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“My grandfather’s what?” Morgan boomed with fury.
“What the fuck, Alex!” Bash scolded. “Morgan didn’t even know who her grandfather or her parents were until yesterday!”
“Calm down, Sebastian,” Alex said in an even voice. “I’m not accusing Morgan of anything. I’m trying to protect her from some hotshot FBI agent trying to find a scapegoat. I guarantee they will start pouring over her grandfather’s business for any illegal activities based solely on his past. That’s why we want an experienced attorney to control the narrative. They may try to freeze her assets. Her name could become public in the investigation, affecting her reputation by association. Tie this whole thing up in court for years.”
Bash glanced at Morgan. Her face was crestfallen. A single tear streamed down the side of her cheek. He felt like crap that he had brought her into the meeting, but she had to know what was ahead of her so she would be prepared.
She cleared her throat. “My grandfather’s attorney, Robert Watson, handled the sale of his motorcycle repair shop and all his other assets in my inheritance. Mr. Watson had an accountant audit 21 years of receipts and ledgers. He wanted to be sure that they were thorough before he and the accountant signed off on the sale. In other words, let the FBI look all they want,” Morgan said defiantly. “Pops told me a long time ago that he would never do anything to jeopardize losing me, and I believed him.
“I haven’t spent a dime of that money. If they find some trumped-up reason to take what Pops worked hard to earn, I’ll be sad that he was discredited, but I won’t miss it. I can take care of myself. I owe that to Pops. I appreciate y’all finding me an attorney, but I’ll take it from here. Goodbye, gentlemen.”
Bash’s heart squeezed as he watched her walk out the front door.
“Way to go, Alex,” Gray said. “For an attorney, you have zero tact. That woman saved Bash’s ass, and you made her feel like a criminal.”
“She had to understand what she was facing. How the FBI may read the situation,” Alex said in his defense.
“Yeah, well, that was for her attorney to explain to her, not you, embarrassing her in front of us. It was a dick move, Alex,” Bash said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I got to go. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“No! Wait, Bash! We haven’t talked about Fontana or your security y…” but Gray didn’t get to finish his thought.
Bash disconnected. He didn’t give a damn what they wanted to say. He needed to find Morgan.
When he didn’t find her on the porch, he looked in the garage to make sure her bike was still there. Even though he saw her Sportster, he had an impulse to touch it just to be sure. He didn’t want to examine why there was a sudden pang in his chest at the thought of her disappearing from his life as quickly as she had appeared. He remembered passing a park a couple of blocks away and decided to check it out. Perhaps she needed some alone time to process the possibility that the authorities may try to implicate her or Pops in illegal activities. He hadn’t considered it either. It appeared she wasn’t the only one who had been naive.
Bash couldn’t help feeling his friends had let him down. Their lack of empathy for Morgan, after what she had selflessly done for him, left him cold. They spoke to her in a sterile manner, addressing her possible legal perils rather than the real threats she was facing to her life. When had his friends become so self-serving? All about damage control without regard to the effects on others. When had he?
He spotted her sitting on a wooden-seated rope swing hanging from the branch of a sturdy oak tree. Head down, she swayed from side to side, watching the toe of her boot drag through the dirt. Her back was to him, so she didn’t see his approach. When she suddenly stopped, he did too, feeling sure she felt his eyes on her—but that wasn’t the case. He stared as she used her feet to turn the swing around and around until the rope was twisted taut against her stomach. With both hands firmly on the sides of the rope, her shoulders and head extended backwards, and her hair barely touching the ground, she picked up her feet and laughed out loud as the ropes unwound at a dizzying pace. All the tension on her face was gone. The last rays of sunset caught the reflection of the golden highlights in her free-flying cinnamon-red hair. The pure joy that exuded from her angelic face was breathtaking. He wasn’t sure he had seen anything so moving in his life. In that unguarded moment of release, she was completely free. Lost in whatever memory she was reliving in her head and heart. That’s when he knew. He had to leave. His presence was an intrusion. These were her few moments of escape, and he had no right to witness it. Rushing out of the park, he turned back to make sure that he hadn’t been seen. The swing had stilled, and her face was lifted toward the setting sun, maybe in prayer. He would never know, but he would never forget it either.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sebastian was asleep on the blue sectional sofa when Morgan arrived back at the apartment. She knew her abrupt exit from the meeting earlier must have seemed like a childish tantrum to the powerful men working for Bash. They claimed to be helping her, but she knew they were only doing it at Bash’s insistence and were merely trying to mitigate the trouble she might cause him. Their scare tactics were to keep her under control and eventually eradicate her from his life. They had all the answers. Who was she but a silly kindergarten teacher? The daughter of a human trafficker and the granddaughter of a man who they believe never left his criminal past. Their suspicion that she was somehow involved hung over their words. Bash had tried to defend her, but she knew that, ultimately, he would follow the advice and course his friends had set. She would accept the attorney they offered, but she would do so on her own terms without their interference.
“What time is it?” Bash asked, rubbing his eyes.
“After six. You hungry?”
He sat up and swung his legs on the floor. “I could eat.”
“How does pizza sound? I’m starving.”
“Can we talk first?” he asked with a serious tone.
She eased down on the coffee table in front of him. “If we have to,” she said, twisting her lips.
“I’m sorry about what happened before. My friends can be jerks sometimes.”
“They’re only looking out for your best interest,” she conceded.
“Yeah, well, there are two of us in this partnership, and that doesn’t work for me.”
“They are your partners, Bash. I’m just a girl who serendipitously stumbled into your life.”
“We’ve been through this before. I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I’m beginning to think you don’t trust me.” He put his hands on her knees, then enunciated every word. “We are seeing this through together. Nothing has changed because my overprotective friends think they know what’s best for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you and I will work directly with Sam Barrett, the security consultant Gray hired. Get his advice on the best way to meet Fontana. Next, we call what’s his name—Parker…”
