Melting Point Page 7

  “I’m Liam Hayes.”

  Remy nodded. “I know.”

  Morgan glanced between them. “How do you know?”

  “He called me for flight information.”

  “And you told him?” Morgan’s eyes flashed. “You know what will happen.”

  “It’s been a long time coming.” Remy turned toward a Cadillac parked only a few spots away. “Thought you might need a lift.”

  “I’ll rent a car,” Morgan said. “You can’t be seen with me. Neither of you can!” Her narrow gaze targeted Liam.

  “I can hold my own,” Remy said. “And I suspect he can too.”

  Morgan slashed out her hand to point at Liam. “He’s an office manager! How can he —”

  “Defend myself?” Liam finished when Morgan had stopped. She had a fair point. He knew nothing of self-defense. He was probably the worst person to help. Unfortunately for them both, he was all she had.

  “We can discuss this on the way.” Remy opened the car door and sat down as if he wasn’t worried that Morgan would storm off.

  She didn’t. Morgan walked around the car and sat next to Remy, tossing her bag in the backseat.

  Interesting. Remy held some sway over Morgan. She might argue with him, but she listened to him in the end. What was their relationship? Morgan was in Vegas enough to make a long-distance relationship work. But neither seemed overly happy to see each other.

  Liam slid into the backseat, nudging Morgan’s bag over and depositing his own next to it.

  As Remy drove out of the parking lot, he asked, “Did they give you your assignment yet?”

  Morgan flicked a glance back at Liam before answering. “No. I won’t know until they contact me.”

  Remy nodded and pulled onto the freeway. Liam sat quiet, listening. He wouldn’t ask questions, not right this moment anyway. Morgan would shut down the conversation, and he’d be back to arguing with her. But there were so many questions that he had that were still unanswered. Reed could only provide some information. Morgan knew the rest.

  But the remaining car ride was in silence. It wasn’t until they reached storage units on the outskirts of town that Remy spoke.

  “I’ll be out of town for a few days,” he said. “Call if you need to, but you’re on your own.”

  “I’m always on my own.”

  Remy glanced at Liam. “Maybe not anymore.”

  Morgan frowned and opened the door, stepping out into the sun. Liam followed her lead and grabbed the bags before exiting. Without another word, Remy left them outside the fenced storage property that looked more like a dusty abandoned shelter. The broken sign, hanging on by its last nail, creaked in the soft wind.

  Why were they here? Why would Remy drop them off at a deserted building in the middle of nowhere? Liam refused to ask. He knew it would only spark a fuse. If he was patient, the answers would come.

  “Nice place,” Liam said.

  Morgan rolled her eyes and shoved past Liam to the fence. She dug out keys from her purse and opened the rusted lock. He watched as she strong armed the fence to wedge it open. He was about to ask if she needed help, but stopped himself. It would have been a mistake to try to help her now.

  He followed silently along the stretch of storage units until they reached the last one. The padlock on the roll-up door was in better shape than the one on the fence. She quickly unlocked it and tossed up the door with ease. This locker was maintained.

  Immediately he noticed a large pickup truck parked in the space. Morgan walked past the truck into the dark area behind it, disappearing from view. It took all of Liam’s resolve not to follow her in. He wanted to know what was back there, but he also knew he’d run into the wall Morgan erected around herself. She had to be the one to allow his help, which he didn’t suspect would happen anytime soon. If she didn’t, he’d have to go the route Reed suggested originally and just watch from a distance. But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t the right course of action. Morgan had been on this train wreck for years. If she hadn’t successfully jumped off by now, she wouldn’t be able to on her own.

  Liam’s phone rang, jarring him from his thoughts. It was his office. A quick glance at the dark space where Morgan dwelled gave him reason to answer the call. She wouldn’t want him around anytime soon, and he had missed too many important calls from work with this charade. If Morgan overheard his conversation and questioned it, so much the better.

  “Meyer called again this morning,” Bethany said as soon as Liam answered the call.

  “Tell Trace to work on the project. I’ll be out of the office for a few days.”

  Bethany sighed. “Trace hasn’t been in the office since you left days ago.”

  Liam stood still for a moment, letting the newest piece of information wash over him. He had promised himself he wouldn’t let Trace’s antics provoke him anymore. “Call him and tell him to take over the project.”

  “You know how he is.”

  “I do. You can also tell him I’m cutting off his funds if he doesn’t.”

  “I’ll tell him. But you threatened him with that before, and it didn’t seem to work.”

  Liam felt the veins in his neck throb as he tried to remember his promise to keep calm. But with Trace, that promise never lasted long.

  “I’ll call him now.” Liam ended the conversation and started a new one with Trace’s voicemail. “You have twenty minutes to get your ass out of bed and into the office or my next call will be to the accountant.” Liam shoved the phone into his jeans pocket and stripped off his coat, tossing it onto the bags at his feet.

  He looked up to find Morgan staring at him as if he had sprouted five snarling heads.

  “Did you just speak to one of my employees like that?” she demanded.

  * * *

  Morgan couldn’t believe what she had just overheard. She hadn’t known Liam for long, just a couple of short and painful days, but she never thought he’d be a dictator-type boss. The person who snarled into the phone as if he was facing off with an enemy was not the person who stood before her, now calm . . . resigned.

  “Who were you talking to?” Morgan prompted when he failed to answer her previous question.

  “No one of concern.”

  “It is my concern when you order someone to my office like that. I will not tolerate you abusing my employees.”

  “He’s not your employee. He’s mine.” Liam’s answers became clipped.

  Morgan could nearly feel the crackling tension as it rose within him. “They’re all the employees of Brennan Metal Works. I want to know why you spoke so harshly.” Why was he adamant that this was his employee? What was she missing? It seemed as if they were having two different conversations, and it left her confused.

  “Don’t we have other things to discuss?” he asked, nodding his head toward the storage space.

  “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms.

  “I could demand the same thing.” He mirrored her.

  They glared at each other for what seemed like hours until she finally blinked. “You need to leave,” she said. “I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  “I’m not leaving,” he said, dropping his stance. “I know you’re in trouble with the Russian mafia.”

  It was as if he’d punched her. “What do you know?”

  “Too much,” he admitted, scrubbing his hand over his face.

  Morgan took a moment to study him. If he knew about the Russians, then he did indeed know too much. And now that he was in Vegas with her, he was as good as dead unless he cooperated with them, which made her problem now his. It also made them bound to each other, at least for now. If either of them failed, they’d both share the same fate. The Ivankovs saw everything. They would know Liam was with her.

  Liam was smart, and judging from the way his dark cotton T-shirt molded to his chest and arms, he was strong. But this was the mafia. The Italian mafia might have the cornerstone in Vegas, but the Russians were . . . Russian.<
br />
  Morgan had seen the tortured, mutilated bodies. It was not a fate she wanted to share.

  If they both were to survive this, she needed to trust in Liam enough to give him details. If he didn’t understand the seriousness of this, he’d wind up making a mistake. He was an idiot to have followed her.

  “Come with me,” she said, trailing the truck to the back of the unit where all of her equipment was stored. She started the generator and turned on the lights so Liam could see properly. She didn’t have to look behind her to know that he had followed her. But, if her senses were wrong and he had fled, so much the better. “I normally use the stick welder, but sometimes the MIG if the job comes here.” She pointed to the equipment. “I’ll receive a call within the next hour or two with an assignment.”

  “What kind of assignment?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Welding.” At his irritated expression, she added, “I’m given coordinates to meet my contact. He’ll show me what I need to weld.” Morgan could sense Liam’s growing frustration with her answers. “Listen, you’re in over your head. I know you’re trying to help, but this is going to end badly for the both of us.”

  “Don’t you think I know I’m in over my head? The only reason I’m here is because you’re the next mark. They didn’t summon you to work; they called you here to kill you.”

  “How do you know?” Morgan demanded as the air escaped her. How was it he knew what she had suspected for a while now? Dmitri had made the threat before, but that was normal. The Ivankovs always threatened her. But these last few times she was called out, she had a deep-rooted suspicion that she’d find herself in one of her welded coffins.

  Chapter 9

  Liam let out a frustrated breath. Morgan was trying to tell her circumstances using soft words. He didn’t need the G-rated version of her story. He needed to know everything.

  Liam lowered the tailgate of the truck and sat down, motioning for her to sit as well. When she hesitantly sat down next to him, he said, “I have a friend that is FBI — or was. He asked if I could find out more about your family, specifically you, though I don’t think he fully knew that at the time.”

  “The FBI knows about me?” Her hand flew to her heart. “What do they know? Am I going to jail?”

  Liam shook his head. “Reed’s gone dark. He has no sway at the FBI right now. His partner went rogue and took him down in the process. He needed to know your involvement.”

  “I don’t understand how his partner has anything to do with me.”

  “Reed killed Vitaly Ivankov, her father. Sonya has taken over the business and put a marker on Reed.”

  “He killed the Russian godfather? Did he know?”

  “He was working at the time, so yes, he did know. He didn’t do so lightly. He’s not an assassin. There was gunfire, and he did what he was trained to do. Reed said he had no choice in the matter, either way. He was cornered, and Sonya’s loyalty to her mob family trumped that of the FBI.”

  “Does this mean she might not know who I am?”

  “I’m sure she’s known about you for some time. You need to be careful. She’s as ruthless as her father.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “Two months ago.”

  Morgan nodded. “It would make sense. I never felt safe around the family, but over the last two months, I had the impression my time was limited.” Morgan frowned. “So, this entire time, you never wanted a job. You wanted information. Were you going to turn me in?”

  “I was helping a friend. At first I didn’t know why he wanted my help. I didn’t even know he had gone dark. I took some time away from work to help him.”

  He couldn’t read Morgan’s expression. It seemed as if she was mulling over thoughts. If he had any insight into Morgan’s mind, she was figuring out a way to get rid of him.

  “When your dad died, you inherited this,” Liam said, gesturing to the equipment.

  “He had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  Morgan shook her head. “Grandpa started the business in Vegas, and I think that’s when they found my dad years later. I’m sure he tried to say no, but I found out quickly that word isn’t in their vocabulary. Dad decided to move the company out of Nevada, but that didn’t stop the bratva. They kept coming after him until —”

  “Until he died, and then they came after you.”

  Morgan nodded. “I think they killed him.”

  Liam sat quietly for a moment, not knowing what to say. Piper’s words came back to him. She had said Morgan took over the family business as soon as their father had died, that Morgan wouldn’t let anyone in his office or near the files.

  “How do you know?” Liam asked.

  “My father drowned. He was a better swimmer than Greer. The only way he could have died in the water is if someone held him under.”

  “Did you know he was involved with the bratva?”

  “I didn’t know what he did for them, but I knew he was involved. I remember late-night phone calls, last-minute trips to Vegas. Since my mother had passed away by then, I was the one he counted on to watch my sisters.”

  “What about Walter? Didn’t he know?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think Dad kept his own counsel. If Grandpa knew, he never let on. And, we do have legitimate clients in Vegas.”

  Liam lifted a brow. “Like Remy?”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Morgan’s lips. “You saw through the file.”

  “I can spot a falsified document within seconds.” Liam sighed. “I’ve had a lot of practice while dealing with Trace.”

  “Trace?”

  “My brother.”

  Morgan’s face widened in comprehension. “That’s who you were talking to on the phone earlier.”

  “His voicemail.”

  “So, your brother works for you. Where?”

  Liam paused, contemplating. It wasn’t as if the information was a secret. Morgan could search his name on the web and find out that he owned Cast Again Foundry. But it was one thing to stick his own neck on the line; he didn’t want to bring the business into it.

  “Never mind,” Morgan said quickly. “It’s better if I don’t know.”

  “It’s not that —”

  “No. Really, I don’t want to know. It’s better that way.”

  Her words conflicted with the snap in her voice. Why was everything so difficult with Morgan? Liam would be the first to admit that he didn’t get along with everyone, but he wasn’t used to being pushed away so quickly either.

  Morgan stood and walked over to the equipment, then turned around quickly. “You said Sonya was as ruthless as her father.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Reed told me.” Liam hated to lie, but there was no reason to drag the past up now. It filled a dark corner in his mind, one that he never visited, not even in his dreams.

  Morgan seemed satisfied with the answer and turned back to the gear. She inventoried, cleaned, reorganized, and ignored Liam. It was as if she was throwing a blockade at him as she focused solely on equipment that she had used a thousand times before.

  What was it about her that made him want to run? And yet, here he was trying to help her. She was pretty, but frowned too much. She was smart, but her words were barbed. So, what was it about her?

  No. It wasn’t about Morgan. He had to remember he was doing this for Reed. Helping Morgan was only a bonus that didn’t really amount to much.

  Then why did his eyes follow her so intensely?

  * * *

  Morgan felt Liam watching her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was probably sickened by what she’d been doing these last few years. He wasn’t the only one. Every time she was called out, every time she saw the victim, every time she woke up in the middle of the night, it was a testament to her weakness. If she were stronger she could have found a way to stop the bratva. But she couldn’t find a way.

  It d
idn’t stop her from trying.

  “I saved a file,” she said, not turning to look at Liam. She didn’t want to see his reaction, to witness his judgment.

  “What kind of file?”

  “It gives locations of each victim that I know of. If I . . .” Morgan swallowed. “It’s on a timer that I reset every week. If I should die, the file will be sent to the police.”

  The truck squeaked as Liam stood from the tailgate. His footsteps grew close.

  “There were many times I wanted to send it on my own,” Morgan continued. “But, I didn’t. I’m a coward.” She turned to face Liam, not knowing why she was admitting her faults. She’d never confessed to anyone else. Maybe because he’d already judged her she thought it wouldn’t make a difference. It wouldn’t hurt.

  “You were protecting your family,” he said.

  “I was allowing more people to be killed.” Morgan curled her hands into fists, summoning strength that she didn’t allow herself before. “I’m ending this today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m done working for them. I’m done burying their crimes.”

  Liam’s brow furrowed. “What are you planning?”

  She hadn’t been planning anything, not yet anyway. But this had to stop. Her soul couldn’t take much more of it. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something. I have to, don’t I? You’ve now been dragged into this as well.”

  “I can fend for myself,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I don’t need you playing martyr for my sake.”

  Morgan laughed. “I’m not playing martyr for anyone. I don’t plan on dying today.” She stepped back, allowing more space between them.

  “If I’m going to help you, I need to know exactly what you’re planning.”

  “I won’t know until I get the call.”

  Whatever happened today, it would be the end. She’d make sure of it.

  * * *

  Liam retreated to the tailgate, distancing himself from Morgan. When she said she was done working for the bratva, it was as if she welded her own coffin closed. Morgan knew what would happen if she denied the Ivankovs. They would kill her without hesitation. So, did she already have a plan and wasn’t forthcoming? As he watched her, her shoulders stooped as if they were weighted down by two elephants. She was about ready to collapse under the years of continuous stress.