A single bullet // M.C ✔️

84

Palms were sweaty as I gripped the edge of the table, leaning over it and sighing. I rested my elbows firmly on the wood, knowing that an hour until Morgan's arrival would transform my world. My dress clung to my body, evoking a sense of familiarity with my appearance whenever I saw him. Usually, it flowed and felt free, but now it felt right and restrictive against my skin. Why were we doing this?

None of the boys knew the full extent of this in detail, knowing they would risk breaking down the door and dragging Michael out of the building themselves to save him, or even worse, shoot Morgan. I lazily tilted my head to the side, catching Michael's appearance—smart but casual.

A loose-fitting black button-up shirt and some loose trousers—simple yet effective. After all, he was spilling a story about Noah.

"You ready for this?" I asked, receiving a single nod in reply as I reached and grabbed at my phone. The cool screen felt nice under my fingertips—something I desperately needed. "It'll all be okay, baby. Remember the story?" I asked again, receiving another nod. I couldn't trust my voice to stay strong and not break. Alex was going to be spoken to another day; I couldn't cope with them both here.

Hands gently grasped my waist, avoiding my stomach, and pulled me to my feet. I wiped my hands against the smooth fabric of the dress, spinning to face Michael. We had spoken again into the early hours of the morning, discussing how we could achieve a state of complete well-being. One of the key points was to refrain from touching my stomach. I had no idea how much this affected me. The mere thought of someone else's hands touching my delicate skin caused bile to form and an unsettling sensation to rise within me, even if it was Michael.

"I understand you don't want to do this, my dear, but we absolutely must," another point elaborated upon in greater detail. Please refrain from calling me baby. The mere utterance of that single word felt like a thousand stab wounds to my chest and stomach, triggering a panic I couldn't bear to endure. It wasn't something that could be indefinitely avoided, but while the pain is still so fresh, it was imperative that we steer clear of it. I simply couldn't cope with the situation.

"I understand," I forced a small smile and looked up at him before standing on my tippy-toes and gently pressing my lips against his in a soft, feathery touch.

As the hour drew to a close, almost in true Morgan fashion, a soft knock echoed through the apartment.

"That'll be him," I pushed away from Michael's body, standing up from the sofa where we had found home. Michael paused the TV, glancing over me, silently sending questions my way: do I still want to do this? I didn't have a choice; I nodded, walking and opening the door, not really knowing how to greet him.

"None of that," he had watched me stand and stare, trying to figure out if I could go for a hug or not. I had dropped him out of my life. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me to his chest, glancing over at Michael over my shoulder.

"Okay, that's enough," my voice wavered as I pushed away, smiling softly, realising how much I missed him and how much my life was about to change. "You remember Michael, right?" I waved my hand in his direction, urging Morgan to step into the room more, letting me shut the door behind me, doing a sneaky glance to make sure no one was in the hallway and, more importantly, no noise was coming from Luke's place.

"Of course, I do," he said, extending his hand for a formal handshake with Michael. I let out a small laugh before coughing to cover it when Michael shot me a disapproving look. This was serious. "What's up anyway, Lil N?"

There was no hesitation as Michael took the seat next to me on the sofa, right where I had been moments ago. Morgan's eyes darted between our bodies, flickering with curiosity.

"Michael knows the leader of the 5SOS gang," I blurted out, mentally cursing myself for the slip-up.

"What?" Morgan muttered, leaning forward as if he hadn't heard me. He quickly composed himself and said, "Yeah, it's—"

"Me." It was as if a punch had been delivered to my gut, and I spun to face Michael.

"Mikey—," I couldn't believe it. Words refused to escape my lips as Morgan stood up, taking a single step towards Michael.

"So, you killed that old woman?"

"No, I would never hurt Margaret in my life. None of us would, Morgan," I insisted.

"Officer Morgan to you, did you know this, Nicky?"

"She didn't," I replied.

"Don't speak for me, Michael," I finally managed to say. "I did it, Morg. I knew it from the start. But it's not what you think." I was panicking, frantically trying to get Morgan to stop glaring at Michael and look at me.

"He killed your dad."

"He wasn't my dad," I said, seeing how Morgan's breathing slowed down. He bit the inside of his cheek softly.

"You know," he said.

"I do," I replied, not even feeling angry. Morgan seemed to understand exactly what I meant; it made perfect sense for him to know. Suddenly, a baby appeared when the mother was never pregnant.

"Did you know what he was doing?"

"I comprehend how he managed to get you," though it wasn't a straightforward answer, it provided me with all the necessary information. Michael awkwardly stood to the side, a few steps away from me, while Morgan gave us the time we needed. Family secrets were being unveiled.

"Do you know about Noah?" I asked, hoping for a response. He didn't answer, but I could sense that he knew. "Did he tell you what he did to me?" I wondered, unsure if they still spoke or if they had drifted apart. I also didn't know how much Morgan knew about Dad's work. Did he draw the line at basically kidnapping me at a young age and taking me away from my real family? Or was he more involved and knew more about Dad's activities? Now that I think about it, it was rare for Unbroken murders to be reported, and I had hardly reported any myself.

"Noah," I said, my voice trembling. "He kidnapped me, Morgan. And he tried to kill Kensie, the other person you think of as a niece."

"Noah?" I nodded quickly, feeling sick to my stomach. I silently prayed that he would listen to me. "He saved me, Morgan. Please. We need you for this."

"For what?"

"We need you, Morgan, to help get Noah out of the picture. Please," Michael finally found his voice and stepped next to me. "We have a plan, but we need police."

"What's it to me?"

"For the sake of our family, please," Michael pleaded. Time seemed to crawl as I waited for his response. It was all we needed. Just someone inside the system who could help us arrest him and finally catch him.

"Fine. I'll help you out. If you can get Alex to agree."

"Bet."

——