“Well, don’t I get a hug?” she asked, holding her hands at her sides, palms out.
Sighing, Morgan stepped forward and hugged her, feeling like a teenager once again as she broke down sobbing on her mother’s shoulder even though she had to bend her head down to do so.
They stood there for a while, both crying without words, Joan patting Morgan’s shaking back. At last, Joan’s tears eased up enough for her to guide Morgan into the apartment and over to the couch to sit down knee to knee.
“Now, will you please tell me what’s wrong?” Joan asked, glancing around and grabbing a towel from the back of the couch to wipe their faces with.
On a ragged breath, Morgan considered what she could truthfully tell her mother without sounding insane. She still didn’t entirely believe it all herself. “I…got involved with a bad one, Mom. I haven’t seen him in a while, but he…attacked me last night at work. And I’m afraid for Joey. I…I need you to take care of him for a while. I mean, I don’t know if you can, or if you have time, or…”
Joan hushed her. “I will always have time to take care of my grandbaby. And my girl. Now, let’s fix you some breakfast and we’ll figure this out together.”
Laughing through her tears, Morgan followed her mother to the kitchen. What was it about morning people and their belief in breakfast? She sat on a stool at the short bar and watched her mother cook.
“Good, I see you’re finally keeping some decent food around,” Joan said while pulling out the gray carton of eggs and a jug of milk.
Morgan rested her chin in her hand, letting the image of her mother’s cooking routine settle her so she could think better. Soon the familiar smell of cooking eggs filled the kitchen amid the sound of the metal spatula clattering in the frying pan.
“Mom, I think we need to talk about…about our fight. You know, before I left.” Morgan felt the air catch and hold in her lungs, then slowly seep in and out in shallow breaths. She was scared to know the truth. But she also had to know, now, before they talked about anything else.
Joan stared down at the stove and nodded. “I think so too. I…I should apologize for what I said. I know you’re a good momma to Joey. I saw how well you took care of yourself while you was pregnant with him. And how you always put him first once he was born. I…I never shoulda pushed you so hard to do things my way.”
“Did you really want to take Joey away from me?” Morgan bit her lip hard, trying not to start crying again. She needed her eyes clear so she could search her mother’s face for the truth.
Jade turned towards her, her face lined with sorrow. “No, and I’ll never forgive myself for threatening to do that. I swear, I never woulda taken him from you, Morgan. I might not’ve agreed with the hours you were working, but you was only doing your best to provide for him. I’m sorry. More sorry than you can know for saying what I did.”
Morgan closed her eyes and let the air whoosh out of her lungs. Her mother had never been able to lie without it showing in her face and eyes. And her mother wasn’t lying to her now. Nodding, she opened her eyes once more, a small smile growing on her face.
“Okay. That’s good to hear.”
In the middle of breakfast, Joey woke up burbling loudly from his crib. Already cooing before she even reached the hallway, Joan went swooping after him, then brought him back with tear filled eyes.
“Oh Morgan, I could beat you for keeping him from me for so long. Lord, how he’s grown. Gonna be tall like his grandpa was, I think.”
Morgan watched her mother holding her son with a growing ache in her chest. Oh lord, how could she possibly go through with this? It was obvious from the beatific smile on her mother’s face that Joan adored Joey. But then again, so did Morgan.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes again as she fed Joey spoonfuls of scrambled egg for what had to be the last time for who knew how long. Joan wanted to stay for a few days, but Morgan shook her head and started packing Joey’s things right after breakfast. If she waited much longer, she might change her mind and be unable to let him go. Besides, Kilo could decide at any moment to come back. She needed Joey safe before that happened.
While her mother sat playing with Joey in the living room, Morgan packed his toys then carried most of his things out to her mother’s car. While in the parking lot, she transferred his car seat from her car to her mother’s, then broke down sobbing while threading the seat belt through its base to secure it.
“Dear God, help me. Help me do this,” she begged the heavens above, unsure if God would even hear her now. Did God hear vampire prayers?
Drying her face, Morgan managed to make it back to the apartment and nodded at her mother even as more tears poured down her face.
She took Joey into her arms, holding his sweet little body close to her one last time as she carried him down the stairs to the car. Her mother silently followed, hugging them both at the car while Morgan sobbed, soaking the top of Joey’s wispy blond hair. When he started to squirm within her arms, she put him in his car seat, strapped him in, and handed him a toy.
“Okay,” Morgan said, sniffing hard and swiping at her wet face as she stood up. “His diaper bag with diapers, baby bottles, diaper wipes, and a couple of changes of clothes are in the front passenger seat for you. And I put some of his toys in there too so you can change them out during the trip if he gets bored. You know he’s not allergic to anything, and I put his medical records for his shots and checkups and stuff in the trunk with the rest of his clothes and things. Do you need his crib?”
Joan shook her head, tears wetting her face too, though she tried to smile reassuringly at her daughter. “I’ve still got yours, remember?”
Smiling, Morgan nodded.
“I know this is hard, Morgan, but it’s not for forever. You just call me when you get things worked out and it’s safe for him to come back, and I’ll bring him to you. You can come see him anytime you want. I’ll have Mrs. Briggs next door watch him while I work. Is that all right?”
Morgan nodded. Mrs. Briggs had watched her for a couple of years before she grew old enough to stay at home alone. She knew Mrs. Briggs was a sweet lady who’d keep her son safe while her mom was gone.
“Thank you Mom. I’ll send you money from my paychecks every two weeks to help out with diapers and stuff.”
Joan waved her hand in the air. “I don’t need it. Only had myself to look after, and I’m making real good tips at Jonny’s Café. Joey’s needs aren’t gonna put me into bankruptcy anytime soon.”
Morgan smiled. “All the same, I’ll still send you some. Please…just keep him safe for me, okay? And call me when you get there so I know you made it safely?”
Nodding, Joan hugged her tightly. Then she got into her car and put on her seatbelt, waved at Morgan, and pulled slowly away.
Morgan watched the car leave the parking space, stop at the street, then turn right toward the freeway and out of her life. Sitting down in the parking lot heedless of the gravel and bits of trash, Morgan buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Chapter Nine
Some time later when the sun had shifted from directly overhead to throw afternoon shadows around the building, Morgan managed to drag herself to her feet. The three flights of stairs to her apartment had never seemed like such long a journey to climb before today. Exhausted by the time she reached her home, now so empty without the joyful presence of her son, Morgan lay on the sofa, unable to find the courage to face Joey’s empty crib, and slept through the night, thankful it was Sunday and the bar was closed.
She spent the next two days sitting in the shadows of her bedroom on the edge of her bed staring at the empty crib, not really seeing the pale yellow of the wooden bars or the bright primary colored trains printed on its sheets. Part of her seemed to be constantly waiting and listening for Joey, as if maybe he were just in the living room napping and sure to wake up at any moment. She knew she should eat something as the day stretched on, but she wasn’t hungry or thirsty. Part of her w
anted to punish her body, which had become infected through her own stupidity and naiveté. She had no one to blame for losing Joey, no one but herself. She’d allowed Kilo to come into this very room so many times, only feet from where Joey slept, allowed him to be in jeopardy while she’d given in to her carnal need for pleasure. And instead of choosing the nobler option of death at Kilo’s hands, she’d taken the selfish way out.
She deserved to lose her baby, and hated herself for it.
On Wednesday afternoon, like an automated robot, Morgan got herself dressed for work, steered her benumbed body to her car and into the saloon, and made her way behind the bar without greeting anyone. Brianna must have finally spoken to the other MDGs, as several of them started whispering and glancing her way when she first entered the bar, only to fall silent when she drew near to check the fridge for what beers needed to be restocked for the evening. But their whispering didn’t bother her for once. She just wanted to do her job and get it over with, be away from her empty apartment for a while, surrounded by noise and movement so she wouldn’t feel so empty and dead inside.
She fortified herself with a shot of tequila before the bar opened, then shut out all thought except how to pour each drink and making change for each order. The hustle and routine of work was somewhat of a temporary comfort, until the end of the evening when Brianna asked her how she was doing. Morgan shrugged, unable to meet her boss’s eyes, and continued opening beers to serve.
“How’s Joey?” Brianna asked, her blue gray eyes filled with concern.
Hearing her son’s name drew a slash of pain inside Morgan. She sucked in a long breath in surprise, fought for control, then let the air out slowly through her nose. “I sent him to live with my mother for awhile.”
She turned away, unable to continue the conversation.
Then it was time to perform the last of their dance routines for the night. Morgan climbed up to the makeshift stage as always, then went through the motions of the dance, not seeing the faces below her, not even caring if Jonathan was there tonight. What did it matter if he was? He’d already made it clear how he felt about her.
Her body moved to the beat as she’d been trained, but her mind felt as if it was floating underwater, all color dulled, even her sense of smell lessened so that she could barely register the scent of heavy cigarette smoke filling the room with a growing haze.
The song over, Brianna demanded Morgan take a break from the bar for a while, walk around the room, and stretch her legs before finishing up their last hour of business. Shrugging, Morgan followed her orders, ambling listlessly around the edge of the room until she found herself facing a familiar broad chest in an equally familiar white silk button up shirt, the same one Jonathan had worn the night they’d first met.
“Hello Morgan, how are you?” he asked, making every effort to keep his voice carefully polite so hopefully his hurt wouldn’t seep through. He took a long pull from his beer.
She shrugged and didn’t meet his eyes, seeming to stare at the buttons on his shirt.
“How’s Joey?” Jonathan winced, hearing the pained hitch in his voice.
“He…he’s gone,” she whispered, and he could only understand the words in the noise of the room because he’d read them from her lips.
“Gone? Where?” Shit. Had Kilo gotten to him? All the more reason to kill the bastard. He’d do something, track him down. Maybe even plead with the sadistic vamp in return for Joey’s life. If it wasn’t too late. He’d already lost his sister and Morgan to Kilo. If he lost Joey too…
“I sent him to live with my mother.” Her face remained expressionless, unseeing, appearing almost catatonic.
Damn, she was like a walking zombie. Her dancing hadn’t been much better. Yeah, her body had hit all the right moves at all the right times during the performance, but he’d seen her face and the death within her eyes. Now he knew what had caused that look.
“Damn,” he said, more to himself than to her. Relief flooded his system at the same time as reluctant concern for Morgan. “Are you all right?”
Her laughter came out in three short expels of air, and now her eyes danced and glittered dangerously. “Do I fucking look all right to you? I’m a fucking vampire! I’m a danger to my son, my mother, every fucking person in this bar! Do you think I’m all right?”
She looked ready to shatter, her eyes swinging wildly from side to side as her voice rose to a near shriek that was barely covered by the crowd. She was losing it.
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the hallway in front of the beer cooler. He’d intended to take her out to the alleyway, but her sudden back peddling when catching sight of the exit door reminded him of last night’s attack. Shit, he was a moron. So he stopped in front of the cooler instead and faced her, angry at her, angry at Kilo, but more than anything, angry at himself.
“I’ll make him pay, I swear to God I will,” Jonathan said, releasing her wrist before he caved to his body’s demands and grabbed the rest of her. The need to touch her was an actual, physical ache in his chest. He hadn’t slept for two nights now. He was too filled with the need to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, even knowing it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. She’d become just like Kilo now. Nothing could ever be the same between them again. She was a killer.
But she wasn’t, and his logical side knew it. She’d never killed anyone, probably never hurt a soul in her life, save for maybe her mother as far as he could tell. Instinct told him she was still his Morgan. But he pushed these thoughts away, denied them as truth, told himself it was just her vampire charms working on him.
Shaking her head, Morgan finally looked up at him. Then she burst into tears.
“Aw fuck, baby.” He was a lost man, gathering her into his arms, leaning against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor with her across his lap. He rocked her and let his own tears slide down his face. There was time for manly pride and ego later. Right now, he just fucking hurt with a pain that couldn’t be stiff-lipped through.
She buried her face against his neck, wrapped her arms around him, felt his arms holding her tightly. The hurt, anger and frustration poured out of her, soaking the front of his shirt and his skin. He ran a hand over her head and down her hair, stroked her back, whispered promises that it would be okay, that they’d find a way to fix things.
She wanted to argue that they couldn’t be fixed. She was a freaking vampire now, and everyone she loved was human. How in the world could that be fixed without damning them all to hell for all eternity?
But being in his strong arms, held against his hard chest, his cheek resting against the top of her head, felt too good, too comforting to dwell on her negative thoughts. He made her want to be optimistic, to believe that they could find a solution. He made her want to believe they had a chance at a future together somehow.
Her sobbing gradually slowed. She wished she could breathe in the comforting smell of him again, as she’d missed it for two days now. But her nose was way too stuffy.
Brianna suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking not a bit surprised to find them holding each other on the floor in front of the cooler.
“Are you two finally ready to move on and catch the bastard, or what?” she demanded, an irritated smile spreading on her face.
Morgan and Jonathan stared at each other. Jonathan answered for them both. “We’re more than ready.”
“All right. We’re having a little…get together after we shut down the bar tonight. Stick around and we’ll see what we can come up with.” Brianna turned to leave, but Morgan stopped her.
“Who’s ‘we’ exactly?”
Brianna looked at her as if she were a very sad vampire indeed. “Three of the other MDGs and myself, of course. What, you didn’t think you were the only one Kilo pulled this shit on, did you?”
The bar couldn’t close down soon enough for Morgan. Jonathan took a seat at the bar near her and never left for the rest of the hour. The strength of his supportive presence turned
her sadness into anger, and for once it wasn’t directed inward. If she’d been the only victim of Kilo’s, she could’ve continued blaming it all on herself. But he’d done this same thing to five other women at the Midnight Saloon. That made her loss of her child his fault, not hers.
She was ready to do much more than just catch the bastard. Morgan wanted to make him pay for the life sentence he’d given her.
After the bar closed down and most of the staff had left, Brianna pulled up several chairs around one of the few tables at the back of the room near the pool table. Morgan took a seat on her left, with Jonathan on Morgan’s left side. She watched as Pamela, Sammie, and Tricia joined them. The group of women shared surprised smiles.
“So that explains all those weird looks you’ve been giving me,” Morgan couldn’t help blurting out to Pamela.
The blonde smiled tightly at her. “Yeah. I didn’t realize…our new situation until yesterday when Brianna told me the news. Guess I know now where all my weird cravings for rare steaks have been coming from.”
Morgan’s mouth watered a little and she grimaced. “Uh, that sounds kind of good, actually.”
Pamela laughed shortly. “Welcome to the club.”
The bar’s front door opened suddenly and a tall, studious looking man walked in, directing a tight smile towards Brianna as he joined the group at the table.
“Am I late?” he asked, giving Brianna a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled, patted his hand, and pulled up a chair on her right for him.
“Everyone, this is Steven, my fiancé. Steven, this is Morgan, Kilo’s newest victim as of last night, and her…” Brianna’s voice trailed away, apparently unsure what to call him.
Jonathan rose to his feet, leaned across the table, and shook Steven’s hand. “Jonathan Dexter.”
Midnight Dream Girls 2: The Scent of Revenge Page 11