Thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter, AngstyTales, LuvReading, and Guest. Reviews make me so, so happy!

Thanks, also, for your feedback, Guest! I 100% agree with you, Sam and Morgan have brothers who would do anything for them, and they're not alone. That line was a deliberate decisions, because it's Vin saying it. And all he knows of Buck and Chris is what he sees of Morgan's reaction toward them, so he doesn't know how loyal those guys actually are. Ezra agreeing is him just kind of going along with what he's seeing of Sam, not necessarily what is actually happening.

I also agree, Sam and Morgan are acting immature and irrational. Also a very deliberate choice. :) They're only 17 years old in this story and I wanted to stay true to that, not have them acting like mature adults all the time. But, even more than that, they've both been through trauma. One of the effects of trauma/PTSD is feeling like you're entirely alone, even if you have the greatest support system all rallying around you. I experienced that after trauma and wanted to include that in this story. So Morgan will absolutely be making choices that don't make sense because they're coming from places of trauma/depression/PTSD. I hope that makes sense and let me know if you have any other thoughts. Thank you so much for reading and for letting me know what you were thinking!

Chapter 24

Chris stared at the kid in front of him.

"Sam Larabee. You know her?"

The senior's face was pasty white, his eyes wide as he drew back in his chair. "I—I know who she is." His eyes darted over towards Mary Travis, calmly seated in a chair alongside Chris'.

"Look at me," Chris said, snapping his fingers in the kid's face. "I'm the one talking to you."

He heard Mary's soft inhale before she spoke. "Let's take a break, Mr. Larabee. Jeremy, you can go back to class. Let us know if you hear anything about Sam, ok?"

The kid barely managed a nod before leaping from the chair and scurrying out the door.

Chris rose from his chair and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. It did little to relax the tense muscles there.

"That's it?" he asked, turning back to the principal. "Four kids? Those are the only kids who might know where Sam is?"

Mary's eyes were gentle. Chris appreciated she didn't offer platitudes. And that she seemed just as concerned about Sam as he was. "Sam was a bit of a loner before Morgan moved here. And then it was just her and Morgan together. She didn't have a large group of friends."

Chris knew that. After Sarah and Adam had died, Sam had all but retreated into herself. Not that Chris had been much better. He had been so absorbed by his own grief, he hadn't even seen what was happening to Sam until she was nearly destroyed by the loss. A couple expensive therapists and one barely used prescription for Xanax later and Sam was functioning again. More or less.

A knock sounded on the office door.

Mary rose with another concerned look at Chris and opened the door.

"Hi, Ms. Travis. You, uh, you wanted to see me?"

"JD," Mary said. "Come on in." She held the door wider.

Chris studied the kid. He needed a haircut. He wasn't scrawny, but didn't exactly look like he was going to be star of the football team, either.

The kid looked at Chris, then took the chair that Mary motioned him to. Chris stayed standing, looking down at the kid.

"You know who Sam—?"

"Mr. Larabee," Mary said softly, cutting him off. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Chris sat and before he could ask the kid what he knew about Sam, Mary spoke.

"Thanks for coming down to the office, JD. This is Sam Larabee's brother, Chris."

JD looked over at Chris and gave him a nod. Chris appreciated that, as nervous as the kid looked at being in the principal's office, he didn't look as jumpy as the last couple of kids they questioned had been.

"Sam's missing," Mary said. "Do you have any idea where she might be?"

Chris wished she would stand, exert her authority over the kid. This was no way to run an interrogation.

"She's missing?" This was the first of the kids to sound alarmed by the news. Chris looked at him more closely. "Have you asked Morgan? She always knows what's goin' on with Sam."

If they were giving out points for stating the obvious, Chris would award this kid the prize. He opened his mouth to tell the kid to stop wasting their time, but Mary spoke again.

"Morgan isn't available right now. Have you heard anything about Sam?"

While every other kid had immediately denied knowing anything, this guy furrowed his brow like he was actually thinking about it.

"I think she has some friend she's crashed with a few times," he said.

Chris straightened in his seat. "Who?" he demanded.

This time JD shook his head. "I don't know. Some guy…" His eyes went wide, his cheeks flushed and he looked at Chris.

Chris grit his molars together. This kid was helping, he reminded himself. It wasn't JD's fault that Sam had some guy in her life.

"Does he go to school here?" Mary asked, her own brow furrowing.

JD shook his head. "I think he's older. That's—that's all I know," he said, darting a nervous look towards Chris.

It wasn't anything Chris hadn't already found out from Sam herself. But now he knew it wasn't some guy from the school she was with. They were wasting their time here.

"Thanks for your help, JD," Mary said. "Let me know if you think of anything else, or hear something."

"Yes, ma'am," JD nodded. He darted another look towards Chris and quickly made his escape from the office.

An older guy. That didn't exactly narrow things down. Chris' phone buzzed and he grabbed it, still foolishly hoping he would see Sam's number on caller ID. Instead he saw Buck's.

"Buck?" he answered. "You heard anything?"

He could picture the frown on Buck's face. "Nothing, Chris. But we have another problem."

Of course they did. "Morgan?" he asked He didn't want to think what kind of trouble Morgan and that kid she was shacking up with could find together.

"No," Buck said. Chris could hear the relief at the idea that Morgan wasn't the cause of whatever issue had cropped up. "It's those guys we've been tracking. The ones bringing heroin into the city."

Chris glanced over at Mary. He lowered his voice. "What is it?"

"I know the timing ain't great, Buddy. Not with Sam off somewhere."

"Sam knows how to take care of herself," Chris said. It grated on him to admit it. But it was true. He wanted nothing more than to find Sam and drag her home where she belonged, but he also had to admit—against everything that fought it in him—that he wasn't going to find her. Not now. Not with any of the nonexistent leads he'd got from the kids at her school. "What's going on?"

"We got a tip that they're funneling the drugs through a gambling club. And you know who knows all the gambling dens in this city."

Chris heaved a sigh. He didn't like the idea of pausing his hunt for Sam in exchange for time with a wayward informant.

His jaw worked and he forced out the name.

"Ezra."

#

Ezra balanced the to go containers in his arms as he opened the door to his apartment.

The scent of alcohol hit him first. He looked until he saw Sam, slumped on his couch, bottle in hand. He held back the frown and looked until he saw Morgan. Her auburn hair was a mess, but at least her hands were empty as she stood by the window, jaw set, staring at the street below. Her fingers tapped an agitated rhythm against her jeans.

Ezra set the containers on his counter, lifting a couple of the cups of coffee from the cardboard carrier. He offered one to Morgan. She took it with a distracted 'thanks'. He deftly took the bottle from Sam's hands and pressed the coffee into them instead.

Sam took it. It listed to the side and Ezra wrapped her hands more tightly around it.

"Have a drink," he said. Or five. Sobering her up wasn't something he had planned on having to do before ten am.

Sam looked like she didn't recognize what was in her hand if it was non-alcoholic.

Ezra moved to the kitchen. He debated finding some extra carbs for Sam or starting a pot of coffee to follow up the coffee shop drinks he had brought home. Deciding getting something in her stomach first was probably the best course of action, he brought over one of the Styrofoam containers and set it on the coffee table. He opened it and set utensils next to it. Sam looked dully at the food.

"I thought pancakes seemed like a safe bet," Ezra said, bringing another container to the low table and setting it there for Morgan.

Morgan moved to the couch next to Sam and sat. She slid the container towards herself.

Ezra didn't know Sam's friend, not outside of one night of grand theft auto, but he watched her as he got his own food.

Her eyes had the same restlessness he had noted the night they had met. But this time Sam was too out of it to temper her. Morgan cut her food, then pushed the pieces around in the takeout container. After a few minutes of that, she pushed the entire container aside and stood again.

Ezra continued to eat. Sam didn't. Morgan paced.

He kept an eye on both of them.

A light buzzing came from the counter. Neither one of the girls reacted. Ezra stood and crossed the small space. He picked up his phone.

"Yes?"

"Mornin' Ezra," came Buck Wilmington's voice.

Ezra looked over at the man's sister, looking like she was debating going out the window she was standing in front of. He gave Sam another look then stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Good morning, Officer Wilmington."

"We need to talk to you," Buck said. "I'm on my way to get Larabee then we'll be over."

"That's not necessary," Ezra cut in almost before Buck finished.

"What do you mean not necessary?" Buck asked. "Standish, you don't even know what I'm going to ask. There's a break in a case me and Chris have been working for months. You ain't squirming your way out of our deal right when we really need you."

"I only meant coming over here. That's not necessary. I haven't had time to clean. There was a poker night last night…anyway, I'll meet you somewhere else." He held his breath. He couldn't push too hard. That was the surest way to sound suspicious and get both of the cops on his doorstep. Which would mean both the cops would see their sisters in his apartment. And one of the aforementioned sisters would probably be passed out drunk by then. Ezra valued his life too much to welcome that scenario.

Buck made a sound that Ezra took to mean he didn't care about Ezra's messy apartment or poker night. "Meet us over at the café by the station. I'll let you know what we have and you can fill in the blanks."

"My pleasure," Ezra said. "I'll need my usual fee up front."

"You'll get triple your usual fee after your info proves good and we get some arrests."

That was a trade off Ezra was willing to take. "I'll be there shortly."

He ended the call. He opened the door to find nothing had changed. Sam was half passed out on the couch, Morgan was just as on edge.

He hesitated. Looked over the situation again. Sam was more or less an anchor. Morgan wouldn't be able to drag her into any trouble if she couldn't get her off the couch.

Ezra went to a notepad on the counter in the kitchen.

"I have to run an errand. If you need anything…" He wasn't exactly sure what would draw Morgan into calling him. But leaving without giving her his number felt like leaving the baby-sitter without instructions. So he scribbled his cell number across the paper and set the pad in the center of the kitchen peninsula. "Hopefully it won't take long."

Morgan gave him a short nod.

"There are DVDs, books…" he gestured toward the bookshelf. "Help yourself to anything," he said. Except matches, he added silently, picturing the flaming car they had walked away from in Wyoming. And probably best if they steered clear of more liquor.

Unsure of what else he could say, he gave Morgan a formal nod and started to take his leave.

"Ezra," she said.

He stopped. Her brow furrowed slightly, her lips thinned. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," he said.

He really hoped hosting her and Sam would be his pleasure, and not something he would soon be regretting. Or, at the very minimum, his apartment would still be standing when he got back, and both girls would be safely tucked inside.

#

Morgan clenched her fists. The movie was one she had seen before. Back in Vegas, when her mom was alive.

Before she had moved to Denver to live with Buck.

Before she had been…attacked.

Before she had ended up pregnant.

Before she had met Vin and stole a car.

Before she had married Vin.

Before her life had stopped making sense.

She shoved herself off the couch, shifting her shoulders as she paced across the small quarters. She couldn't breathe. She needed air.

"What?" Sam asked.

It was the first she had spoken since telling Morgan she didn't care what movie she put in three movies ago. The sun was starting to set, the shadows coming across the apartment, closing it in even more around Morgan.

"Do you remember when you and Chris came down with Buck to visit me and my mom in Vegas?" Morgan asked.

Sam frowned, but nodded. She didn't mention it was the last time they had all been together before Morgan and Buck's mom died. But Morgan knew that's where Sam's thoughts were, she could read it on her face. It followed after Morgan's own thoughts. The last time things had been easy.

"Remember the rodeo we went to?" Sam asked.

"I remember the cowboys," Morgan countered.

Sam's lips twitched slightly. "They probably remember you. Or at least Buck's threats when he found them ogling his underage sister."

"It wasn't their fault. I told them I was eighteen."

Sam snorted. She rested her head against the back of the couch. "That one guy who was sitting a couple rows behind us…the one with the…"

"The abs?" Morgan supplied.

"The scruffy beard," Sam finished, her lips twitching again. "Remember he tried to impress you, signing up for that crazy bullfighting game?"

Morgan rolled her eyes. "That stupid chance to show off? Four guys sitting at a card table in the arena and they let a bull loose."

"Cowboy poker," Sam said. "I'm pretty sure Buck was hoping your guy with the abs would get gored."

Something close to a laugh loosened the knot in her throat. Four guys sitting around a flimsy table in folding chairs and the last one to leave his seat, while an agitated bull charged them, won.

Everything had been so easy. Laughing with Buck and Chris, Sam giving them both a hard time and then going out for ice cream after. She wanted that again. And it was impossible. There was no way to go back.

"Chris' bull is meaner than that one they trotted out at that rodeo," Morgan said. Everything in her life now felt mean. Every memory that threatened.

"That's why he keeps it fenced away from where it can get to people," Sam said. She reached forward for the new beer she had opened.

"Let's do it," Morgan said suddenly.

"Do what?" Sam tipped the bottle up and took a long drink.

"Cowboy poker." She shifted her shoulders again, against the weight that insisted on pressing down on them, weighing her down for months. If she could just shove off that never-relenting weight, maybe she could breathe. Just draw one damn breath.

Sam didn't lift her head from where it rested against the back of the couch, but she raised an eyebrow.

"I can face that bull," Morgan said. Her teeth grit together. She hadn't fought off that guy at the party. Had avoided him at school every day since. Had avoided school altogether half the time. But she could face that bull. And if she lost…then maybe she wouldn't have to face anything anymore.

"Where are your keys?" she asked. She went to the counter where Sam's phone was and looked for keys.

She found the keys and turned to get her coat. Sam was levering herself off the couch, taking uneven steps toward Morgan.

"I can drive," Sam said.

"You're kidding, right?" Morgan said. She kept the keys in her hand. She could care less if it was a bull or a car accident that she found tonight, but she wasn't about to let Sam hurt someone else. She couldn't believe Sam was even considering getting behind the wheel when she was about two beers and a shot of whiskey past sober. Not after losing Sarah and Adam to a drunk driver. She looked more closely at Sam. She wasn't just blowing off steam with her drinking today. But Morgan didn't have it in her to ask Sam what was going on. Not when she was about to be crushed by her own demons.

Whatever. She'd keep Sam with her, make sure the bull was looking at her, and let Sam enjoy her drink. Sam deserved a break after dealing with Morgan for the past few months.

Sam didn't answer Morgan. She just grabbed another beer on her way through the small kitchen to the door.

Morgan's thoughts were on the ranch, Chris' bull, when she started the car. She just had to make it out of the city, then she could stop thinking about Buck, Vin, the pregnancy. Stop replaying what had happened. Feeling that guy's hands on her, holding her down—

She reached over and flipped on the radio.

Sam opened her bottle and tilted it back for another drink.

Stop thinking. Stop feeling.

#