next to her. "Who are you?"
"Yes," Ezra said. "Since we are all Miss Wilmington's hostages, it seems only right to make introductions."
"You're not my hostages!" Morgan snapped.
"We're in the vehicle you're driving, and you're not letting anyone out," he said.
Morgan grit her teeth.
"Have we crossed any state lines yet?" he asked.
"If I decide to stop, you'll be the first one I kick out," Morgan replied.
He responded with a raised brow.
"I don't mind bein' along for the ride," the guy in the passenger seat said quietly, one side of his mouth kicking up in a smile.
"Do you have a name?" Morgan asked, the tension of the night making her words short.
He didn't look offended. "Vin Tanner," he said, settling more comfortably into his seat.
"And you don't have anywhere better to be right now?" Morgan demanded, his easy attitude unnerving her when she had been driving for miles now, with her heart feeling like it would thud out of her chest.
"Nope," he said. Then quietly, "You doin' ok?"
"I'm fine," Morgan said. She wished her voice wouldn't crack and make her sound weak.
"Morgan," Sam insisted. "Just pull over! Let's figure this out, ok?"
Morgan shook her head, feeling her jaw clench. She wasn't stopping. If she stopped, she'd have to think, and if she thought, she'd see Buck's look of alarm, see her mom in the hospital bed, remember moving into Buck's and trying to muffle her sobs in her pillow every night…
She had made it two years without stopping. She wasn't stopping now. She would keep moving so she didn't have to feel anything.
Headlights came over the rise in the distance behind them and Morgan pushed her foot down harder on the accelerator without meaning too. Her feet were still bare, having ditched her heels back at the club before jumping up onto the pool table.
"Don't panic," the guy—Vin—said. "Turn up here, past that old half a barn that's fallin' down."
Morgan didn't question him, just took the turn onto another narrow highway. They had left even the outskirts of Denver miles ago and were in unfamiliar territory, heading southwest of the city.
"Turn here," Vin said.
His calm instructions eased some of the pounding in her chest.
"Slow down," he said, and Morgan found herself listening. "Take that left up there."
Morgan did, slowing more as the car fishtailed slightly when she turned sharply onto the dirt road. She kept checking her mirrors, waiting for the bright lights, but they were surrounded by dark.
She stayed on the road until it narrowed farther and sloped down to end in a small gravel lot beside a lake.
She stopped the car because she had run out of road. Without the hum of the road beneath the tires, it was silent in the car.
"This'll give anyone followin' you time to pass, then you can get back on the road," Vin said.
"I need to stretch my legs," Ezra said. "Is that permitted?"
Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not my hostage," she said again.
He shrugged. "This isn't my first time as a hostage, I find it goes more smoothly if I know the rules upfront."
And with that concerning snippet of information, he opened the door and got out.
Sam gave Morgan a hard look before opening her door and getting out, walking down to the edge of the water.
Morgan still had her hands wrapped around the wheel, gripping it for all she was worth. If she let go, she might lose her desperate grip on control.
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She couldn't believe this. She was going to have to face Chris eventually, no matter what Morgan seemed to be thinking. It wasn't like they could avoid their brothers forever, and when Sam faced Chris, she knew what she would see.
Disappointment.
She stalked down to the water's edge and sucked in a long breath of the cool night air.
"Is this how most of your nights end up? Grand theft auto and being held hostage by your friend?"
Sam shoved down the pain that threatened at the thought of Chris' displeasure. She couldn't stop the pain, but she could make sure no one saw it. She turned around and glared at the guy.
"She's not holding anyone hostage," Sam defended her friend vehemently. "You're free to walk away any time."
Ezra moved over to a fallen log and made himself comfortable, using it as a seat. "It would be a long walk."
She shot him a look and he didn't flinch. She moved closer to the edge of the lake, let the toes of her boots brush against the edge of the water. The moon was out, reflecting off the water, no breeze to ripple the image. She wished she could feel as peaceful as the image stretching out in front of her.
"This is yours," Ezra said.
Sam turned back from the water's edge and looked at what he held. In the dim light, it looked like a wallet. Ezra opened it and Sam could see it was full of money.
Ezra pulled the bills out and counted them off, giving them to Sam.
"There's only four thousand there." Ezra frowned, pulling out the driver's license in the wallet. "Ray Flemings. He even sounds like a cheat."
Sam eyed the money warily.
"Ray Flemings was our opponent at the pool table. It doesn't look like he was carrying enough cash for the level our game escalated to."
"How did you get that?" Sam asked.
Ezra stuck the wallet back in his pocket. "It's easy enough to lighten someone's pockets when there is a full scale brawl to keep them distracted."
"So you're a pickpocket, too?" Sam asked.
"I'm someone who doesn't allow a debt to go unpaid," Ezra said.
Sam looked down at the cash in her hand again. She looked back at Ezra and he held her gaze without flinching. She thought she saw a flash of challenge in his eyes, daring her to turn down the money.
"Thanks," Sam said, pocketing the large number of bills.
She looked back up toward the car and saw Morgan shaking her head and saying something to Vin. They weren't going back to Denver. At least not tonight, not with the way Morgan's jaw was set.
Heaving out a sigh, Sam dropped down onto the log next to Ezra, shifting so she wasn't too close.
Ezra pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. He held them up in silent question.
"Well we're not going anywhere until Morgan's good and ready," Sam said. She stopped herself before she said more. Where she and Morgan stood wasn't anyone's business but theirs.
"Blackjack?" Ezra said, naming an easy enough card game.
Sam nodded. "Deal me in," she said, resigned to waiting Morgan out.
#
Vin studied the girl behind the wheel. She was hurtin' something awful, that was plain to see. And terrified of going home. He had been in a number of homes like that and understood.
"This brother of yours, he hurt you?" Vin asked. He knew how ugly the world was, what people did to people who were weaker than them. He wished she didn't have to know that.
"What?" she asked, spinning in her seat to look at him. "No! No, nothing like—Buck's a good guy."
Vin felt some relief at that. But he had also known plenty of people, kids, who swore they weren't being hurt by the person that was supposed to take care of them, and then ended up in the foster system with him.
"He's a good guy, but you don't wanna go home?" Vin asked, doubting her defense of her brother.
Morgan narrowed her amber colored eyes at him. When she looked right at him, it was hard to think of anything but her. "What about you?" she demanded. "Is there going to be someone waiting up for you at home?"
"No," Vin said quietly.
Morgan eyed him and he looked out at the lake in front of them.
He could almost feel the tension vibrating off her once they were silent in the car again.
Her fingers started tapping nervously, then building to a near frantic pace.
"We need to keep moving," she said to herself. Then she opened the door and stepped out of the still running car.
"Sam!" she called. "Let's go!"
Sam looked up from her card game with a resigned grimace. "Where?"
"Wyoming," Morgan said and Vin got the feeling she had just pulled the destination out of thin air.
"Morgan," Sam said, but Morgan cut her off, hurrying back to the car in her still bare feet.
"Let's go," Morgan repeated and Vin worried at the desperation in her voice. He worried about what waited for her at home if she was this desperate to avoid her. He started to think he'd like to meet up with this brother of hers. Show him what a fight was like with someone his own size.
Sam looked like she had accepted Morgan's plan whether she liked it or not and went toward the car, stopping in front of Morgan before either one of them got in.
"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked directly. "We can just lay low here for another hour, give Buck and Chris time to cool down."
"I'm not going back," Morgan insisted.
"Then I've got your back," Sam said. She set her jaw to match Morgan's.
Vin could see the bond between the two girls. He wondered what it was like to have someone in your life like that. Someone you could trust with your life. Someone you could call a friend.
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