Page 29 of For Rage

Before Morgan, it had been years since he'd kissed a woman. He'd had a couple one-night stands since the divorce from Emma, but they were unsatisfying and often left him feeling dirty, so he'd eventually stopped bothering. Of course, he still craved the intimacy, but after having his heart thrown in the trash when Emma cheated on him, it was hard to feel that closeness again. He hadn't been lying to Morgan when he said he was out of the game, no longer looking. He'd die alone and loveless. He could handle that.

But when Morgan had kissed him, he'd felt something. The worry that she was using him, or just drunk and looking for someone, had caused him to push her away. Plus, they were partners. It couldn't happen. He'd never been kissed like that before, and it had only stoked the fire that had been smoldering between them for weeks, pushing him to pursue her. But he wouldn't.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the thoughts, but instead it all came rushing back. Maybe part of him had always had a crush on Morgan before she went to prison. She'd always been headstrong, smart as a whip, and above all, loyal. Loyal ...

Of course, she'd been loyal to the FBI too. She hadn't betrayed them. She shouldn't have ended up in prison.

Derik imagined all the nights she'd spent alone. How devastated she must have been to know her father died while she was behind bars, unable to even attend his funeral. It wasn't right.

Morgan was right ... he should have done more for her. He knew damn well she wasn't a betrayer. He should have kept fighting and never stopped. Instead, he'd fallen into his own routine. Got married. Got cheated on. Divorced. Became an alcoholic. Recovered from that, but the rest of him was still shattered. He buried himself in work most days and had little to no social life at all. And yet even then, Morgan had wanted to kiss him, even if it was drunk desperation.

He rolled onto his side, staring blankly at the wall now. It was too late to call her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Maybe it was just his guilt, still simmering from not doing more for her when she was in prison. Or maybe it was something else.

But he couldn't put his finger on it. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to be working. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on him, and he was exhausted, physically and mentally.

Eventually, he drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of the past and what could have been. In his dream, he was back in college, sitting next to Morgan in their criminology class. She was laughing at something he said, and he felt a rush of happiness.

But then the dream turned dark, and he was back in the present, standing over Steven's body, with Morgan nowhere to be found. Fear gripped him, and he woke up with a start, covered in sweat.

He sat up, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. It was just a dream. Nothing more. But the feeling of unease remained, and he couldn't shake it. Only thinking about Morgan again was able to calm him, but in a different way.

He knew it was wrong to feel that way about her. She was his partner, and he shouldn't let his emotions get in the way of their job. But as he lay there in the dark, he couldn't help but think back to the way her lips had felt against his. He couldn't shake the memory of her soft skin, her warmth, the way she had breathed as they kissed.

Suddenly, his phone beeped, startling him out of his thoughts. AD Mueller's name spread across the screen, and he answered it. It was nearly three a.m.—he had no idea why Mueller would be calling him at this hour, but it couldn't be good.

"This is Special Agent Greene," he said.

"Greene." Mueller sounded tired but not because it was so late. His voice was grim. "I need you and Cross down at HQ stat."

Derik held his breath, waiting for Mueller to clarify.

Finally, he said:

"The Maze Killer ... he's sent in another note."

***

Derik rushed into HQ, his mind on high-alert. He'd barely gotten an hour of sleep, and now, they were back to work. He'd have to get a coffee to carry him through the day, if it were even possible.

He burst into the computer lab to see AD Mueller standing over a computer with a few young tech interns, FBI emblazoned on the backs of their shirts. The cool blue from the computer monitor lit the room, and the team gave Derik a quick glance as he rushed up behind them.

"We still don't have a trace on the email," one of the techs explained to AD Mueller.

"What's going on?" Derik asked, reading the note on the screen.

"See for yourself," AD Mueller said, his voice stern.

Derik read the words in the email, his chest in knots.

"I don't like when you mess with my designs," it read. "As punishment, for our next trial, I won't tell you the location. Solve this riddle, and you'll find your next treat: LITTLE DOE."

"Little Doe?" Derik read out loud. "What the hell does that mean?"

"We think it's a riddle of some kind," one of the techs said. "But we don't know what it means yet."

Just then the door opened, and Morgan flew in, her hair tied back with tired lines on her face. She hobbled slightly due to her injury, but Derik wasn't surprised to see her on her feet. That woman was tenacious.

"What's going on?" She asked, her eyes scanning the room.

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