I pull into our driveway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across our little suburban refuge. Sarah's words from our coffee meetup still rattle around my brain like loose change. Four months since the Morgan nightmare, and I'm still drifting through life like a ghost, clinging to Lana as my only anchor to reality.
The engine dies with a tired wheeze as I turn the key. Lana's car isn't here yet, her shoot must be running long.
I step out, stretching my arms overhead until my back gives a satisfying pop. The summer air feels heavy, electric somehow, like the atmosphere before a storm. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the strange prickle of unease crawling up my spine.
Just as I'm walking to our front door, four black SUVs come roaring up the street, tires squealing as they screech to a halt, effectively boxing in my car and blocking the driveway.
"What the fuck," I freeze mid-step, keys dangling from my suddenly numb fingers.
Men in dark suits pour out of the vehicles like some kind of coordinated SWAT team, moving with practiced efficiency. My heart slams against my ribs as pure instinct kicks in.
"No! What the fuck is this?" I backpedal toward the house, but two suits are already flanking me, cutting off my escape route. "Get away from me!"
I scan the neighborhood desperately. The neighbor's driveway is empty, the one time I need that nosy old woman and her golden retriever to be home, and she's gone. Perfect.
"Help!" I scream, my voice cracking with panic as I lash out with a wild kick that connects with someone's shin. "Somebody help me!"
A meaty hand clamps down on my shoulder while another grabs my flailing arm. I thrash violently, adrenaline giving me strength I didn't know I had, but there are too many of them. Three, four suits now, restraining me with brutal efficiency.
"Get the fuck off me!" I manage before a hand slaps over my mouth, smothering my screams. The taste of someone else's skin against my tongue makes me gag.
I bite down hard, earning a muffled curse as the hand withdraws momentarily, only to be replaced by what feels like a cloth.
One of the SUV doors opens slowly. A flash of red hair catches the dying sunlight, and my stomach drops into freefall.
Morgan steps out, her movements graceful and unhurried, like she has all the time in the world. She looks different somehow, still beautiful in that predatory way but softer around the edges. Her fitted black shirt stretches slightly over what appears to be a small, rounded belly.
My eyes widen in horrified understanding as she approaches, that familiar smile playing on her lips.
"Hello, Adam," she says, her voice washing over me like poison honey. "I've missed you so much."
The man holding the cloth loosens his grip for a moment, yanking it away from my face.
"Morgan, for fuck's sake, I have a restraining order against you!" My voice sounds pathetic even to my own ears, cracking with fear rather than authority.
She laughs, not a giggle, but a full-throated sound of genuine amusement that chills me to the bone. Her green eyes dance with something wild and unhinged.
"Oh, Adam," she says, stepping closer until I can smell her perfume, that same intoxicating scent that once made my heart race for very different reasons. "You can't possibly believe I care about a piece of paper, can you? After everything we've been through?"
Her hand drifts to her slightly rounded belly, caressing it with possessive tenderness. The gesture makes my blood run cold.
"You left me all alone," she whispers, her voice dropping to that hypnotic purr I remember so well, "with so much of you still growing inside me."
The world tilts sideways as her words sink in. My knees buckle, and only the iron grip of the men holding me keeps me upright.
"That's impossible," I stammer, my mouth suddenly desert-dry. "You have an IUD. You told me…"
Morgan's expression shifts to one of mild confusion before her lips curve into an amused smile. "That was a lie."
The world seems to shrink around me, narrowing to just her face, her words hammering into my skull like physical blows.
"Wow," she continues, genuine surprise coloring her voice. "You really just believed everything I told you back then, didn't you? That's actually kind of cute."
She reaches out, her cool fingers tracing my jawline with a touch so gentle it makes my skin crawl. I try to jerk away, but the men holding me tighten their grip, keeping me still for her caress.
"Adam," Morgan says, her eyes softening with what looks disturbingly like genuine affection. "This isn't a lie. I love you with every fiber of my being. I only want to make you happy."
She steps closer, her pregnant belly now unmistakable from this proximity. "Yes, my methods were extreme," she admits, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "But they were all designed to give you the most comfortable life possible."
"You're insane," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to myself. "This is kidnapping. These men will go to prison."
Morgan's lips curl into an evil smile that used to take my breath away. She lifts her hand with a casual flick of her wrist, and suddenly the iron grip on my arms releases. The suits step back in perfect unison, creating a small circle around us like some bizarre ritual.
I stumble forward, catching myself before I fall completely. My first instinct is to run, but where? They've blocked my car, the house, every escape route. My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped animal.
"Relax, Adam," Morgan says, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. "This isn't a kidnapping. I'm simply here to offer you a choice."
She steps closer, one hand still cradling her belly. The evening light catches in her red hair, setting it ablaze like some unholy halo.
"It's actually quite simple," she continues. "You can either come with me willingly and be a father to our child." Her eyes flick meaningfully to her stomach, "Or you can stay here with Lana."
A choice? This doesn't sound like Morgan. There has to be a catch, some hidden trap I'm not seeing.
"But," she adds, her voice dropping to that honeyed tone that always preceded her most dangerous moments, "if you choose to stay, you need to know something."
She steps even closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume, feel the heat radiating from her body.
My stomach lurches as the reality of the situation hits me. A child. My child. Growing inside her right now. The thought of my son or daughter out there in the world without me makes me physically ill. I've always dreamed of being a dad, playing catch in the backyard, teaching them to ride a bike, all those moments I'd imagined sharing with Lana someday when she retired.
Morgan's eyes narrow as she watches the emotions play across my face. Her voice drops to a venomous whisper.
"If you choose Lana, I want you to understand exactly what will happen." Her fingers dig into her belly possessively. "You will never find me. I will never come back to you. I will make this child's life a living nightmare. From the moment they can form thoughts, I will poison their mind. I will make sure they grow up damaged beyond repair."
I feel the blood drain from my face as she continues, her words precise and measured like she's discussing a business transaction.
"I will break them so thoroughly that by the time they're a teenager, suicide will be inevitable." Her eyes never leave mine, searching for the impact of her words. "That's a promise, Adam."
"You wouldn't," I whisper, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know she would. The woman who drugged me, who manipulated me for months, who orchestrated the destruction of my relationship, it seems there's nothing she wouldn't do.
Morgan's expression softens suddenly, the transformation so complete it's like watching a mask slip into place.
"But if you come with me," she says, her voice gentle now, almost maternal, "if you help me raise our baby, I will be the most loving mother this child could ever dream of having." She takes my hand, placing it against her belly. "We could be so happy together, Adam. A real family."
I feel something flutter beneath my palm, a kick, small but unmistakable. My child. My actual child.
"You can't do this," I plead, my voice breaking. "You can't use an innocent baby as leverage."
"I'm not using anyone," Morgan replies, her eyes wide with practiced sincerity. "I'm simply telling you the truth about what kind of mother I'll be in either scenario. The choice is yours."
The men in suits stand motionless around us, silent witnesses to this nightmare. One of them checks his watch discreetly, and Morgan nods.
"Lana will be home in about thirty minutes," she says. "So you need to decide now, Adam. Your comfortable life with her, or your child's future."
"How do I even know it's mine?" I blurt out, the words tumbling from my mouth before I can stop them. My hand jerks away from her belly like I've been burned. "You've lied about everything else."
Morgan's eyes narrow for a split second before her expression smooths into something almost amused. She lets out a short, dismissive laugh that makes my skin crawl.
"Oh, Adam," she scoffs, tossing her red hair over one shoulder. "You're the only one I've slept with since I got my IUD out. But..." She tilts her head, studying me like I'm a particularly interesting specimen. "I know you won't believe me that easily. I'd be happy to do as many DNA tests as you want before and after our baby is born."
Her hand returns to her stomach, protective and possessive. "I have nothing to hide. This is your child."
The street around us seems to contract, the air growing thinner. I can feel the walls closing in, my options disappearing one by one. The suits stand motionless, watching our exchange with blank expressions.
"I need to tell Lana," I say, my voice cracking. "I can't just leave her again without saying anything. Not like before. I have to explain…"
"No." Morgan's voice cuts through my plea like a blade. Her eyes flash dangerously, all pretense of warmth evaporating in an instant. "I'll take care of Lana."
The casual way she says it makes my blood run cold.
"Please, Morgan," I beg, taking a step toward her. "She doesn't deserve that. Not again. Please."
My words hang in the air between us. Her determination doesn't falter at all.
"The car is waiting," she says simply, gesturing toward the largest SUV. Her expression hasn't changed, hasn't softened. She's not budging an inch.
One of the suits steps forward, opening the rear door of the vehicle. The message is clear, time's up.
I glance back at the house Lana and I have shared these past four months. Our safe haven. The place where I've been slowly putting myself back together. I think about her coming home to find me gone, no explanation, no goodbye. Again.
My vision blurs as hot tears well up in my eyes. The reality of this impossible choice hits me like a physical blow, my heart and my freedom, or my child's life.
"Please," I choke out, voice cracking. "Let me just leave her a note, Morgan. Two minutes. That's all I'm asking."
Morgan's face hardens. Without a word, she turns her back on me and strides toward the waiting SUV, her pregnant silhouette outlined against the setting sun.
"I love her," I call after her.
Morgan freezes. Her shoulders tense as she slowly pivots to face me, green eyes flashing with dangerous fury.
"More than our child, Adam?" she hisses, one protective hand curving around her belly. "More than this innocent life you helped create?"
The blow lands exactly where she intended. I feel myself crumbling, shoulders sagging under the weight of an impossible decision.
"Just a note, please," I whisper, hating how weak I sound. "She deserves that much."
Morgan's lips curve into a cold smile. She slides into the backseat of the SUV, then looks at me through the open door.
"Five," she announces, her voice eerily calm.
My heart hammers against my ribs. She can't be serious.
"Four."
Panic rises like bile in my throat. I look frantically between the house and the car, paralyzed by indecision.
"Okay, okay, okay!" I blurt, stumbling toward the vehicle. "Stop counting. I'll come with you."
Relief and triumph flash across Morgan's face as she slides over to make room. One of the suits places a firm hand on my back, guiding me into the car beside her. The door slams shut with a finality that makes my stomach drop.
Morgan's fingers intertwine with mine, her touch both familiar and alien. "You made the right choice," she murmurs, squeezing my hand. "Our baby needs you."
The engine purrs to life as the other suits return to their vehicles. I stare out the window at the house growing smaller behind us, wondering if I'll ever see Lana again.
"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice hollow.
Morgan's smile is radiant like we're embarking on some romantic getaway instead of what feels like a kidnapping. "Home," she says simply. "To our new home."
The SUV glides through the darkening streets, each mile carrying me further from the life I thought I was rebuilding. Morgan sits beside me, her hand resting possessively on my thigh, her breathing calm and measured while mine comes in shallow, panicked bursts. My mind races through scenarios, each more desperate than the last. Could I jump out at a stoplight? Flag down a passing car? My muscles tense, preparing for... something, anything.
Morgan notices immediately. Her fingers dig into my leg.
"I wouldn't," she says softly, her voice carrying a subtle warning. "You'd only hurt yourself. And the baby wouldn't have a father."
That last part twists in my gut like a knife. A child. My child. The reality of it still hasn't fully sunk in.
"You can't just…" I start, but the words die in my throat as Morgan turns to face the suited man in the passenger seat.
"Did they leave the envelope at the door?" she asks, her tone suddenly businesslike.
The man nods once, his expression unchanged. "Yes, Ms. Quinn. As instructed."
My heart plummets. "What envelope? What did you do?"
Morgan's lips curl into that smile I once found so captivating but now only fills me with dread. Her eyes gleam in the dim light of the car's interior.
"The truth, Adam," she says, caressing my cheek with cold fingers. "I simply told Lana you're leaving her to raise your baby with me." She shrugs as if discussing nothing more significant than a change in dinner plans. "More importantly, I also left the number of my attorney for when she decides to file a missing persons report on you."
Horror washes over me in a cold wave. "Morgan, please…"
In one fluid motion, she reaches into my pocket and extracts my phone. Before I can react, she presses a button to lower the window and tosses it into the darkness. I hear a distant crack as it hits the pavement behind us.
"You're mine now, Adam."
"All mine."
A/N: This is the end. This story has been such a blast to write, and you readers have really surprised me by sticking with me. I love you all so much! Epilogue soon.