by Holly Rayner
She walked out into the sunlight as one of her former colleagues stated Miranda rights to the man now pinned against the ground, handcuffed.
As they loaded him into a cop car and drove away, the small crowd began to disperse, and Morgan’s old Sergeant approached her. Together, they watched the cop car wail out of sight.
“That was good work you did there, Morgan,” Sergeant Brown said, still staring in the direction of the police car.
“Thanks. And thanks for tracking my phone,” Morgan replied, not meeting his gaze either. “How many were found?”
“Twelve girls, packed into a white truck, all of ‘em scared to death. It’s scum like that that make me want to retire.”
“Then how would those girls have been saved?” Morgan asked, finally casting a glance at her former boss.
The man looked back at her. “There was another discovery, by the truck, that you might be interested to hear about,” he said slowly. “Your old partner, Brett. Turns out he was the one making deals to line his pockets.”
Morgan nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised. As much as he pretended to care about justice, what he really cared about was a new watch, a second home, or a fancy new car.”
The Sergeant sighed. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I should have listened to you. Now I’m out two officers—one of which was the best I’ve ever had. Say, would you consider coming back, now that he’s out of the way?”
Morgan thought about it. There was appeal to being an officer of the law. She would have so much more support than she’d had on her own. For this case she had known that working with the police was the best option to really bring those monsters down, and she had been right. Still, on her own she had freedom. Her thoughts drifted to Hassan, as they often did. What would Hassan do?
“I can’t do it, sir. I’m sorry. But if you ever want to collaborate again, I’m always happy to work alongside you.”
The Sergeant nodded. “I figured as much. You take good care of yourself, Morgan. And, for what it’s worth, great work today.”
“And you,” Morgan said, turning and shaking her old boss’ hand before turning back toward home.
When she got there, she closed the door behind her and ran a hand across her eyes, allowing herself to feel the situation for the first time.
She had saved twelve girls. Twelve girls who would be all right—would be safe in the loving arms of their families.
Completely out of the blue, Morgan began to sob. She pressed her back against the door and slid to the ground as waves of emotion rushed over her, and she cried herself into exhaustion.
***
After some time, she rose, wiping her swollen face as she changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She’d been craving ice cream for a week now, which was also strange. Morgan had never been a big ice cream fan, but it seemed to be all she wanted to eat these days, and she turned on a movie as she enjoyed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. A knock at her door had her setting down her spoon and rising to see who it was.
When she opened the door a crack, Stephen’s tanned face was peeking in at her.
“Hi, beautiful!” he said, and Morgan bit back a sigh as she closed the door and unhitched the chain, opening it fully.
“Hi, Stephen. What can I do for you?”
Stephen held up a Styrofoam container. “I’ve got lots of Chinese food and no one to share it with. Care to join?”
Morgan took a look at the container. Truthfully, she’d developed a craving for Chinese after smelling it at the restaurant earlier.
She grinned at Stephen and stepped aside to let him in, and he walked past her toward the couch, plopping down and opening the container.
“Can you grab us some forks? I don’t know where you keep them,” he said.
Morgan repressed a sigh. She’d had a terribly eventful day, her emotions were going haywire, and all she wanted to do was enjoy some peace and quiet by herself.
Still, not wanting to be rude, she walked to the kitchen area of her tiny apartment and grabbed two forks, handing one to Stephen as she joined him on the couch. It did not escape her notice that he scooted a little closer to her as they shared long strands of shrimp lo mein noodles.
“What are you watching?” Stephen asked.
Morgan glanced at the TV. “Pride and Prejudice,” she replied. It had always been her go-to movie for relaxing. Something about the calm scenery, the epic love story between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett. So what if she’d been imagining Hassan as the rich Darcy and herself as Lizzy Bennett? That’s what daydreaming was for.
Stephen made a face. “Is there anything else we can watch? That’s such a chick movie.”
Morgan did sigh then, moving to change the movie out for something else, but Stephen reached out and grabbed her hand before it could touch the remote.
“Sorry. We can watch whatever you want, Morgan. I’m sure it’s been a rough day.”
“You could say that,” she agreed, moving her hand back.
Stephen held onto it, and her stomach twisted.
“Maybe I can help you relax,” he said, leaning in.
Morgan watched him as though in slow motion. Stephen’s head dipped down toward hers, his thin lips pressing against her mouth, moving up and down. His tongue tried to press her mouth open, but she kept it shut. Part of her tried to enjoy the embrace, but her stomach butterflies stayed firmly shut in their cocoons.
Nothing. No feeling. No heart racing. It was like kissing her brother.
When Stephen pulled away, he was smiling. “That was amazing,” he said, gazing down at her. Seeing the look on her face, his smile faded. “You didn’t like it?” he asked, his expression hurt.
Damnit.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it. You’re a great guy, Stephen. You’ve always been so fun to hang with, and I love all the free Chinese food,” she said with a wry grin, aiming to lessen the blow with some humor.
It didn’t work.
“Morgan, you’re an amazing woman. Any man would be lucky to have you, but none of them would treat you as good as I would. I can make your life heaven. I can support you and give you everything that you need.”
“And what do I need?” Morgan asked, her temper flaring. Who was this guy that he thought he could just barge in and tell her what was best for her?
Stephen sat back. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, I can give it to you!” he said, still grasping onto her hands.
Morgan gently pried them away, placing hers on top of his. “No, Stephen. You can’t,” she said, her tone final.
Stephen frowned. “Come on, Morgan. Just let me in. You don’t want to die alone, do you?”
“Better alone than with the wrong man,” she said.
Stephen’s looked devastated at that statement, but if he wasn’t going to get the hints she’d been sending all this time, brutal honesty would have to do the trick.
Stephen rose then and headed toward the door. Morgan followed him.
“Do you want your Chinese?” she asked, lamely.
Stephen opened the door and stepped out. “Keep it, Morgan. Keep all of it. I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said before heading down the hall and back to his own apartment.
Morgan closed the door and locked it again, turning toward her cold Chinese food and Mr. Darcy. A strange sense of relief washed over her as she sat back down and watched her movie in peace.
At least Stephen would get some closure now. That was far more than she would ever get, from the one man who continued to haunt her dreams.
TWELVE
Hassan cradled Morgan’s face in his calloused hand, gazing adoringly into her eyes.
“I love you, you know,” he said, dipping his head down to kiss her. Morgan met him in his kiss, stoking the passion they had ignited that night on the rocks, under the stars.
She pulled him onto her bed as Hassan rolled above her, tearing at her clothing. She was ready to make love to him again when a terribly obnoxious beep start
ed sounding from far away.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted.
“Leave me alone!”
Morgan sat upright in her bed. She’d been dreaming about Hassan every night since she left. Taking a steadying breath, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, trying to eliminate the images her mind had conjured up, again.
For the thousandth time she told herself to get over it, not to dwell on the past. Hassan wasn’t in a place to settle down, and he certainly wouldn’t want to join her back in Houston. That was also assuming they would even work out as a couple. Morgan barely knew the man, after all.
Morgan took a shower, allowing the hot water to relax her tense muscles as she cleaned up for the day. It was always nice to take a break after a big success, but Morgan was easily bored. Still, the money Hassan’s parents had given her was still making itself useful, and she planned to use some of it to get an upgrade on her coffee that morning.
Dressing in jeans and a simple white blouse, she strolled across the street to a local coffee shop, her planner in hand. It would be a good morning to organize her life a bit and make sure that she could pencil in some jobs before the end of the month.
The barista smiled at her as she entered, a young blonde with big blue eyes and a bright smile.
“Hi Morgan!” she chirped.
Morgan grinned. “Hi, Michelle,” she replied, ordering her usual drink and leaving a few bucks in the tip jar.
Taking a seat by the window, she took a few sips of her hot beverage, relaxing into her chair as she watched people rushing by. Busy people, speeding their way to jobs they probably hated, just like she used to.
Morgan placed her planner on the table and began looking at her past jobs, writing in check marks for those she had completed. As she was scanning the page, she realized something was missing.
The little dot she used to track her cycle. Why wasn’t it on the page?
Morgan’s stomach dropped as she flipped through week after week, realizing that her period hadn’t come in far too long.
Oh, God.
Leaving her coffee on the table, she tossed her planner back in her purse and ran to the nearest convenience store, buying three pregnancy tests and rushing back home. She used all three boxes, which each contained two tests, and all six of them told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear.
Morgan was pregnant.
She sat on her bed with her head pressed against her knees, trying to breathe. What was she going to do now? She’d thought they’d been careful, but obviously they hadn’t been careful enough. Replaying the night in her mind, she realized just how careless they had been, lost in the splendor of night, the desert, and the stars.
