Page 31 of Creed

I haven’t heard Morgan say anything negative about the club, only the possible consequences for her career if we’re caught. But she’s more than willing to risk it since allowing me to sneak into her bed.

My president looks at me a moment longer, as if expecting me to say more before he shakes his head. “Cowen said you were calling about the cameras.”

Nash nods, pushing the laptop to him. “Creed figured it out. Looks like someone manually disabled them.”

Gage’s jaw tightens, and he glances up at me.

I raise an eyebrow. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking.”

“We have a rat in our midst,” he grits out.

Nodding, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not sure if it’s possible, but we should try to make specific passwords for anyone who has login access. Then we can trace exactly who logged in to disable them.”

Gage rubs at his jaw. “And what do we tell people about changing the passwords? It will look suspicious.”

“Especially if there’s more than one and they talk, then realize they have different codes,” Nash adds.

I roll my shoulders. “Just a suggestion. If they disabled the cameras, then they know who attacked the restaurant.”

There’s been a crowd of punks coming into our businesses and fucking with us for the past few weeks, and the one time they got caught, the cops just let them off the hook. We know they’re baiting us for a response, and we’re more worried about who is pulling their strings.

“And they might be closer to us than we suspect. Tracking our movements and plans,” Gage mutters, then he blows out a breath. “Think we can grab some food and bring it back to church? Gotta have Cowen sweep the place.”

Nash nods. “I’ll have them deliver to us. I’ll close early tonight. I don't feel like dealing with all this anymore.”

I think we’re all feeling a little like that.

12

MORGAN

I lookaround my torn up bathroom and place my hands on my hips. What the fuck? I swore I put my pills in the medicine cabinet, but they’re gone. I can’t find them in my purse, my bedroom, or here. My apartment looks like a tornado ran through it.

My phone vibrates on the counter, the rattling giving me a reprieve from the confines of my mind, the thought that I might be slowly losing it.

“Hey,” I answer.

“You busy?” Quinn asks. There’s a slight echo and her voice is a little distorted so she must be in her car.

“No, trying to find the birth control pills you sent over. What are the chances I can get pregnant if I miss a day?”

“It depends. Did someone fuck you raw and come inside you the past few days?”

Try the past several weeks. My tongue drags along my lips. “…yes.”

She gasps. “Bitch, who? The fuck?The biker.Oh my god, you fucked the biker again. There’s no one else you’d fold so fast for.”

“His name is Creed. And I thought we were covered, so I let him…you know.”

I can hear her sigh. “Morgan—okay, this is my bad. I assumed you knew when I got you in with my colleague, but he must not have explained it. Babes, you have to use protection for at least the first week you’re on it. It doesn’t start on the first day.”

I groan. “No, I knew this. Like deep enough in the few crevices of my smooth brain lately, I knew this. I just—god, he makes me reckless and I kind of like it.”

Quinn laughs. “Yeah, I bet he does. Let me double-check if it’s okay to take Plan B and get back to you. I don’t remember off the top of my head.”

“Thanks. Sorry to make it all about me. What are you doing?” I ask, moving to change out my sheets. I hate getting rid of the smell of him, but we made way too much of a mess for me to comfortably sleep in them again.

“Guess who is officially graduating and sitting for the AANP next week?” Quinn gushes happily.