Page 23 of Decoding Morse

I made a sound in my throat.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean. I’m damn proud of my curves, and you should be, too. But back to the problem at hand. Do the bikers have any idea who put the hit out? Please tell me they’re about to bust into some asshole’s mansion like a biker SWAT team.”

“Unfortunately, no. They’re having trouble tracing the hit, but they’re working on it and doing the best they can.” A shudder slid up my spine, and the emotion I’d held at bay all day suddenly burned my eyes and clogged my throat. “Thia, someone genuinely wants me dead.”

She stepped forward, and I lifted my palm, gesturing for her to stay back. If she hugged me right now, I’d fall to pieces, which wasn’t what this situation needed. I took a deep, calming breath and tried to organize my thoughts. “Cell phones can be traced, so….”

“You surrendered yours. Do they need to take mine?”

“They don’t think there’s a need since you’re not on my plan. Why? Do you want to give your phone up? I’d give the experience zero stars; would not recommend. It’s only been a few minutes, and I already have hives. How will I know… anything? Do you have any idea how many questions I ask mycell every day? What am I supposed to do? Carry around an encyclopedia set?”

“I have my phone.” She tugged it out of her pocket and showed it to me, which was admittedly reassuring. “Morgan has her iPad. We’ll be your internet.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“I know.” She flashed me a smile, but it melted away as quickly as it had appeared. “But for real, Morse….”

“I don’t know what to do.” Admitting defeat was strangely liberating.

Thia’s piercing gaze encouraged me to continue.

“Are we crazy for coming here?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” At least she was honest.

“Something keeps bugging me,” I admitted.

“I know. It’s bugging me, too. Time to serve up a nice hot cup of Morse Tea. Girl, spill. What the fuck is going on between the two of you?”

I hesitated because I didn’t know. But in the end, I detailed everything he said and did. Then we took a brief intermission to check on Morgan and grab the bottle of wine from Thia’s luggage that, of course, she’d packed.

Morgan was snoring, so we stayed in the room with her, taking our bottle of wine to the sofa when we couldn’t find any glasses. It wasn’t the first time we’d played pass-the-bottle, and likely wouldn’t be the last.

“So, here’s the thing,” I said, enjoying a gulp before handing her the bottle. “If Morse had pretended he couldn’t hear me in the hallway, I would have marched in here, packed you guys up, and gotten the hell out of here.”

She took a drink and handed me back the bottle. “Why?”

“Because dodging the questions of someone whose life depends on you is rude. Levi would never treat me like that. If that’s how Morse rolls, how can I trust him? Trust is a crazyresponse to this guy, anyway. I mean, it’s been seventeen years since we’ve spent any time together. What was I thinking?Hecould be an assassin.”

I paused to take a breath, and she guided the bottle to my mouth. I took a healthy drink.

“Good,” Thia said, praising me for drinking, if I wasn’t mistaken. “Now let’s look at that last statement. If Morse was an assassin, he would have killed you by now. He’s had plenty of opportunities. A more likely scenario is that there is no threat to your life.”

“Good point, but the evidence…. They had my weight, Thia. Besides, why would he go through all this work just to… what? Be too busy to so much as talk to me?”

I took a second drink, realized what I’d done, and glared at the bottle. “I’m in danger. I should be clear-headed right now. What if the bikers bust in?”

She pried the bottle from my fingers and took a swig. “I imagine we’d be at their mercy. Same as if we were stone-cold sober. There’s no need to face this mess without a drink.”

“That actually makes sense.”

“Of course it does. Come to me for all of life’s cheat codes.”

“Deal.” I blew out a breath and tried to force my shoulders away from my ears. “What could I have possibly done to make someone want to kill me?”

Her expression softened, and she passed me back the bottle. “I don’t know, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. The bikers will find out who’s after you and why. In the meantime, you need a distraction. I suggest Morse since there’s clearly something going on there.”

I did not snort wine from my nose, but only because I forced myself to swallow before scoffing. “Did you miss the way he just fled from me? He didn’t want to tell me what he’s been up to.”

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