MO GRÁ | Derek Morgan

chapter eighteen

I tightened my grip on my steering wheel, as I drove through the snow-covered streets of Queens. The directions on my phone were simple, leading me to a house between two buildings that loomed over the street, casting long shadows in the dim light. I parked my car across the street on the curb, heart racing, and took a deep, shaky breath.

I stepped out of the car, snowflakes falling against my skin as I pulled my jacket tighter around me, an attempt to warm myself, or ease my anxiety. My hesitation clawed at me as I glanced down the empty street, a sinking feeling gnawing at my gut. Something was off, but I was desperate to put this behind me. Still, I couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether I ever truly could.

With each step toward the door, the silence of the bare, desolate streets pressed in on me. My heart thundered in my chest, and with trembling hands, I knocked three times, each echoing like a death knell. To my shock, the door creaked open without a sound. I hesitated, casting a wary glance over my shoulder, half-expecting someone to appear behind me. With a resigned sigh, I stepped inside, only to be met by an eerie emptiness.

"Killian?" I called, voice wavering, the silence wrapping around me like a shroud. I looked into the dimly lit room, taking in the sparse furnishings—the worn couch, a coffee table that looked like it would collapse at any moment, and a box TV in the corner, its screen dark and lifeless.

"Killian?" I called again, louder this time, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my fear. As I ventured further into the house, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Hello? Is anyone here?" My voice trembled, but I pressed on, trying to steady myself. "Why tell me to meet you here if you're just going to leave me hanging?" I muttered to myself, as I climbed the stairs, my hand instinctively resting on the grip of my gun tucked in the back of my jeans.

Two rooms were before me, one was empty, so I steeled myself and pushed through the second door. As I kicked it open, a gasp tore from my throat, my phone slipping from my grip and clattering to the floor.

Jason.

"Oh my god," I breathed, horror crashing over me as I saw his lifeless body sprawled on the ground. "Oh—no." I stumbled forward, falling to my knees, fingers searching for a pulse on his neck. Nothing. "Jason! Jason!" My voice cracked, panic rising in my throat.

Then came a creak behind me, and I spun around to find Killian leaning casually against the doorframe, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "W-what did you do?" I stammered, scrambling to my feet, dread clawing at my insides.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" he replied, tilting his head, stepping closer. I backed away instinctively, every instinct screaming at me to run. When I reached for my gun, he seemed to anticipate my move.

"Drop the gun," he commanded, his gaze piercing and predatory. My heart raced as he stalked toward me, and I turned to bolt for the door, but he caught me, shoving me against the wall, his arm pressing hard against my chest, pinning me in place.

"Please." I managed to choke out, voice trembling. His eyes roamed over my body, a sadistic gleam flickering in his gaze. "Just let me go." I felt his breath on my skin, cold and suffocating, as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I flinched at his touch, fighting the urge to recoil.

"I hope you didn't consider him a friend," he whispered, his tone laced with a sickening mockery of concern. "He gave you up as soon as I pulled the gun on him. Poor guy didn't even know you were already on your way." I held back a scoff, knowing it was true. Jason would sell anyone out to save his own skin, a brilliant agent but a pathetic friend.

Killian's eyes bore into mine as his free hand slid behind me, fingers creeping toward the waistband of my jeans, slipping beneath my shirt. My heart sank deeper with every passing second, dread unfurling in my chest.

"Are you frightened of me?" he taunted, pulling the gun from my jeans and shoving it into his waistband. I shook my head, but my mind raced with horrific possibilities. "I think you're lying," he said, leaning closer, his breath hot against my ear as I pressed against the wall, trapped. "Or you wouldn't be so horrified."

"Is this why you wanted me here?" I whispered, fear choking my words. "What's your plan? Kill me, then disappear again?" His twisted chuckle sent shivers down my spine.

"What's the fun in that?" he replied, leaving me swirling in confusion. If he didn't intend to kill me, what did he want? I fell silent as his gaze lingered before he reached back and pulled his gun from his waistband, blood staining his hands. I shut my eyes, inhaling sharply.

"Put your hands out," he ordered, and I complied, trembling as I extended my hands in front of me. Slowly, I opened my eyes as he placed the gun in my palms, a twisted grin spreading across his face. He leaned in, forcing me to turn my head so our faces didn't touch, his forehead pressing against mine, lips brushing my ear through my hair. "Now you're just as deep in this as I am." My body clenched in panic, and I refused to look at him, mind racing with the implications. If this was the murder weapon, then my fingerprints were on it, sealing my fate.

He pulled back, yanking my arm and forcing me to follow him. "Come on," he whispered, and I stumbled after him, casting one last glance at Jason's motionless body. What would happen to him? How would his family find out?

We made our way down the stairs and toward the front door. "Where are we going?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach as he pushed me forward, shutting the door behind us. The snow continued to fall, it looked like it hadn't stopped.

"Take your car," he instructed, looking down the street as if weighing his options. "I'll tell you where we're going on the way." I rolled my eyes but complied, getting into the driver's seat as he settled in beside me. I pulled off the curb, driving aimlessly until he finally directed me.

"Turn left here," he said, and I did, heart pounding as I drove straight until he instructed.