Page 40 of Decoding Morse

The thought pinged around in my head, making me want to crawl out of my skin and escape this nightmare.

“I’ll have Hound show you the footage when we get back.”

My children could be orphans right now.

Fear stabbed icy talons into my chest and closed around my heart. I needed to focus. I had a doctor’s appointment to get to and absolutely no time to lose my shit.

Morgan and Thia would have been in the house with me. They could have been?—

What-ifs became weights around my ankles, and I was barely treading water as it was. Pressure collapsed my lungs to the beat of my thundering heart. Darkness crowded the edges of vision as I fought for air.

Warm, powerful arms enveloped me like a life jacket. Morse. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, rubbing soothing hands over my back. “I got you. Breathe.”

It had been so long since I’d had a panic attack that I’d practically forgotten how to handle them. At Morse’s coaxing, I inhaled through my nose and slowly counted to four. I held it for four seconds, exhaled, and waited another four seconds before starting over. My lungs expanded, and the darkness receded.

When my breathing evened out, Morse eased back, studying me like I was a wild animal he’d just released from a trap. “You okay?”

I scoffed. “Hardly. I should cancel my appointment.”

“No. You’ve been limping. You need to see a doctor.”

I opened my mouth to ask how he would know since he’d been avoiding me, but there were surveillance notices in all the public places, including stairwells, and Morse had always been highly observant. It made sense he worked in the surveillance office.

“Did someone really break into my house?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice soft. “But you’re okay. Everyone you care about is safe. We’ve got this. I updated Link on the situation, and we’ve altered today’s plan accordingly. Havoc and Eagle are already on-site, and Tap and Hound will cover us from here. I won’t leave your side until we get back. But we need to get on the road now so we don’t miss your appointment. Put on the disguise, Amelia. Please.”

His eyes finally met mine, and the unwavering reassurance that stared back at me could have persuaded me to do almost anything. The bikers had a plan and simply needed me to do mypart, so I pulled the rain suit out of the bag and looked at him for an explanation.

“We’re taking the bikes,” he explained. “It’s not supposed to rain, but I’d like you to wear it all the same. I have something to go under the jacket, though, so put on the pants first.”

He retrieved a plain white vest from a locker as I tugged the rain pants over my jeans. When he slid it over my head, the weight surprised me. Gently lowering the front and back panels, he adjusted the size and zipped up the sides.

“Is this a bulletproof vest?” I asked. It was thinner than the ones cops wore and much heavier than it looked.

“Bulletproofis a bit of a stretch, but it will help to protect you.”

He helped me slide the rain jacket on over it. We removed the tags, and then I tackled the wig, fumbling with the placement until it felt centered.

“How do I look?” I asked.

He straightened the dirty blonde locks before nodding in approval. “Different, but still beautiful.”

Unsure what to do with the compliment, I accepted the black leather biker vest he handed me next. The club’s logo patch sat proudly in the center of the back, with “Property of” above and “Morse” below. My stomach did another stupid little flip.

“Um… why?” I looked at him in question.

His confident expression wavered for a split second before he wrestled it back under control, his posture almost as stiff as Jed’s. “That’s what it has to say. Anything else would look suspicious, considering no biker worth his salt would want his woman riding on the back of another man’s bike. We need the disguise to look authentic.”

“Right. Of course. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention.”

“Exactly.”

It was for the disguise. Nothing to get too excited about, stomach. Good thing, too, because no woman worth her pepper would want to own a vest that marked her as someone’s property. Talk about demeaning.

This undoubtedly shouldnotbe a turn-on.

Right?

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