Mo Grá| Derek Morgan

chapter seventeen

As I stepped into my apartment, I set my bag down by the door and took a moment to look around at the chaos that had built up over the past few weeks. Papers were threw across the coffee table—case files and notes that had been there for days. Dishes piled up in the sink seemed to multiply by the day. With a sigh, I slipped off my jacket and moved toward the kitchen. Cooking had always been a therapeutic escape for me. Tonight, I decided to make up a simple pasta dish, one I had perfected during those late-night study sessions in college. As I chopped garlic and onions, my phone buzzed on the counter. I wiped my hands on a towel and picked it up, a soft smile spreading across my face when I saw Derek's name flash on the screen.

Derek: Hey, wanted to let you know I'll be over in a few!

I chuckled quietly. Our relationship had been rocky lately, but I was determined to mend it—starting with my communication skills.

Leah: Sounds great! Just cooking some pasta!

With that, I returned to my food. The smell of sautéed garlic filled the air. I set the table for two, arranging plates and glasses. Five minutes slipped by as I tidied up the clutter around my apartment, tossing out trash and organizing the mess. I returned to the stove, stirring the pot and letting the pasta simmer while I prepared some bread to toast. Just as I began loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, a knock echoed through my apartment.

Expecting it to be Derek, I didn't bother to check the peephole. I opened the door with a smile, but that smile faded as the figure before me came into focus. Killian stood in the doorway—tall, imposing, with an unyielding gaze that sent a chill down my spine. "Leah," he said, his voice low.

"What are you doing here?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I came to talk," he replied, pushing his way past me into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. I stood frozen, staring at the door as I took a deep breath. I could feel him hovering just behind me, and I closed the door, locking it. "Didn't you say on the phone you'd send me the address?" I asked, glancing toward the kitchen, where my phone lay out of reach.

"I changed my mind," he said simply. I felt vulnerable, exposed in my own home. "You know they're looking for you."

"I know," he replied, his voice low and steady. "That's why I came. I need your help, Leah."

"Help?" I scoffed, trying to mask the tremor in my voice. "You expect me to help you after everything? You're delusional."

"You're either with me or against me. I'm giving you a choice."

"Is that a threat?" I asked, watching as Killian's eyes darkened. Just then, the sound of another knock broke the tension. "Shit," I muttered under my breath, panic surging through me.

"Leah! Hey, it's me, Derek?"

"Just a second!" I shouted, my mind racing. "Go!" I hissed at Killian, my voice trembling as I pointed toward the fire exit. "You have to go, Killian."

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes locked on mine as if trying to decipher my thoughts. Once he seemed to reach a decision, he moved toward the window, slowly opening it. "I'll be back later," he said, slipping out into the night.

Once he was gone, I hurried to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open to reveal Derek, who stood outside with a concerned expression on his face. "Hey, who were you talking to?" he asked.

I stepped in front of him. "Uh, just... some noise from the TV. I was watching a movie."

Derek's brow furrowed as he stepped closer, trying to peer around me. "Leah, are you okay? You look—"