by Marie Wathen
“Walker,” Jack growls, right on my heels. “Walker…Morgan, slow down, dammit!”
“I will,” I remark. It’s the truth. When my eyes land on the most beautiful face that I’ve ever seen, I’ll slow down. I want to absorb every detail of her, slowly. Taking in her clear, seductive eyes, lusting over her deep pink bow-shaped mouth, and longing to let my fingers tangle into her soft, beautiful hair will be done at a snail’s pace when I am finally reunited with Waverly’s exquisiteness. My hand lands hard against the thick doorknob and I twist it before thrusting open the door. Immediately, I spot the pricey rental car and notice Tac already sitting behind the wheel, waiting. Jack beats me to the car and stops me from opening the door by blocking it obstinately.
“Move,” I command, barely suppressing the hostility laden heartily in my tone.
“I’m riding in the back with her, Morgan,” His jaded look demands me to defy his direct request. “Get in the front and try not to freak her out.”
I roll my neck, dust my hands over the lapels of my suit and then stroll casually to the front passenger seat. With my hand poised over the door-handle I notice the trembling has increased drastically, so I squeeze into a painful fist before releasing it and pulling open the door. My nerves have jumped to an unhealthy level and I swear to Christ that it feels as though my heart could be thumping louder than the jet-level beats that Beginning Monday bring to the club on set night. Fuck, get control before you freak her out.
Waverly has never seen me less than cool or indifferent. After what all she’s been through, I can’t dump my shit on her right now. I settle into my seat and, without glancing at him, I nod to Tac to get us out of here. The soft whimpering sounds I hear coming from the backseat stab at my heart and I can feel my reserve cracking. If her brother wasn’t holding her in his arms this very moment, I would do every damn thing in my power to erase those dreaded days from her memory. Kissing her into oblivion would be only the start. Making love to her for as long as she wants or as many times as she needs would be my sole mission, and I would relish in bringing her to climax repetitively, willingly forgoing my own release until she is completely void of cognitive thought. I swallow hard thinking about being inside her and then realize I’m being a fucking douchebag with these thoughts. She was just bought from a brothel. The last thing she’ll want is to see me. Fuck.
“Shh, it’ll be all right, sweetheart,” Jack murmurs softly in the backseat to his sister. I’ve never heard him use that tone or nickname on Waverly before, but he’s also never had her ripped from his life by lowlife scumbags and not knowing for weeks on end if she was still alive either. Her whimpers become soft and muffled sobs. My heart clenches fiercely with each moan and sniffle. God, she’s fucking breaking my heart. Anxiously, I run a hand through my hair and put the other on my leg that won’t quit fucking bouncing like I have a goddamn nervous twitch.
“We’ll be at the airfield in ten minutes,” Tac advises, and I offer him another ambiguous nod. I don’t even know for certain that I can face her once we are in the air, thousands of miles away from this godforsaken place, but I know I’ll feel better about having the girls…Oh shit!
“Anna?” I whisper across the console to Tac, hoping not to upset Waverly further.
Clearing his throat nervously, Tac replies, “We’ll find her.” He bobs his head several times as if the movement is a reassuring gesture as well as solid confirmation.
Releasing a heavy breath, I say, “Okay, good. It’s fucked up that we couldn’t get her tonight, too.”
“Yeah,” Tac mumbles softly, glancing up in the rear view mirror.
Arriving at the airfield, Jack rushes aboard with Waverly, carrying her to the back bedroom and locking the door. My anxiety begins to lessen having her with us, so I settle into one of the front seats. Tac approaches me tentatively, looking like he wants to say something, but remains quiet through takeoff. Once in the air, he finds his voice easily.
“I think I made a mistake,” Tac offers. I turn toward him, confused about where the mistake in tonight’s plan lies.
“Mistake about what?”
“Morgan, how deep was your relationship with Waverly before?” he asks, watching me closely with a heavy amount of concern. My eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door where I really wish I was at the moment instead of sitting out here having a conversation that I do not want to be part of. I have to force my attention back on him.
“We were close,” I offer vaguely, not really wanting to discuss my feelings for her with him.
“I get that, but did something happen between you before the abductions?”
“I have an idea,” I say, anger growing with his invasive line of questioning. “Why don’t we cut to the chase? You have something specific that you want to say to me, so let’s have it.”
He leans forward, pressing his elbows into his upper thighs and says, “All right. I think perhaps you’re a little overwhelmed with what’s happened recently. The shooting, the abductions and being dragged into this covert world, may be contributors in your psychotic break. When we return back to the island, you should consider moving back to the mansion and talking with a professional.”
If I wasn’t so pissed off at his accusations, I’d laugh at this bullshit. Instead, I object. “I’m not overwhelmed and I sure as hell am not going to go see a shrink. Where the hell is this shit coming from, Tac?”
“Okay,” he sighs, holding a hand up and leaning his back against the seat. “After your display back at Xavier’s we are lucky that things didn’t go badly for us. Going in like that was dangerous, and if I had known the depths of your feelings, I wouldn’t have allowed you to participate.”
“Let’s not forget that it was my connection and money that bought our way in,” I remind him.
“I didn’t need either to get the job done, Morgan. I have skills and my own contacts that could have easily gotten me on the inside without your help. I went against my better judgment on this one and feel responsible for things going south.”
“We got Waverly back. I’m confused on where it went south.”
“That’s the thing, Morgan,” he says seriously. “The girl in the back with Jack isn’t Waverly.”
“Fuck off, Tac!” I shout, rising from my seat and crossing the span of the plane quickly. “Jack.” I knock roughly on the door, but he doesn’t respond. Thrusting my shoulder against it hard, I bust it open and spill into the room, barely remaining upright on my feet. “Let me see her,” I beg, attempting to look around him to confirm that the woman cowering behind him is in fact Waverly so I can prove Tac wrong about what he’s claiming.
“Morgan, you need to calm down and leave,” Jack demands, holding her close to his back, still obscuring my view. “When we get back to Willow you can talk with her.”
“No,” I counter, shaking my head and stepping a few feet closer. “Now! I need to see her now!” I hiss, doing my damnedest to control the rage building in my veins. “Waverly?” My voice breaks along with my strength and I whisper, “Please, let me see you.”
Jack growls when she whimpers and wraps a slender arm though his to pull him backward, away from me. Tac moves to step in my direct line of sight, facing me and placing a stiff hand on my shoulder. I can’t take my eyes off the small amount of flesh I can see gripping hold of Jack like a life raft swirling around in a wild sea storm.
“Calm down,” Tac orders before glancing over his shoulder to speak to Jack. “Let him see her.” Keeping his grasp tight on me, he repeats, “Let him see her, Jack.” Reluctantly, Jack mumbles a curse before turning around and placing his hands on her shoulders. He speaks softly and sweetly before gathering her into his arms and bringing her around to face me.
Seeing deep brown eyes replacing the light blue of Waverly’s, my stomach lurches painfully. The trembles I had earlier in my hand are nothing compared to the full-blown convulsions shifting through my body now realizing this woman looks nothing like Waverly. Trying to speak, I gasp t
wice before my voice comes out almost demonically, “What the fuck is going on? Where is Waverly?”
“Morgan, I tried to explain to you back inside the mansion. Waverly wasn’t there and she isn’t who we left with. Your mind was playing tricks on you, making you think that you were seeing her instead of the other women,” Tac explains. “You have got to get yourself under control before we land.”
I can feel all eyes on me, but I can’t stop staring at her cowering behind Jack. She isn’t Waverly. I don’t know what the hell has happened, or if they’re just fucking with me, but I can’t let them think I’ve completely crossed over to Insanityville, where the people who live there ride pink elephants and smoke bits of clouds that they catch with teacups. I can’t be that crazy. Can I?
“She wasn’t there?” My voice is a trembling whisper. “She never was there?”
“No,” Tac confirms, “At least not from what we saw tonight.” He sighs, releases his hold on me and steps away, putting a little room between us. “Morgan, I can’t keep this from Rhys and Sam.” Breaking my severe gaze on the freaked-out young woman, I lift my eyes sluggishly to him and nod. Tac is right; clearly I’m more upset and affected by Waverly’s abduction than I could have guessed before our trip to the Keys.
“Okay,” I whisper dejectedly. “I’m sorry,” My apology is directed to the girl, but she still won’t acknowledge me and is refusing to even look at me now. “Okay,” I repeat to myself, turning around and leaving them to consider my stability while I sulk back over to my chair. I close my eyes, allowing Tac’s words to wash over me and pray that my mind isn’t completely lost, but the sadness sinking into my chest is probably going to derail my trip back to ‘Balanced Land.’ Only Waverly will make me whole again. It’s a hunger stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced before. More than all the random women I’ve fucked, more than becoming the WC heir, and more than needing anyone’s approval, I just need her back. Now!
Chapter Fifteen
Morgan
Arriving back at Willow after the wasted trip to the Keys, I find solace in a bottle of Johnny Walker and then sleep most of the day away. The nagging ringing of my cell draws me from a dreamless state. When I clear most of the sleep from my eyes, I note from Sam’s text message that I am being summoned to Rhys’ office downstairs in an hour for a debriefing. Fucking cops! Clambering out of bed, I somehow manage to stay upright through a long shower before deciding to skip off to town for food first. Noticing only Sam’s bike parked in the front circular driveway, I don’t feel too guilty about bailing.
Sitting alone at Tackle Q’s, I wash down the Kobe beef burger with my second pint and then pay my tab, feeling more human since waking up this afternoon. Walking out to my car, I replay the disastrous events of the night before and feel a piercing pain in the left side of my chest. I don’t know what the hell came over me, or why I was convinced that Waverly was there, but after one look at the woman Jack held behind him protectively, I realized that we hadn’t succeeded in our plan of rescuing Anna and Waverly from possibly being sold as sex slaves, but at least one girl was saved. Jack is willingly taking full responsibility for getting her home safely and helping her recover. Maybe he is using this as a form of therapy. I hope that it helps.
Reaching my car parked in front of the restaurant, I place both hands on the roof above the driver’s side door frame and allow my head to droop. I feel like I’ve failed her, again. She’s out there somewhere and I can’t do a damn thing to get her back home.
“Morgan?” a familiar sweet voice calls from behind me. The pain in my chest seizes when I spin around, finding spiky blonde hair tinted pink on the ends. My breathing halts when my eyes lock with the most perfect set of light-blue eyes that I’ve ever looked into. Waverly.
“How…?” I stammer. “You’re…here?”
She smiles sweetly and nods while watching me closely. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me again.”
“My God.” I take two steps toward her, my body automatically drawn to hers, but I stop short of wrapping her up in my arms, scared of what she means by that statement. “You’re the one who shouldn’t want to see me.”
“Why?” She tilts her head to the side, scrutinizing me. Obviously she wants to hear the truth from me or an apology. There’s nothing that I want more, but I’m sure as hell not going to do it in a damn parking lot in the middle of town. Just as I’m about to ask her to take a ride with me she says, “I told you in my hotel room that I wanted us to be friends, Morgan.”
Friends? Hotel room? I narrow my eyes on her, step closer and reach out, taking her roughly by the upper arms. She stiffens, but doesn’t protest. My hearing becomes distorted as my pulse rages in my ear with a mind-numbing staccato when I notice the color of her eyes morph to green right in front of me. I drop my hold, step back and run my hand around the back of my neck.
“What the hell?”
“Are you all right?” Candy asks, lifting a hand toward me. Taking a few more slows steps backward, I swivel around toward my car and slide in behind the steering wheel. “Morgan?” she calls out, but I don’t hesitate slamming my door and getting the hell away from her. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I seeing Waverly again?
Somehow I manage to find my way back to Rhys’ house safely. I note the four additional cars parked in the driveway about the time I hear a chime from my phone. I glance down, seeing an angry all-caps text from my sister, and exit my car.
SAM: WHERE ARE YOU?
***
Breesan
When I take the empty seat next to Sam in Rhys’ private office, she grabs my hand and leans forward before whispering, “Everything will be fine. You know we’ll get through all of this, as long as we work together.” Unable to process what the all is she’s referring to at the moment, I offer a small non-committal head jerk that she accepts as a nod. A moment later Morgan walks in, his gait awkward but deliberate as he crosses the room over to the small liquor bar.
“Where did you go?” Sam asks him, leaving me sitting alone.
“Nowhere,” he asserts, downing a half-glass of whiskey before pouring more. Sam places a hand on the arm holding the filled glass.
“Morgan–”
“No. Where.” Morgan snatches away from her and turns toward me. His eyes are dark and hollow-looking for a brief moment before they flash a brilliant green, and then he turns back to his sister. Deception, like someone shut all the lights off at the local cafe, but forgot to turn the open sign around to ‘Sorry We’re Closed.’ “I’m here now. Might I add it appears that I’ve beaten the others, so what’s the big damn deal?”
“I wanted to talk.”
Morgan shrugs, comes over to sit in the seat Sam vacated and smiles up at her, “Sure thing, Sis. What’s up?”
“Now?” Sam pauses to glance at me before turning her attention back to him.
“Breesan is practically family.” He tips his glass back, draining it a second time. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he lowers his tone and speculates, “It will all come out anyway, right?”
“Tac explained what happened.” Sam stands a couple of feet in front of him. He glances up and nods but remains silent. “I think we need to talk about it.”
“I’m quite possibly losing my fucking mind,” Morgan growls. “There. First step, admitting you have a problem. Now what, Dr. Walker?”
“Stop, Morgan. You’ve been through a lot of bad shit. We all have. But getting angry at me for giving a damn about you won’t help anything. So,” Sam drops down, kneeling in front of him and taking his free hand in hers, “let’s do this the right way.”
Morgan chuckles. “You mean I need to go speak with a professional.” Sam nods, but Morgan shakes his head, disagreeably. “Not now.”
Rhys strolls into the room, walking behind Sam still crouched in front of Morgan, before dropping down in the high-back leather chair behind his desk. His eyes drift over to the brother and sister still talking softly before he sh
ifts his eyes over to me. With a wink and a chin lift, he subtly calls me over.
“Where’s your boyfriend, Doll?” Rhys smirks and I offer him an exaggerated eye-roll.
“Marcus went out back to speak with Kole when we got here.”
“All right,” he replies while shifting around a stack of papers on his desk, clearing off a spot on the corner. He smacks his hand on the empty space and I sit down, keeping my feet on the floor. “How are you dealing with the new information?”
“I’m in shock,” I admit, staring down at my fingers twisting together tightly. “But I don’t know if that’s a new thing or lingering effects of what’s happened over the past two months.”
“You’re really something, you know?” My eyes flick toward him, seeing a smirk building on his lips, and I shake my head with a small shrug, not really believing that I’m capable of anything so special. “Truth is, Breesan, most people who face a fourth of the bullshit tossed your way recently would have crashed and burned almost instantly.” He tips his chin toward the hushed conversation, and I slide my eyes over to Morgan, seeing the confident man I met not too long ago grasping onto his sanity like it’s a thin thread of the whiskey he’s drinking. Soon there won’t be anything for him to hold and the responsibility of it falls directly into my lap – just like everything else that is falling apart in my friend’s lives.
Tac enters the office laughing at something he’s shared with Kole. Raithe and Marcus follow behind them. Marcus comes over to join Rhys and me behind the desk. He pulls my hand into his and kisses it before taking the empty chair in front of me. He mouths that he loves me and my heart leaps wildly inside my chest. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have Marcus Walker. “I love you,” I whisper back.