Page 11 of Decoding Morse

We shouldn’t be joking around the table, we should be packing and getting them to safety before fucking assassins showed up. Frustration took over, and I crossed the handful of feet separating me from Amelia.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I locked our gazes and willed her to see my fear. “Someone put a hundred thousand dollar hit out on you. They want you dead enough to pay a shit-ton of money to make it happen. I’m sure you have questions, and I’ll be happy to answer them, but first, we need to get you to safety. Now. Then I’ll fill you in on all the details. I promise. You know you can trust me.”

“A hundred thousand dollar hit?” Thia asked. “On Amelia? No way.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “You’re serious?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Some emotion I couldn’t place flickered in Amelia’s eyes, but she didn’t say shit as her gaze continued to search mine.

“I’ve never lied to you. Ever.” Sure, I’d withheld truths to protect her, but that was different from outright lying.

Amelia knew me deep down. Despite the years of no contact, there was still a connection between us. It hadn’t faded withtime. In fact, now, it was stronger than ever. She had to feel it, too.

She bit her lip, and I released her shoulders, stepping back to give her some space.

Thia pushed to her feet and started pacing. “But where would we go? Should we call the cops? Can you show them this hit on the dark web? Will they protect Amelia?”

“Possibly, but that’ll take time and depend on the department’s resources. I have a place that’s fully monitored and protected. You guys can stay there until we get this shit sorted.”

Amelia frowned. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

Thia snorted. “If your life really is in danger, putting someone out should be the least of your concerns.”

The ‘if’ annoyed me, but I kept that to myself. “I agree. But your presence won’t be an inconvenience. I’m taking you to a place dedicated to protecting those in need.”

This time, when Amelia’s gaze crashed into mine, I saw something else. Something vulnerable. “This is crazy.”

I nodded. “It absolutely is. I’m having difficulty believing it myself, but it’s true.”

“I… I trust you, Morse.”

Trying to hide my relief, I bobbed my head. “Thank you. I won’t let you down. Now, let’s get you guys packed.”

Thia swallowed. “What about Bailey? Can she come, too?”

“Yes.” I should probably call Link and verify that, but fuck it. There was no way he’d leave a woman in danger because of a dog. The prez liked dogs. At least, he liked Boots, the club’s rescue that behaved like a therapy companion. I hoped Boots wouldn’t eat the neurodivergent little mutt.

Morgan appeared in the doorway, and the look on her face told me she’d heard the whole conversation. “The toilet’s running again. We can’t leave until we fix it.”

5

Amelia

MY HEAD WAS spinning when Morgan and I climbed into the hybrid Toyota SUV we’d nicknamed Ravie. I fastened my seatbelt, took a deep breath, and turned to check on my daughter. She’d wanted to drive her own car, but I needed her beside me right now, so we’d left it parked in the driveway.

Perched on the passenger seat, focus fixed straight ahead, Morgan’s expression was unreadable, but that was nothing new. It was almost impossible to tell what this kid was thinking most days. Had she been literally anyone else, I would have reached across the console and grabbed her hand, comforting us both.

But Morgan wasn’t built that way.

Physical touch made her uncomfortable, and hand-holding—physical or emotional—was likely the last thing she needed at this stage. Still, as her mother, I needed to check in. I just had to be careful about how I did it so she wouldn’t feel coddled and push me away.

“How you doing with... everything?” I winced. What a ridiculous question.

Still, she surprised me when she replied, “Better than Bailey.”

We both turned to check on the anxious dog kenneled in the back of the car. We’d stuck her in my car since the kennel was too big to fit in Thia’s and had laid down the back seats so we could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t get crushed by the surrounding luggage. Thia and Morgan had wrestled Bailey into a doggie diaper disguised as a jean skirt. She would have looked cute in it if she wasn’t currently trembling in fear.

“How you holding up, Bailey?” I asked.

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