Page 5 of For Us

"There's a new killer targeting women in Dallas, and Derik Greene is working the case. He needs his partner."

Morgan's grip tightened on the phone as she processed the information. Her heart raced with a mix of anger and fear, the thought of another killer on the loose sending shivers down her spine. She glanced at Skunk, who had picked up on her anxiety and was now watching her intently from the doorway.

"Derik can handle himself," she muttered, her voice tight with frustration. "He doesn't need me there holding his hand."

"Of course not," Irvin agreed, though the concern in his voice betrayed his true thoughts. "But it's always better when the two of you work together. You both have unique skills that complement each other, and we need that expertise now more than ever. If you can't make it, I understand. But I'm worried about this killer, Morgan. We all are."

The weight of responsibility settled heavily on her shoulders. She knew that turning away wouldn't change the fact that lives were at risk, and the thought of doing nothing while innocent people suffered made her sick to her stomach. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Morgan steeled her resolve.

"Thank you for the offer, sir," she said, her voice firm. "I'll consider it and let you know."

"Take your time, Morgan," Irvin replied, understanding in his tone. "Just remember that every second counts."

The call ended with a click, leaving Morgan alone with her thoughts and the ghostly whispers of the wind. As she stood there, torn between duty and self-preservation, the memories of her father's cabin seemed to press in around her, both comforting and suffocating all at once.

Of course, she couldn't just ignore a case, not when lives were at stake. But leaving the comfort and safety of her father's cabin felt like abandoning a piece of herself, a chance to uncover long-buried secrets and heal old wounds.

"Come on, Skunk," she called out to her loyal Pitbull, who was sniffing around the yard. "We need to go."

With a whine, Skunk trotted over, his tail drooping in disappointment. Morgan ruffled his fur affectionately before heading back inside to pack their belongings.

***

The car tore through the forest, kicking up dust and gravel as it sped down the winding path. Skunk sat in the passenger seat next to Morgan, his head hanging low as he whined softly. He could sense her turmoil, the inner battle between duty and personal desire that was tearing her apart.

"Hey, buddy," Morgan said soothingly, reaching over to scratch him behind the ears. "I know, I wish we didn't have to leave so soon either. But we'll come back, I promise."

Skunk licked her hand in response, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. Morgan smiled sadly as she continued to drive, her grip on the steering wheel tight as she tried to steady her racing thoughts.

Her father's face swam in her mind, his smile warm, and his eyes filled with love. The cabin held so many memories, so much laughter and joy, but also an undercurrent of sadness, of things left unsaid and secrets still buried deep. And yet, despite everything, she knew she had to put those feelings aside for now – there were people counting on her, and she couldn't let them down.

"Sometimes, Skunk," she continued, her voice soft and weary, "I wonder if I'm really cut out for this job. If maybe I'm just chasing after something I can never truly have."

Skunk whined again, nuzzling his head against her arm in silent sympathy. Morgan smiled, grateful for the support and love of her faithful companion. At least she could always trust her dog.

The forest began to thin as Morgan sped down the winding road, her grip on the steering wheel tight. Skunk, sensing her tension, let out a soft whine from the passenger seat.

In the rearview mirror, the dense trees grew smaller and smaller until they were nothing but a faint blur. Although she hadn't seen anyone near the cabin, a nagging feeling clung to her like a stubborn shadow – the sensation that they hadn't truly been alone.

Damn FBI.It was infuriating how they could just swoop in and disrupt her plans, yanking her away from the solitude she craved. Yet, deep down, she couldn't deny the relief that washed over her as well. The cabin, with its ghosts of the past and memories that clawed at her heart, had become an almost unbearable weight.

Morgan took a deep breath, trying to push aside the conflicting emotions churning within her. She had a job to do, people who needed her help. And maybe, just maybe, throwing herself into work was exactly what she needed to keep the shadows of the past at bay.

Morgan's knuckles turned white as she clenched the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the road, but her mind was elsewhere. A vivid memory of her father surfaced, unbidden - the two of them sitting on the porch of the cabin, fishing rods in hand, laughter filling the air as they reeled in their catch.

"Always be patient, Morgan,"her father had said, his voice echoing in her mind like a ghostly whisper."The best things in life are worth waiting for."

How could he have hid something so major from her? If he really was in the FBI... how could he not tell her? Morgan wondered if she had the right to feel betrayed. Her father was dead now. There were no apologies to be had, no conversations of reconciliation.

A sudden jolt of panic shot through her as she realized she'd been lost in the memory, her focus drifting dangerously from the road. She jerked back to attention just in time to swerve around a curve, narrowly avoiding a collision with the guardrail.

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She could feel the sweat forming at her temples, the lingering fear from the near-accident sending tremors down her spine.

"Sorry, Skunk," she murmured, reaching over to give the dog a reassuring pat. "I promise I'll get you home safe, buddy. Just need to clear my head first."

But even as she tried to refocus on the task at hand, she couldn't shake the feeling that her father's memory was trying to tell her something, guiding her from beyond the grave.

CHAPTER THREE

---