Page 20 of Decoding Morse

Another question I hadn’t been prepared for. I didn’t want to tell her, but outright lying wasn’t an option. In the end, I settled on a partial truth.

“Surveillance.”

She scanned the room, eyes widening when she spotted the camera. Beside it, a sign warned that the area was being recorded. “Does the club need a lot of surveillance?”

“Some of my brothers struggle with PTSD and other demons. We help those we can, but some… they don’t have a strong enough reason to keep trying.”

She nodded, her eyes filling with sympathy. “Ted always warned his recruits that nobody came home unchanged.” She searched my gaze. “Is that what happened to you? Why you never reached out after you got out? Did you come back changed?”

The concern in her voice cracked open my chest. I couldn’t let her see what was in there. Time to end this.

“Ted was a wise man and an honest recruiter. Not many of them out there.” I stood, signaling an end to the conversation. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

She hesitated, confusion flickering across her features. Then, hurt flooded her eyes, and she didn’t disguise it. The sight almost made me sit my ass back down, but I held firm. At last, she got to her feet, wincing as she used the table to push herself upright.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“I… I’m fine.”

Before I could think better of it, I stepped into her personal space, studying the pain in her eyes. “What’s wrong, Amelia?”

She shrugged. “It’s just sciatica, I think.”

I held out my hand, offering assistance. She ignored it, instead grabbing my forearm. Electricity shot through me at the contact, practically scorching my skin. I bit back a curse and directed us toward the door, trying to stay focused so I didn’t do something stupid like pull her into my arms and sample those plump, sexy lips.

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“I have an appointment Tuesday morning. I should probably cancel it.”

There was a slight limp to her steps as she made her way to the door. Was that there before? How had I not noticed? Too goddamn busy checking her out to realize she was hurting. How fucking useless was I? That shit stopped now.

“No. Keep it.” Her steps had grown more stable, so I slid away and opened the door. “I’ll find a way to get you there safely.”

That was the second promise I’d made to her that I wasn’t sure I could keep. I needed to put my nose to the grindstone and find out why her life was in danger. But first, I had to get away from her.

Because I’d wanted nothing in my life more than I wanted to take care of Amelia right then. And that couldn’t happen.

8

Amelia

WHAT. THE. FUCK?

The question repeated in my head with every few steps as Morse marched me back to my room at a pace just shy of a jog. He’d started out slow, glancing back to study my gait, which had only encouraged me to grit my teeth and force myself to walk straighter. And walking seemed to help. Encouraged, I hastened my steps and tried to yell over the music.

“How long have you been with the bikers?”

He tapped his ear and shook his head, picking up his pace.

As we reached the stairs, I half-jogged to catch up and repeated the question.

After a pregnant pause, he answered, “I joined two weeks after my discharge.”

Surprised by his answer, I slowed my steps and formed a follow-up question, but when I glanced back up, Morse was halfway up the stairs and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to slap it against his ear. Was he… running?

When I finally caught up, he was standing in the hallway in front of the door we’d left Morgan and Thia in with his phone to his ear.

“Got it. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said before pocketing his phone and facing me. “Sorry. I had to take that. I’m needed back down in the surveillance room, but first, I need to collect your phones.”

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