Morrison (Caldwell Brothers #2)

“Hailey, I’m not gonna use you like that. You’re free, and you’re gonna get used to feeling that before I climb back in bed with you. It’s gonna take every bit of self-control I don’t have to stay away, but I’m going to give you this space.”


I don’t know what to say to him, so I ask the question that has been in the forefront of my mind since last night. “Why aren’t you coming home with us?”

“Giving you space, little momma. Get home to your girl. I’ll be there tomorrow. I have some shit to sort here, anyway.”

Cautiously, I make my way over to him, and when I am right in front of him, I look into his blue eyes, which seem to be covering up a slew of emotions.

“Is it safe for you to stay behind?”

“You worried?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Yes,” I whisper.

He looks over my head to the wall behind me as he contemplates my answer. “You don’t owe me, Hailey. Do you understand that? There is no obligation.”

“I know that, Morrison.” I blink back tears as all kinds of emotions fill me. “I don’t…I don’t…what…how…? I don’t want anything to happen to you.” I sigh, unable to get the words out right.

He simply looks at me, trying to read me.

“Morrison, I don’t know if I could’ve done any of this without you.”

He wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him, not saying a word as we just live in this embrace.

“I’m gonna give you space, little momma, but I’m never far away.” He leans back to reach up and tip my chin to him, then brushes his lips against mine. “I’ve always got your back. You need a little room, but I’m still here. I just gotta give you time for you to make some choices for yourself.”

He’s always got my back.

Choices. I have choices, and he’s letting me make them. This all feels good…too good.





Chapter 15


Morrison


It was tough putting them in a cab and saying goodbye. I made Hendrix promise to text when they were boarding the plane. When he did, I was throwing a few things in my suitcase, getting ready to head out myself. But first, I had Wheels and my attorney stopping over.

Needless to say, Wheels was stoked when he saw the place, while my lawyer told me I was an idiot, that no ass was worth this. So, I told him like it is.

I came here to find a new life, strike gold, and become a better man than my father. I was leaving for a new life, a much better man than that fuck. I got what I came for, and now it is time to go home. Hell, Detroit is different now. There is good there. Fuck gold! I have platinum.

Wheels extended an open invitation and even told me that after sleeping on it he didn’t feel right about this whole thing. I told him to shut the hell up and be happy. The kid smiled and nodded, and then we settled up everything we could. Whatever else needs to be done can be done through the mail.

He’s okay with me leaving Hailey’s car till I can get it back to Detroit. I was gonna let her decide if she even wanted the thing back, but I may just have him pawn the title and walk. That way, she’ll have some cash toward one that is suitable for Ris Priss to ride in. Besides, the kid looked good in the Escalade, and she should always ride in style like that.

When everything is finished up, I decide to take one last spin down the Strip. I want to catch a glimpse, get photos in my head of the places where I fucked around as Aces. I was acting a part then that I know now I never really was. It ain’t all bad, though. Actually, it feels damn good.

I stop at a light by Caesars and look in my mirror to see a truck with blacked-out windows, and the fucker is so close I can almost smell his breath. Next light, same shit.

It’s getting under my skin a bit when I hang a right to head out of town and Shitbag is still there.

Letting my temper get the best of me, I hit the gas, and then the light ahead turns red. I stop on a dime and look in my mirror. The fucker is there again—and he ain’t slowing down. I look at the light, still red, and then at the cars coming through the light in both directions. I have nowhere to go.

I brace myself right before the collision of metal, the fucker still spinning his tires and literally climbing up my ass. I smash the brakes to the ground, realizing whoever it is, they are pushing me into the intersection. The only thing I can do is hang fucking tight.

When I hear the rear window smash, I know the crazy fucker isn’t gonna stop, so I open the door to get the fuck out. As I do, the driver’s side to the truck opens, and who is it?

Monte fucking Timmons, holding a tire iron in his hand.

While he comes toward me, I notice a patrol car in the parking lot of the Quickie Mart on the corner.

“You fucking kidding me, man?” I yell at him.

“I decided you don’t get my kid! She owes me.”

“The kid doesn’t owe you jack!” I jump back as he swings the tire iron on me. “That all you got? My old man swung harder than that.”

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