I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to disrespect him. “Sure. Why not?”
His lip twitched. “At the end of the day, if someone doesn’t enhance your life, fuck ’em.”
I don’t know what I’d been expecting him to say, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. Surprised, I stared at him, wondering how to respond.
He wasn’t done, though. “You don’t need that kind of family,” he added. “You have a whole club full of brothers. We might not be perfect, but at least we’ll always have your back.”
This shit was too heavy. I felt like I should thank him, but what he was offering sounded too good to be true, and I was skeptical. Besides, emotion had lodged a lump in my throat, and I couldn’t speak if I wanted to. Instead, I nodded and made for the door as quickly as my defective ass legs would take me.
Hating the memories talking about my childhood had conjured, I headed toward the bathroom to get a moment alone. Before I reached it, Morse texted me to let me know I could go back to the office. Relieved to be returning to work and put the whole conversation behind me, I adjusted my course.
When I returned, Mila was still there, sitting in the chair beside Morse’s desk. She had a clipboard on her lap and was busily scribbling something down. She looked up long enough to offer me a quick smile as I sat and moved my mouse, waking up my computer screen.
A few minutes later, Mila plopped the clipboard on Morse’s desk.
“You finished?” he asked.
“Yep. Usernames and passwords to all my email accounts. I put a star beside the one he hacked into. You really think you can track his location through the emails he sent?”
“Depends on how good he is,” Morse replied. “I called in the cavalry, though, and if anyone can help me find this motherfucker, it’s Tap. He’s former military intelligence, among other things he won’t tell me. If this guy can be found, we’ll find him. Come on. I’ll take you up to one of the rooms so you can get some rest.”
The two of them left. Fighting the urge to check out the clipboard they’d left behind, I kept my eyes on my screen and my fingers on my keyboard and mouse.
Stay in your lane, dumbass.
No matter how captivating Mila was, she wasn’t worth risking my job—or at the very least, pissing off my boss—over.
Morse returned about a half hour later, seeming hella distracted. “You good?” he asked. “You got any questions for me?”
I had more questions than I could voice, but none of them pertained to work. “Nope. I’m good. Just truckin’ along.”
“Good. Thanks. It’s a relief to have you here, Hound. You doing that has freed me up to look into Mila’s problem.”
It felt damn good to be needed. “I’ll help with whatever you need, brother.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” He sat in front of his laptop and went back to work, occasionally looking over the clipboard Mila had left behind.
Tap showed up about an hour later, and after a quick hello to me, the two of them put their laptops together and typed away, speaking in a language that held hints of English woven throughout technical jargon. I recognized some words and phrases, but they spoke way too quickly for me to keep up.
They were still at it when I clocked out and logged off my computer.
“Good job today, Hound,” Morse said, sparing me a quick glance before his gaze darted back to his screen. “I’ll see you at church tonight.”
“Thank you. See you both there.” I slipped out and stopped by the kitchen to grab some dinner before heading up to my room to get dressed for church.
“New business?” Link asked, once again opening the floor for discussion.
We’d already gone over old business and the minutes from the last meeting. I was perched on a pew toward the back of the room with the rest of the prospects. We were allowed to attend the meetings, but we only spoke when questioned and weren’t allowed to vote until we officially patched in as members.
Morse’s hand shot up like a rocket. When Link acknowledged him, Morse said, “My cousin, Amelia, is in trouble. Her best friend and one of her clients were recently murdered, and she’s been getting these… threatening Bible verses.”
“What the fuck is a threatening Bible verse?” our club treasurer, Specks, asked.
I’d been wondering the same thing, and was glad he asked.
“The overarching theme of the Bible is love and grace, but some old testament verses demand blood for sin,” Morse replied. “It’s all in the interpretation, and trust me, plenty of sick motherfuckers have used these verses as justification to wipe out entire groups of people. I mean, look at the crusades.”
“And you think some religious fanatic is after your cousin?” Link asked.
