Melting Point

by Pierce, Nicolette

Morgan had a feeling Sonya knew exactly who was in the shed. But if Morgan was able to maneuver Liam outside for a reunion, then perhaps Liam could sway Sonya or, at the very least, escape.

  “If Sonya want talk, Sonya talk.” Dmitri repositioned the shield and took the welding gun. “Hold.”

  Morgan flicked the shield down and held the metal as Dmitri touched the wire to the steel, igniting sparks and drowning out any chance of conversation. She thought of different ways she could stall, but none of them would work on Dmitri. Unless . . .

  She glanced at the copper spool, feeding the spitting fire. It hadn’t been a full spool to begin with, and the way Dmitri was globing it on his disproportionate welds, he’d run out of it before the twenty were finished. With stores now closed for the night, he couldn’t finish in time. A delay was just what they needed. So, instead of correcting his work, she bit her tongue and watched.

  Liam had caught her eye between welds, and the question that she read in them was the same as her own. What in the world was she up to? She was navigating by the seat of her pants and only hoped that Liam would play along. Not being able to openly speak with him was hard enough, but not being able to return eye contact due to the shield was horrible. All he could see was a black mask. He couldn’t see the desperate plans she was concocting.

  It was two hours later when Dmitri finally noticed the diminishing spool. “We need more.”

  “This is all I have,” Morgan said. “I would have bought more had I known.”

  “What about storage?”

  Morgan shook her head. “This is it.”

  Dmitri tossed down the gloves, cursing in Russian. He looked at the pile of sheet metal. “How many more?”

  “Maybe five at the most, but we wouldn’t be able to seal the lids.”

  “I go to store.” Dmitri was already on his way to the door.

  Morgan wasn’t sure if she should tell him that it was well after midnight and the stores were closed. Maybe he knew someone in the business. Or, maybe, he’d just break in. Either way, he didn’t seem like he wanted her opinion, so she stayed silent, this time able to make eye contact with Liam.

  As soon as Dmitri was out of earshot, Liam said, “You seem to have a plan. What is it?”

  “I’m stalling. I knew we’d run out of wire with the way he was using it. Unless he breaks into a store, we’re done for the night.”

  “I had a feeling there was a reason you weren’t correcting him. Even I was having a hard time holding my tongue.”

  “I was biting mine nearly off.”

  Liam smiled. “I figured.”

  Morgan narrowed her eyes. “Figured what?”

  “Just that you are a perfectionist. Anyone in your employ would have to be too, otherwise you’d never get any work done.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “Not at all. But if it is, then I’m guilty as well. Ask anyone at my office, but not Trace. He will fill your ears with tales of cruelty.” Liam took a seat on the floor and stretched out his legs in a V. “Here, sit in front of me. Your back has to hurt from bending down that whole time.”

  Morgan looked at the space between his legs that he indicated she should sit in. It seemed like an insanely intimate thing to do, but he was right. Her back was sore. Accidentally turning too fast might bunch her muscles into tight knots for days. And, if she needed another excuse to sit by him, it was for heat. Since the sun had set hours ago, the temperature had dropped. Liam had to be freezing without a shirt. Interestingly enough, he didn’t look very cold. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked.

  “The Ivankovs.”

  “You know what I mean.” He looked at Morgan, his head angling slightly to the side as if he could figure her out at a different angle. “Are you afraid of me? I didn’t mean to come on so strongly when we first met. I really don’t know what got into me. Maybe I was experiencing an adrenaline spike on my first spying assignment.” He smiled playfully, his lips perfectly framing his teeth.

  “Which I should be mad about.”

  “You’re not?”

  Morgan shook her head. “At first, but it seems so long ago and so insignificant. Plus, if you hadn’t, I’d be here all alone.”

  “At least I’m preferable to being alone.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know.”

  “In fact, I thought that if we had met under different circumstances that —” What in God’s name was she saying! She nearly blurted out something better left unsaid. It’d only make things awkward between them. She was about to turn around to hide from his curious stare when he finished her sentence.

  “That we’d like each other?” Liam smiled. “Angel, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I do like you. I wouldn’t have kissed you otherwise. The question is, do you like me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I think it’s safe if you sit down and let me rub some of the knots away.”

  Morgan conceded. There were no more arguments to be made, and she didn’t want to bother anyway. The fact that he admitted that he liked her made her feel as silly and giddy as a fourteen-year-old with a mad crush.

  Morgan slowly sat between Liam’s legs, making sure she didn’t accidentally clobber him. It wasn’t that she was clumsy by nature, but he seemed to make her rethink her own strength. Instead of sturdy legs and strong arms, her limbs now had the consistency of Piper’s overcooked noodles.

  As Liam’s hands moved along her shoulders and back, she felt the temperature shifting from the cold air to warm hands and then back to cold air. She wished he had twenty more hands.

  After a few minutes of a heavenly massage, he stopped and pulled her back into him, clasping his arms around her. She leaned against him, allowing herself the freedom to relax, if only for a few minutes.

  “You’re shivering,” he said.

  “It’s getting really cold. We should have thought to bring coats.”

  “We didn’t have the option.”

  “You have to be freezing without a shirt on.”

  He brushed her hair back, tucking it behind one shoulder and exposing her neck to the crisp air. She was about to put it back, so at least her neck stayed warm, when he lowered his head, pressing his lips against the spot where her neck and shoulder met. The stubble along his jaw brushed against her.

  When was the last time she’d felt the scratch of a man’s five o’clock shadow running along her skin? It seemed like such a simple thing, but she couldn’t remember.

  Morgan wanted to ask him about his work, if only to detour her runaway thoughts. Instead, she ran her fingers over his arm still wrapped around her waist. He had perfect arms. Not so muscular as to pop the veins out; she hated that. And a light layer of hair, not a thick carpet.

  “That tickles,” he murmured, his lips near her ear.

  She stopped tracing his arm and turned her head to look at him. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not.” He stared at her for a moment. “Not at all sorry.”

  The bolt scraped open, giving Liam and Morgan a split-second warning before Dmitri stomped in.

  “We are done,” Dmitri announced, scowling.

  “You couldn’t buy any wire?” Morgan asked.

  “Nyet, all closed.”

  “Can you steal it?” Morgan didn’t really want to give him options, but she was curious as to why he hadn’t already. Isn’t that what a thief was supposed to do?

  “Ivankovs don’t steal.”

  “Then what do they do?”

  Dmitri’s lips quirked up into a tight smile. “Make people steal for us.”

  Morgan didn’t like the sound of that. Was he going to try to force Morgan to steal supplies? She’d get caught for sure. She was never the stealthy sort. But, maybe landing in jail for a petty crime would be a blessing.

  “What do we do now?” Liam asked.

  “Come.” Dmitri motioned for them to follow him.

 
Morgan and Liam stood, hands held together, and followed him out.

  “Won’t Sonya be mad if we stop?” Morgan asked.

  “It is good. We have big freezer.”

  Liam leaned to Morgan to whisper, “What does that mean?”

  “It means we have time.”

  Liam straightened and looked to Dmitri. “Did you find Marik?”

  Dmitri stopped. “Nyet, but you will soon. Tell him I have plan.”

  “What plan?” Morgan asked. “Does it involve us?”

  “You weld tomorrow.”

  “And?”

  Dmitri began walking again, terminating the conversation. If Morgan had to guess, it didn’t involve them nor would it benefit them.

  At the main house, Dmitri flagged a man from his station at the door. He spoke rapidly in Russian and shoved Morgan into the man. Her face slammed against his solid chest.

  “What was that for?” Morgan snapped, righting herself.

  Liam was quick to come to her aid, but Dmitri was quicker, stopping him with one arm across his gut. Liam bent over, wheezing.

  “Not you,” Dmitri said. “You come with me.”

  “What about me?” Morgan asked.

  “You go with him.”

  Morgan shook her head. “You can’t. We have to stick together.”

  “Sonya wants word,” Dmitri said.

  “With me?” Morgan asked.

  “No, with him.” He pointed to Liam. “She wants to . . . what do you say? Settle the score?”

  Before Morgan could argue, she was dragged away by the guard. He was not gentle, but she didn’t give him any options. She struggled and yelled the entire way until he finally tired of her and slammed her head against the nearest wall, turning her world to black.

  Chapter 17

  Piper didn’t know much; she was reminded of that daily. But sitting at the bar, pretending she wasn’t listening to the conversation behind her, enlightened her to the extent of her ignorance. And the fact that Van and Papa Bear opened up to Greer more than they had with her made her furious.

  She’d be the first to admit she still had a tinge of green behind her ears, but for God’s sake, she was twenty-two, not twelve. Greer was only three years older but much less verde tinted. Was that why Papa Bear and Van spoke to her as an equal? Did Piper just have to change shades to be taken seriously? If that was the case, maybe she should kiss as many men as Greer had, or maybe even top Van’s number . . . which she didn’t exactly know, but it had to be deep into the double digits. Triple digits?

  Piper gulped down her drink, trying not to wince at the burn.

  She was being silly, she knew. There were more important matters at hand, but she’d had enough.

  “You’re drinking that rather fast.”

  Piper studied the bartender. She had known Devon even before her dad had died. He had always been the smiling man serving her kiddie cocktails. Now, he wasn’t smiling but looking at her with worried eyes.

  “I’m drinking at the speed I wish to.” She gulped down the rest, willing her face to remain passive. She slid the glass to him. “Another.”

  “Piper, you shouldn’t —”

  “Were you just about to scold me?” she questioned.

  “No, it’s just —”

  “Another.”

  His lips pursed, but then he nodded. “Do you have a ride home tonight?”

  “Not going home. Greer and I are heading to Vegas.” Piper hadn’t actually had that conversation with Greer, but they were going no matter what.

  Devon looked past Piper and spotted Greer, his eyes lighting. Was he crushing on Greer too? For the love of God, they shared the same eyes and same hair, what made Piper so repulsive and Greer so loved? Maybe it was the age gap. If she had to guess, Devon was ten years older than she was, making him only seven years older than Greer. Whatever age he was, it didn’t seem to show.

  “Stop drooling and get me a drink.”

  Devon blinked and then stared at Piper as if she had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

  She sighed and flicked a speck off her old work shirt. Maybe it was her clothes. Greer always managed to look fashionable, while Piper was dressing more and more like Morgan. Service clothes were not attractive. She knew that, and yet she still wore them. After ruining nearly all of her clothes on her art, she finally conceded that Morgan was right.

  “Don’t mind me,” she muttered to Devon.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  She looked at Devon, wondering if he meant what he said or if he was just passing the time with hollow words. He seemed like he meant it. His eyes were no longer tracking Greer, but were on her. They might not be as bright as they had been moments ago, but they were sincere.

  “I think Morgan might be in trouble, but I’m having a hard time getting information from those two.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, pointing in the general direction of Van and Papa Bear. “I finally had to ask Greer to interrogate.”

  “Looks like she’s doing a good job.”

  “Yes.”

  Devon slid a full glass in front of Piper. “Yes, but . . .”

  She took a sip. “Why couldn’t they have just told me? Why did I have to get Greer involved?”

  “I think it might be your personality.”

  Her mouth swung open, mortified. “What’s wrong with my personality?”

  “Nothing. You’re just sweet.” He shrugged. “Innocent.”

  In all of her life, those words had never sounded so horrible. “So I’m supposed to be mean and jaded?”

  “Absolutely not. Never change who you are. I guess what I’m trying to say is that no one wants to hurt you. They’d rather wear soft gloves with you than upset you.”

  Is that what everyone thought of her? That she was sweet and therefore had no backbone or brains? If that was the case, it was time to change. She’d no longer be set aside. Piper would take what she wanted without apology, starting with Devon.

  Piper leaned over the bar, grasped the front of Devon’s shirt and pulled him forward. She planted a kiss on his surprised lips, allowing the moment to settle before backing away. That wasn’t too bad. She smiled prettily at his stunned reaction.

  “Put the drinks on my tab,” she said, scooting off the barstool. She smiled one last time and was about to head out when she ran smack into Van.

  He took her arm and marched her away from the bar. “What in the hell are you doing?”

  She shrugged him away. “Kissing Devon. I thought it was obvious.”

  “It was obvious. You can’t just go around kissing guys, especially Devon. You know he has a reputation. You’ll be labeled.”

  “Actually, I’m removing a label.” Piper walked around Van. “And maybe his reputation is exactly what I need. Greer and I have to go.”

  Van’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. She kind of liked seeing him flounder for a bit. Normally, it was her who got tongue-tied around him.

  “Greer,” Piper shouted, “I’m heading out.”

  Greer flashed a glance at Papa Bear before following Piper outside.

  “What was that about?” she asked. “I saw you kiss Devon, and then Van flew over as if he was going to punch him. Was he a good kisser? I’ve always wondered.”

  Piper barely remembered the kiss, so it couldn’t have been that good, not that she gave him much time to react. “I heard what Papa Bear and Van said. They gave me a similar story, but I think we have enough information to try to find Morgan and Liam. We just need to get to Vegas.”

  “And how are we going to do that?”

  “If we drive in shifts, we can be there in seven hours,” Piper said. “And with your lead foot, I’m sure we can shave off an hour.”

  “I hate to be the level-headed one, that’s normally Morgan’s job, but what about work? I can’t just take off unexpected days from the shelter. They need me.”

 
“You’re a volunteer with a family crisis. They’ll understand. You heard what Papa Bear said. Morgan is in over her head.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “So do I.”

  “No, I mean I have a bad feeling about us going. I think we’ll end up getting in the way and being more of a problem than help. Plus, you said Liam’s brother was looking for him. I’m sure he’s already landed in Vegas and is helping them as we speak.”

  Piper frowned. “You’ve obviously never met Trace. He seems nice, but he’s probably more focused on styling his hair.”

  “Interesting.”

  “No, not at all interesting. We have to get to Morgan before it’s too late.”

  Greer sighed. “You’re right. We’ll do what we can. But we have to stop at my place. I have to pack a bag.”

  “Promise me you won’t pack everything. We don’t have time for you to sort through your entire closet.”

  “I promise. We’ll be on the road in less than an hour, and I’ll make sure to make up for that time on my shift.”

  Piper hugged Greer, squeezing her until Greer finally begged her to let go.

  With Greer on her side, they’d help Morgan and Liam in no time. They didn’t have much to go on, but a few key pieces of information would point them in the right direction. They’d find the Ivankovs, probably with a simple web search, and they’d end whatever contract Morgan had with them. Crime family or not, Russian mob or not, whatever hold they had on Morgan was at an end.

  * * *

  Liam broke free from Dmitri’s stronghold. He had to find Morgan. The way the guard handled her had been brutal. He hoped she wasn’t injured, but his senses told him otherwise.

  Before Liam could prepare himself, Dmitri charged at him, knocking him to the ground.

  “We do this easy way or hard way,” Dmitri said.

  Liam glared.

  Dmitri smiled. “Hard way.” He kicked out, slamming the sole of his boot into Liam’s head, missing his eye by a fraction.

  Liam groaned, his arm shooting out to catch Dmitri’s leg before he could do further damage. Liam twisted, upsetting Dmitri’s balance. He rolled out of the way as Dmitri toppled to the marble floor. With an exchanged glare, they both jumped to their feet.