Chapter 20
Sam didn't care that she was going to be late for class. Ms. Travis would be at the doorway of Sam's first hour class, watching for her, and would no doubt be calling Chris if Sam was late. But Sam hadn't seen Morgan in over a week and she was going to camp out at Morgan's first period class until she knew for sure that Morgan wasn't coming to school. She needed to see Morgan for herself. She needed to know Morgan was ok. She had asked around and heard Morgan had showed up to class once in awhile. She hoped today would be one of those days.
She saw the familiar auburn hair when Morgan tossed it over her shoulder. Morgan's back was to Sam. She was talking to Casey, that new girl in Sam's history class. Whatever Casey was saying, a friendly smile on her face, it wasn't putting Morgan at ease. Sam could read Morgan's tells even from this distance. The way she scuffed one shoe against the floor in a silent show of annoyance. The fingers curled into a fist.
Casey's friendliness wavered with the lack of Morgan's reception. Her smile faded uncertainly and she took a step back.
Morgan turned and Sam started toward her, not sure if she wanted to throttle her friend or hug her.
"It's been three days since I left you a message," Sam said, striding down the hallway towards Morgan.
Morgan kept walking, making no sign that she heard Sam.
Sam got in front of her and that's when she saw Morgan's split lip.
"What happened?" Sam felt her muscles coil.
Morgan flicked her eyes towards Sam and looked away, continuing toward her classroom.
Sam turned abruptly, adjusting course to stay next to Morgan and match her pace. "What happened to your lip?" she demanded. A sick feeling grew heavy in her stomach. Morgan's lip had been cut like that after she had been attacked. "Morgan!" Sam hissed, grabbing Morgan's arm and pulling her towards her. "Did he do this to you?"
Morgan finally looked at Sam.
"Did Vin do this?" Sam made a conscious effort to let go of Morgan's arm rather than tightening her fingers around her bicep. "Did he hurt you?"
Morgan shook her head, but her eyes were shadowed and Sam knew Morgan wasn't going to tell her what actually happened. But it didn't matter. Sam knew. She knew with certainty that the guy Morgan had stuck herself to had hurt her and there was no way in hell Sam would ever let anyone hurt Morgan again.
"Where is he?" Sam demanded. "Is he here?"
"He's at home today," Morgan said dully. "He's not—"
Sam didn't need to hear anything else. She wasn't failing her friend again. She stormed out of school, through the parking lot to her car.
She had the vague thought that this would most likely be the last time she drove her car before Chris took it. But it didn't slow her down.
She jumped the curb on the way out of the parking lot.
The house looked just as unwelcoming as it had the first time she had seen it. But this time there was an SUV parked out front. An old Ford Bronco with primer over rust patches.
Sam slammed her car door shut, then slammed her way up to the porch and pounded on the door with a closed fist.
When it didn't open immediately, she pounded again. "Vin!" she yelled.
The door opened. Vin stood there, phone in hand.
"Sam?" he asked. "Morgan just called. She wanted me to pick her up from school. Is she—"
"Did she tell you I'm gonna kill you?" Sam grit out between clenched teeth.
Vin's brow furrowed, but he didn't say anything. Sam gave him a hard shove.
Vin frowned, but tried to edge around her. "I gotta go get Morgan."
Sam whirled around and got in front of him again, stopping him when he got off the porch. "You're not going near Morgan!"
Vin didn't fight back. But Sam saw the hardness edging into his eyes. "I don't know what you're thinkin', " Vin said. "But I ain't ever gonna do nothin' to—"
Sam cut him off again with another shove. She stalked closer to him when he took a step back. "Then why does she have a split lip? What did you do to her?" her voice rose until she was yelling, her throat raw with the emotion behind her words.
Vin glared at her. "That wasn't me," he said, quiet force in his statement. "I would never hurt her. Never."
Sam faltered at the vehemence in his words. "Then what happened?" she asked roughly.
Vin looked at her like he was debating whether she would believe anything he had to say. "She won't tell me," he finally said.
That sounded more like Morgan than any other answer he could have given, so Sam was inclined to believe him.
"What do you think happened?" It galled Sam to have to ask. She should know what was going on with Morgan. She and Morgan knew every detail of each other's lives. Not some random guy Morgan had decided to move in with. Marry. Whatever.
"I think I need to find somewhere else to live," Vin answered darkly.
Sam didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but Vin seemed to mean it. He was going to find a better place for Morgan.
Sam couldn't argue with that.
Vin's phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. "Morgan wants to get out of there," he said.
Sam took a step back. Back from Vin. Back from Morgan's life with Vin. "Go get her," Sam said. "I have somewhere I need to be anyway."
She could tell Vin didn't believe her lie, but he didn't call her on it. He started toward the Bronco, then stopped and turned around.
"I meant it," he said. His face was serious and Sam waited. "I would never hurt Morgan."
Sam was starting to believe him.
Vin got into the old SUV and turned the engine over. It came to life with a roar that told of a less than reliable muffler, but it kept running and Vin pulled away from the curb, heading in the direction of the high school a couple miles away.
Sam figured she might as well enjoy her last day of freedom before Chris took her car and locked her in the house. She got behind the wheel and headed in the opposite direction.
#
Ezra mumbled something that he hoped was a threat and pulled his pillow over his head.
The knock came again.
With a groan, Ezra kicked off his blankets and swung his feet to the floor. A glance at the clock let him know he had gotten a full four hours of sleep. His clothes were wrinkled. Hadn't he changed into pajamas? No, that's right, he had fallen face first on his bed and slept after five hours straight at the poker tables. After stashing his winnings in the safe above his fridge.
He headed toward the door. If it was Larabee or Wilmington, he was officially resigning as their CI. No amount of money was worth the unearthly early hours they kept.
He swung the door open.
Well, it was a Larabee standing there.
But the pretty one.
The agitated, pretty one.
Sam ran a hand through her hair, then stopped partway and dropped it to her side, like she realized that move would give away how upset she was.
She opened her mouth, but didn't say anything.
Ezra helped her out. "No school today?" he asked.
Her jaw tightened. She shook her head slightly.
"Would that be a cancellation of classes for the general student body, or just you?"
She didn't answer. Ezra wasn't sure she could. Her fingers rubbed against the leg of her jeans in frustration and her lips were bracketed with lines.
"Well then, why don't you come in and enjoy your school holiday in comfort." He stepped back. "I was just about to make breakfast."
"Liar," Sam finally spoke.
Ezra smiled. "Would you rather go fend for yourself at school?"
Sam slanted a look at him.
"That's what I thought."
Ezra went to the kitchen and pulled out a box with packets of instant oatmeal. He filled a tea kettle with water and set it on the gas stove.
"Wow. Luxury," Sam commented, looking at the box.
"It's that or shredded wheat," Ezra said.
She made a gagging noise, complete with a gesture to show what she thought of that option.
"Coffee?" Ezra asked, moving to his coffeemaker.
"Whiskey?" Sam countered.
Ezra raised an eyebrow. But he figured she wouldn't be here if her day was going well. He moved to the cabinet that held his liquor supply and pulled out a bottle, then a glass. He would wait for the coffee for himself.
Sam ignored the glass and took a long pull from the bottle.
Ezra tried to hide his concern. "Breakfast of champions," he said mildly.
Sam took another long drink and set the bottle down with a heavy thud without responding.
Ezra took in the bleak look in her eyes, the worried pinch between her brows.
"How is house arrest going?" Ezra asked.
Her eyes finally sparked slightly. "I keep thinking Chris will get sick of having me around so much and ease up."
"You're here," Ezra observed. "Does that mean he's eased up?"
"I'm here," Sam said darkly. "That means I'm never getting off house arrest."
"Well then," Ezra said, "to your last taste of freedom."
Sam made a move like she was going to toast him, but Ezra smoothly took the bottle and poured her a cup of coffee that was ready.
Sam didn't argue, but she didn't drink the coffee either.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, suddenly looking around the apartment. "I should go."
Ezra didn't mention that there was no way she should be driving after what had looked like the equivalent of four shots of whiskey. Instead he smiled benignly. "I had no plans for the day. Did you?"
Sam sighed heavily. Her sunstreaked hair fell over her shoulders when she leaned against his counter. "I thought I was going to check on Morgan. Make sure she's ok."
Ezra was usually able to read people without any doubt. And he had thought the guy Sam's friend was with seemed fairly harmless. Maybe even good for Morgan. "And she's not?" he asked. He wasn't supposed to be invested in this slapdash love story. He had been a more or less willing hostage with a front row seat. Nothing more. Just the way he wasn't supposed to have any interest in the younger sister of Chris Larabee, the man who wanted nothing more than to see Ezra behind bars or on his way out of Denver most days. But he couldn't stop himself from watching Sam closely.
"She hasn't been fine for awhile," Sam said under her breath.
It was the softening in her posture when she admitted the truth that had Ezra coming around to her side of the counter. The way she swallowed hard and bit down on the inside of her cheek. The way her head dropped slightly, her shoulders bowing forward.
Ezra didn't know what he was doing, reaching out to brush his palm against her cheek. And why he didn't back away when she leaned into his hand, closing her eyes like she had to savor any comfort she might get.
He didn't know what it was like to care about someone so deeply that their burden could physically weigh on you. And he didn't know how to comfort someone who did.
Sam took a long breath, then her emerald eyes blinked open. She looked at Ezra.
He had some idea of what he wanted to do.
He quickly took a step back. That was the last thing Sam Larabee needed from him.
"How do you feel about mini golf?" Ezra asked.
Sam's face wrinkled with confusion, but that was better than worry. "Mini golf?" she asked dubiously.
"Yes, mini golf," Ezra said. It was certainly safer—wiser—than what he wanted to do with her.
"You play mini golf?" Sam asked.
"I bet on mini golf," Ezra answered.
That piqued her interest. He saw the light come back to her eyes and her eyebrows lift slightly.
"What do I get when I win?" she asked.
Ezra went to get his keys and wallet. "No sense in discussing scenarios that will never happen, Miss Larabee," he said amiably. "It's far more prudent to discuss what I'll be collecting when I win."
#
Morgan nearly collapsed into the seat of Vin's newly acquired Bronco.
"You ok?" Vin asked.
Morgan couldn't get words past the tightness in her throat. She nodded with a jerky movement.
Vin pulled away from the curb and started putting distance between them and the high school.
Morgan leaned forward in her seat, clutching her head between her hands. Her hands trembled and she clutched at her hair, trying to bring them under control.
She shouldn't have gone to school. She shouldn't have faced Sam.
She sucked in a breath. Then another. Vin drove without saying a word.
They drove while Morgan fought for control. She didn't look up, but was grateful Vin wasn't taking her right back to the house. The house filled with men who put her on edge.
The SUV slowed, then turned. The rhythm of the road changed to uneven gravel.
Morgan lifted her head as Vin slowed some more and eased down a slow incline into a dirt lot at the edge of a lake.
She scanned the lot, her frown pulling at the cut on her lip.
Vin put the parking brake on and turned off the engine.
"We were here…" she said, her words trailing off as she looked at the lake, the log on the ground at the edge of the lot.
"The night you stole the car," Vin said without judgment. "The night we met," he added softly.
She had been driving, frantic and sure Chris and Buck—or some faction of the Denver PD—was going to run them down any minute when Vin had told her to turn down this road. She hadn't questioned that at the time, just relieved to have someone who knew where to go.
Vin opened his door and came around to her side, opened the heavy passenger door.
He held out his hand for Morgan. She gripped his hand and let him help her out of the vehicle. His warm palm anchored her clammy one.
Her arm brushed against his side as they went down to the shoreline. She looked at the tree and saw Sam and Ezra, a deck of cards between them, sitting on the log. Moonlight on the lake while she determined she would never go home again.
Now it was sparkles of sunlight dancing across the lake, but her promise stood. She hadn't gone home.
"I like it here," Vin said. "Makes everything back in town seem a lifetime away."
Vin didn't often open up about his thoughts on his life, or his past. Not that Morgan was one to judge anyone keeping things to themselves. But she kept quiet, waiting to see if Vin would say anything else.
"I come out here sometimes. When I need to breathe."
His chest moved as he took a breath now. Morgan thought of the pictures covering the walls of his room. The lakeshores, woods, mountains. The places Vin belonged. Anywhere but the rough inner city.
She found her breaths matching his. Slow steady breaths in, then out.
The sun was warm on her hair, the fresh water smell filled her nose, Vin's solid presence was steady next to her.
She could breathe.
#