For Once, page 2
Everyone must be further inside, she rationalized, though her gut screamed at her to turn back and leave this place. But the lure of the exclusive photos, the potential boost to her online presence, kept her feet firmly planted on the cold concrete floor.
She took a deep breath and pushing deeper into the shadowy world of preserved creatures and unspoken secrets. Little did she know how much her life was about to change.
"Hello?" Melissa called out hesitantly, her voice cracking slightly and echoing through the warehouse. She strained her ears for any response, but all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. "Is anyone here?" Her words lingered in the air, unanswered. A trickle of sweat slid down her spine as she started to question her presence in the warehouse. Did she misinterpret the email? Maybe she wasn't supposed to be here so late. But then again, the door had been open... Was she inadvertently breaking and entering? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, causing her grip on her camera to tighten.
She tried to shake off the unease that crawled under her skin. After a moment of deliberation, she reasoned that since she was already inside and no one else seemed to be there, she might as well make the most of it. Besides, her followers were bound to love the exclusive photos.
"Alright, you gorgeous, creepy creatures," she said softly, raising her camera and peering through the viewfinder. "Let's give my followers something they'll never forget."
As she moved through the dimly lit space, Melissa captured shots of towering bears with menacing snarls and exotic birds with iridescent feathers that shimmered beneath the weak light. Each photograph felt like a triumph, an opportunity she wouldn't normally have access to, and her excitement began to rise.
Wow, this is going to blow their minds, she thought, clicking away at the unique taxidermy displays that surrounded her. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, momentarily pushing her doubts and fears aside. This was her chance to shine as an influencer and show the world her creative vision.
Melissa paused for a moment, lowering her camera and scanning the warehouse once more. Maybe I just got lucky tonight, she mused, her heart pounding in her chest as she resumed her photographic exploration. Little did she know that her luck was about to take a dramatic turn for the worse.
As Melissa continued to capture the eerie beauty of the taxidermy displays, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step, and the shadows cast by the dim lighting appeared to dance menacingly on the walls.
Focus, Melissa. You're just spooking yourself, she thought, attempting to steady her trembling hands as she snapped another photo.
Suddenly, the faint sound of scuffling feet caught her attention. Her heart thudded in her chest as she spun around, searching for the source of the noise. But there was no one there—only the motionless forms of the taxidermy animals.
"Hello?" she called out again, her voice wavering. "Is someone there?"
The warehouse remained silent, save for the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. Melissa's breath hitched in her throat as her anxiety intensified, the thrill of her exclusive photo opportunity quickly morphing into a sense of dread.
"Enough," she muttered to herself, forcing her legs to move. She needed to get out of there now. As she hurried through the aisles, the once fascinating taxidermy creatures now seemed to leer at her, the lifeless eyes following her every movement.
Almost there, almost there, she repeated in her mind, her eyes locked on the exit.
But just as she was about to reach the door, a strong hand grabbed her from behind, spinning her around with terrifying force. Melissa gasped as she stared into the wild eyes of a crazed man, his grip like iron around her arms.
"Ah, my beautiful little butterfly," he murmured, his breath hot against her face. "I've been waiting for you."
"Let me go!" Melissa screamed, struggling in vain against the man's grasp. Fear coursed through her veins as she realized the true danger she was in.
What had started as a seemingly lucky opportunity had become her worst nightmare.
CHAPTER ONE
Morgan Cross stepped cautiously into the dimly lit alleyway, her heart pounding in her chest, each thud echoing through her body like rolling thunder. The drizzle sent shivers down her spine, but it was the thought of facing Thomas Grady that truly chilled her to the bone.
She'd once trusted him, believed they were part of the same team within the FBI. Yet now, he revealed himself to be nothing more than a common criminal, responsible for stealing away her precious Pitbull, Skunk.
"Damn you, Thomas," she muttered under her breath, her dark hair sticking to her face from the dampness of the night. As she moved further into the narrow passage, she realized with growing dread that this place held another secret—one she had buried deep within herself.
With each step, the memory took shape, materialized before her eyes. She saw Darren La Roux, the ex-convict who had tried to kill her, his lifeless form crumpled on the ground. It was there, in that very alley, where Morgan had fought back against her would-be killer. The shove she gave him wasn't meant to be fatal, but when Darren's head struck the corner of the dumpster with a sickening crack, she knew there was no coming back for him. Morgan had kept the incident a secret, hiding her involvement from everyone around her. But now, it seemed Thomas had somehow unearthed one of her darkest moments.
And yet she was still out, free. Thomas hadn't reported it. Why? What was his angle?
Morgan would always regret involving him. She'd asked him to help her find the names of the man who'd framed her for murder ten years ago, causing her to spend ten long, cold years in prison. Ever since she'd been set free and re-joined the FBI, her name cleared, she felt like someone was still after her... still trying to get her. The elusive men remained nameless, but Thomas wasn't a stranger, not anymore. He had kidnapped her dog, forcing her to play his sick and twisted game, and for whatever reason, this was the first location he'd sent her to.
She clenched her fists. The tattoos on her arms seemed to come alive in the faint glow of the nearby streetlights, a constant reminder of her time in prison and a life she fought so hard to leave behind. She couldn't shake the feeling that Thomas was testing her, pushing her to the edge, but for what purpose?
"Thomas, you bastard. What do you want from me?" Morgan's voice trembled as she glanced around the alley, half-expecting him to appear from the shadows.
As she stood there, the rain continued to fall, soaking her to the bone. Her thoughts raced, her mind a whirlwind of anger, confusion, and fear. Why had Thomas brought her here? Was he trying to expose her or manipulate her further? And most importantly, where was her beloved Skunk? The thought of her loyal companion in danger fueled her determination, steeling her resolve.
She knew she had no choice but to confront Thomas, to face the man who had betrayed her trust and held the key to her past. And as she took a deep breath and prepared to step out of the shadows, Morgan vowed that whatever Thomas wanted to play, she would not be an easy pawn to move.
Morgan pulled out her phone, her fingers shaky as they dialed Thomas's number. The phone rang once, twice, before he finally answered.
"Where's Skunk, Thomas? What the hell is this about?" Morgan demanded, her voice cracking with a mix of anger and desperation.
Thomas laughed, a cold and unnerving sound that sent shivers down her spine. "This first location was just a test, Morgan. I wanted you to see that I'm on your side. I know what you did, and I never told anyone. 'They' wanted me to give you up, but I'm not going to. You see, I want you all to myself."
"Who are 'they'? What do you want from me?" Morgan clenched her fists, knuckles turning white. "You're a sick bastard. I can't trust anything you say."
"Stand by and wait for my next location," Thomas replied cryptically. "Just remember, if you involve Derik or the FBI in this, things won't end well for you or Skunk. This is between you and me now." He paused for a moment before adding, "You should have just gone on that date with me, Morgan."
The line went dead. Morgan stared at the phone for a moment. If Thomas wanted to get her alone, why not just come out and say it? Why all the cryptic hints and double meanings? But whatever his angle was—whatever he was planning—Morgan knew she couldn't go to the authorities. Not yet.
Then realization struck her with the force of a freight train.
"Skunk," she whispered into the darkness. "Oh god, what if he's already..."
She looked around the alley, but there was nothing there. He could be anywhere. She trembled in the rain, her mind racing, wondering if she could even go through with this. He's already taken my dog. What is he going to do to me?
Morgan raised her face to the sky, letting the rain pelt against her skin, washing away some of the frustration and anger. She didn't know what Thomas's motives were... But if he wanted to get to her... if he wanted to push her to the brink... then she would go there. She would go all the way. She had nothing to lose.
Her fist clenched in determination. I'll do whatever it takes to find Skunk. I'll go to hell and back if I have to.
With Skunk's life hanging in the balance, she had no choice but to play along, at least for now. "I swear, Thomas," she whispered into the rain-soaked night, "if you hurt Skunk, I'll kill you and go back to prison happily."
She turned and walked away from the alley, her mind racing as she tried to figure out her next move. Whatever Thomas had planned, Morgan knew she would need every ounce of strength and cunning to outwit him and save her beloved Skunk.
***
Morgan's key turned in the lock, and she stepped inside her home, the emptiness hitting her like a punch to the gut. She'd grown so accustomed to Skunk's excited barks and wagging tail greeting her at the door, and now, without him there, the silence was deafening. The weight of loneliness pressed down on her shoulders, reminding her of the cold isolation she'd endured during her decade behind bars.
"Skunk," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She closed her eyes, picturing his soft brown fur and the way he would nuzzle up against her when she was sad or upset. He was more than just a loyal companion; he was the one constant in her life, the one thing she could always depend on. And now, because of Thomas, he was gone.
Morgan sank down onto her couch, her laptop resting on the coffee table before her. Her mind raced with questions about Thomas and his motives, but she knew that answers wouldn't come easily. She opened the laptop, her fingers flying over the keys as she logged into the FBI database. She had gone through Thomas Grady's file countless times before, but with each new revelation, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd missed something vital.
As she scrolled through the information, her thoughts kept circling back to Thomas and his warning. How could she not involve Derik or the FBI when her own dog's life was on the line? But the fear of what Thomas might do to Skunk if she didn't follow his instructions left her feeling trapped, cornered like a wounded animal.
Her finger hovered over the touchpad, scrolling through pages of reports and redacted documents. She longed for a breakthrough, a single clue that would unravel the mystery that was Thomas Grady. But with each passing moment, she felt more and more like she was grasping at straws.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied the screen, the words on the screen starting to blur together. The late hour and her exhaustion were taking their toll, but she couldn't afford to rest. Not when Skunk's life hung in the balance.
Morgan's eyes lingered on the scant details of Thomas's life before his time at the FBI. Born and raised in Dallas, it was as if he vanished from existence for several years before reappearing to join the Bureau. The redacted documents taunted her, concealing the secrets she so desperately sought.
She considered reaching out to Mueller, but the thought was quickly dismissed; she couldn't risk involving anyone else, let alone someone like Assistant Director Mueller, who she definitively didn't trust. Her mind wandered to Derik Greene, her partner who had betrayed her after the men who'd framed her had blackmailed him. They had threatened his estranged son in order to get Derik to lead Morgan into a trap, but he'd gone against it. Derik had been trying to earn back Morgan's trust, but she knew things between them were forever changed after how much he lied to her and hid from her. Despite knowing that he knew as little about their enemies as she did, she couldn't bring herself to trust him completely. Not with Skunk's life hanging by a thread.
She couldn't trust anyone.
The weight of her situation bore down on her, suffocating her like a vice. She felt utterly alone, every ounce of hope slipping through her fingers like sand. Desperate for some semblance of relief, Morgan rose from the couch and crossed the room to her liquor cabinet. The clink of glass against glass echoed through the empty house as she selected a bottle of whiskey.
"Here's to you, Skunk," she said, pouring a generous measure into a tumbler. "I'll get you back, no matter what it takes."
The golden liquid warmed her throat and chased away the cold tendrils of fear that had wound themselves around her heart. She took another sip, the fire in her belly urging her to keep searching, to find the truth hidden beneath layers of lies and obfuscation.
As she returned to her laptop, her mind raced with possibilities, each more sinister than the last. But with every click and scroll, she drew closer to the truth that would bring her one step closer to saving Skunk and unraveling the web of deceit that had ensnared them all.
Morgan stared at her laptop screen, the words blurring together as her vision grew hazy and unfocused. The whiskey coursed through her veins, dulling her sharp mind and weighing down her eyelids. She blinked heavily, trying to clear her thoughts.
Her head fell back against the couch, the soft cushion cradling her skull as she drifted into a restless sleep, Skunk's absence a gnawing emptiness in her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
The first thing Morgan noticed as she slowly stirred back to consciousness was the familiar weight on her chest – the comforting presence of Skunk. Her eyes snapped open, disbelief and relief warring within her as she stared down at her precious Pitbull, nestled against her like nothing had ever happened.
"Skunk?" she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Is it really you?"
The dog raised his head, his dark eyes meeting hers with unwavering loyalty and affection. A sob caught in Morgan's throat as she pulled him into a fierce embrace, her hand burying into his soft fur.
"How did you...?" she started to ask, but the sound of glass clinking in the kitchen stopped her mid-sentence.
Morgan's instincts kicked in instantly, propelling her to her feet and leaving Skunk behind on the couch. Her heart hammered in her chest as she crossed the living room, each step silent and deliberate. The ominous sound repeated itself, and she could feel her pulse quicken with anticipation.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear that coiled in her stomach. "Show yourself!"
Creeping into the kitchen, gun drawn, Morgan's eyes darted around for any sign of danger. The clinking sound came again, and she spotted Thomas with his back facing her, pouring himself a drink. Her stomach churned with anger and nerves.
"Freeze!" she ordered, her voice steady, even as adrenaline coursed through her veins.
Thomas turned to face her, his handsome features twisting into a cruel grin. But before she could react, his appearance morphed before her very eyes. Suddenly, it was her father standing there, wearing an FBI uniform she had never seen him in during his lifetime.
"Da...Dad?" Morgan stammered, her grip on the gun faltering. All logic screamed that this couldn't be real, but the sight of him shook her to her core.
"Surprised to see me?" he asked, his voice cold and unfamiliar.
Morgan's mind raced with a million questions, but she could barely form words. She lowered her gun, taking a shaky step forward. "How are you here?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her father's expression remained unreadable as he took a step closer. "It's complicated," he said cryptically. "But I need your help."
Morgan's head spun, trying to process what was happening. She had always dreamed of seeing her father again, but this felt like a sick joke. "What kind of help?"
Her father's eyes flicked to the gun in her hand. "I need you to put that away for a start," he said, nodding towards the weapon.
Morgan hesitated before reluctantly placing the gun on the counter. "What do you need from me?" she asked again, the apprehension in her voice palpable.
"I need you to wake up, Morgan."
"What?"
"I said wake up!"
Without warning, he raised a gun and fired.
Morgan jolted awake, still sitting on her couch in the dimly lit living room. Morning light filtered in through the blinds, casting hazy shadows across the floor. Her heart raced, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her composure. A dream. It was only a dream.
Her phone buzzed madly on the coffee table, its vibrations echoing through the otherwise quiet room. But as she stared at it, her mind reeled from the nightmare that had just unfolded. She'd seen Thomas – the man who had betrayed her, kidnapped Skunk, and toyed with her for reasons she couldn't understand – only for him to transform into her deceased father. Her father had died just before she'd gotten out of prison, but recently, the men who'd framed her had left Derik with a photograph of her father... with a team from the FBI. Morgan had never known her dad to be in the FBI, and she was unsure if they were toying with her, but the photo seemed real. Morgan was starting to realize that she maybe never knew her father as well as she'd thought.
_preview.jpg)
