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I sigh deeply, racking my brain for a quick way to fix this situation. "I'm sorry," I finally say in a hushed tone as I drop my gaze to the bed. "I...guess I got a bit triggered hearing himyelling at you, and I reacted without thinking." I can feel her eyes on me, so I use the moment to continue speaking. "Back when I was in the group home, there was this foster dad who used to yell like that. Hearing him sent me back to a time when I wasn't brave enough to stand up for myself, so I thought now was the time." I finally look back up at her. "I overstepped, and I apologize."
Her earlier annoyance disappears as her face softens. She slips back into bed and slides over to me, kissing me gently. "I understand," she murmurs. "I'm sorry I flipped out on you. I guess I didn't think about how my dad's normal behavior would affect other people. It's kind of something I'm used to now."
"But you shouldn't be." I take her hand into mine and lace our fingers together. "No one should ever talk to you like that.”
She nods, her gaze on our hands. "Well, I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I can handle my dad. Like I said, I'm used to it. It doesn't hurt the way it used to when I was younger."
Even though she tries to sound confident, she can't hide the hint of sadness that peeks through her words. I give her hand a squeeze. "As much as I'd love to stay in bed with you all day, I should probably get you back home because we make matters worse," I say. "Want to take a shower with me?"
"Sure," she beams. I lead her into the bathroom and turn on the rainfall showerhead, pulling her in behind me when the water is hot enough. It's strange how natural all of this feels, as if this is where Morgan has always belonged. I can't even remember the last time I've dated anyone, much less bring them to my home and allow them to spend the night. Yet here I am, now in the shower with the woman I'm contracted to kill after taking her virginity.
The thought of being her first sexual experience fills my chest with warmth and worry. Even without sex involved, I'vehad an inkling that the lines between pretending and reality would eventually blur. I'd told myself that I wasn't going to get emotionally involved, that this is only another part of my mission before I carry out a hit. But the more I'm around her, the professional dynamic of hitman and target start to dissolve, leaving the forbidden ground fertile enough for something else to bloom.
Something I can't afford to have happen until I get to the bottom of this.
I push the thoughts aside and focus on Morgan. Soaping up a washcloth, I gently clean her as she does the same for me. The adoration in her eyes as she looks up at me makes my chest tight. The sight before me would've made me happy if this situation were different. But I know that one day, the adoration I see now may disappear forever when she learns who I really am.
"You okay?" she asks as she runs her soapy hands along my chest. I wish I could tell her that I wasn't, that my loyalty to my job and my budding connection with her was bound to drive me mad. I wish I could tell her the truth without any kind of negative repercussions other than an embarrassing story we can look back on and laugh about later. But none of that is realistic. I still don't know what we're truly up against to know if she's in danger or if the information we have on her is correct. I've already failed at one mission I'll never forgive myself for. I won't let it happen again if I can help it.
Instead of answering her, I kiss her deeply until a soft sigh leaves her lips. I move the soapy washcloth along her skin as my lips leave a hot trail of kisses along her jawline and her face. Every touch and kiss is gentle, almost as if I'm handling the most delicate flower. It's what she deserves; it's what she always deserves.
Her phone rings from the bedroom, popping the steamy bubble of passion in the shower. Her shoulders sag as she sighs. "It's probably my dad again," she murmurs.
I don't want her to go, but I still have more work to do, and she does have to go back to her life in order for me to get more information. I reach behind her and turn the showerhead off. "I'd better get you home before he potentially calls the cops and says that I kidnapped you," I tease and step out of the shower.
She laughs and takes the towel that I hold out to her. "I want to say you're wrong, but that kind of sounds like something he'd probably do, especially after you threatened him," she muses with a grin.
Though I smile, her response doesn't make me feel any more at ease about her father. That night at her house, I'd wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't do anything that would put Morgan in harm's way since she's his daughter. But after listening to the man berate and scold his daughter over a missed social media post—which isn't a huge deal to the average person—only makes me wonder just what he's up to and whether or not he's capable of putting a hit on his own daughter.
"I honestly don't even wantto get out of the car."
Morgan and I sit in her driveway in silence. I look over at her. "We can go somewhere else if you want."
She looks toward her front door, anxiety tugging her features down into a frown that doesn't suit her. "I have to face him at some point. May as well get it over with." She gives me a small smile. "Call you later?"
"Yeah, okay." She opens the car door, but I grab her hand to stop her. "You know I'm just a phone call away if you need to get away."
She smiles at me and leans over to give me a quick peck on the lips. "I know. Talk to you later."
I watch as she makes her way to the front door, which flies open before she can even reach it. Her father stands in the doorway, his face almost as red as his shirt as she stares at her without a word. Morgan stops just a few feet away from the door, and her father says something I'm unable to hear, which brings a smirk to my lips. I guess he took my warning about yelling at her seriously.
His eyes moved to my car, and he gives me a death glare. I return one of my own in a silent challenge to see if he's man enough to come to my car to confront me about what I'd said on the phone earlier. Luckily for him, he thinks better of it and focuses on Morgan instead. He steps aside and points inside the house. Anger licks up my spine as I watch Morgan shuffle into the house with her head bowed, and a part of me is guilty that I may have caused her more issues by threatening her father.
I force myself to put my car in reverse and back out of her driveway. Once I'm at the entrance of her neighborhood, I make a U-turn and head back down the street at a slow pace. I stop right before I get to her house to stay out of immediate view while also still being close enough to watch her.
She and her father are in the living room, her hands waving around wildly before she storms off. I lightly hit my forehead with my fist when I realize the missed opportunity I had to plant a bug in her bedroom or even her house when I had the chance. Remembering the bug I'd placed on her shirt a couple of days ago, I pull out my phone. There's a high chance that I probably won't be able to hear much of anything depending on where the shirt or the bug is, but hopefully, I can at least catch something.
There's a lot of static at first, almost to the point where I don't think I'm going to get anything of substance. But then I suddenly hear him, not that I have much of a choice when he's yelling.
"And what kind of daughter are you to let some punk you hardly know talk to your father that way?" he bellows. Every muscle in my body wants to jump out of my car and kick her front door down, but it's not my place to do so.
"How was I supposed to know he was going to say that? I didn't ask him to!" she fires back. "And it's not like he's wrong. All you do is scream and yell at me as if I'm still a child, and I'm not! You're so busy treating me like an employee or product that you can't even look at me as your daughter and see that I'm not the child you keep treating me as!"
"If you acted like an adult, you'd be treated like one," he fires back. "Adults handle their responsibilities and fulfill their obligations as they promise to?—"
"It was one night and one post!" Morgan exclaims, completely exasperated. "Whether you think so or not, I do have a life outside of social media. I'm allowed to have time to myself to spend with people I want to spend with, not slaving around making videos, going live, or taking photos for the various companies you rope me into working with."
Interesting,I think to myself as I tuck that piece of information in the back of my mind. I make a mental note to talk to Morgan about her social media and her father's role in it, but movement nearby makes me pause. It's then that I notice what looks like an unmarked police car across from me, also watching Morgan's house. The entire time I've been here and been around Morgan, I haven't seen anyone else trailing her or staking out her home. I take my earbuds out and put my phone to sleep before getting out of my car.
