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"We've found the auction," Natalie states. Adrenaline replaces the previous guilt and regret that once plagued me. This is a situation I can control, one that I can handle both inside and out.
"Where?" I ask.
"It took some digging, but it's going to be in a warehouse on the outskirts of town," she explains. "It's one of those temporary ones that you're able to transport around so you actually need exact coordinates to be able to find it since it's not a permanent location. We have a team ready to take them down tomorrow."
"Good," I say idly, watching as Morgan sits at a table with a group of other students. She picks at the slice of pizza on her plate, completely uninterested and not engaging with anyone around her. While I want to be excited that we'll finally be doing something that'll get us closer to ending this, I also know this means that my time with Morgan will be coming to an end soon. I can still see the hurt in her eyes when I'd told her the other night that I didn't know what'd happen to us when this was over. I didn't want to give her false hope, but I didn't want to tell her we didn't have a chance. Regardless of my initial reason forpursuing her, I can't deny our connection. That was real, even if the part I played wasn't.
I just hope she can understand that and not hate me when it's time for me to walk away.
"With the auction located, now we only have the Russian bratva to worry about," Natalie says. "I'm still gathering the information on them, and once they're located, a team will be organized to deal with that as well. As for you… You'll have another assignment out in Texas coming up soon. A mass shooter is planning an attack during an upcoming political rally."
I frown. "But this job isn't complete," I state. "What about everything going on here?"
"I'll have people look after the girl. Now that the hit is no longer valid, there's not much reason for you to remain. You did your job; you proved that the hit was wrong, and found the real culprits. We can take it from here."
I try to swallow the knot in my throat. Leaving one job before it's complete isn't new, but it doesn't mean I'm ready to leave. But at the end of the day, my job always came first. It's one of the reasons I've never attempted to have a relationship while I'm active in this career. One minute, I'm here, and the next minute, I'm gone. I can already imagine the vitriol I'll get from Morgan when I have to tell her I'm leaving, especially after ghosting her for the past couple of days.
"Trent?" Natalie says.
I shake thoughts of Morgan from my mind and clear my throat. "Yeah, I heard you," I say. "I'll start preparing for that job once I get the information from you."
"Good. I'll send it over soon. I'll also send you the information about the auction as well. I'll be in touch," she says and hangs up.
I let my head hit the headrest and groan out into my quiet car. I thought I had more time. I thought I had enough time to attempt to figure out a way to fit Morgan into my life, even if we're just friends, but now that isn't possible. It's best to go ahead and cut the cord while it's still small. The last thing I want to do is lead her to believe we can be more than we are and end up hurting her when she realizes it's not realistic for us.
After hesitating for a few moments, I finally open her text thread and type the message that fills me with dread with each letter that appears on the screen.
Trent: I've been reassigned to another case so I'll be leaving soon. Someone else will be taking over to keep an eye on you and your father until everything is resolved, so don't worry. You'll still be protected. Take care of yourself.
My finger hovers over the send button as I mentally fight myself over whether I should send it. A part of me wonders if sending this as a text instead of calling her is a douchebag move, but I know I'm not in the mindset to want to argue with her about it. I'm sure she'll be upset to know that I'm leaving, and she won't understand that it's probably for the best if I do. Before I can talk myself out of it, I press send and immediately put my phone to sleep. I close my eyes and rest my head on the headrest. I don't even have enough time to allow my guilt to remanifest before my phone rings, her name showing up on my screen. I only stare at it, not moving a muscle until the ringing ceases...only to immediately start back up again.
"Yes, Morgan?" I answer with a sigh when I finally pick up.
"Are you kidding me right now?!" she practically screams into the phone. "You literally send me that in a text? You don'teven give me the courtesy of giving me a phone call with that information?"
I rub the smooth space in the middle of my forehead and tighten my jaw. "I would've said the same thing in a phone call as I said in a text, so what difference does it make?" I ask. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I don't want to fight with her. I don't want my last memories of her to be angry or hostile. I want to remember when things were better, sweeter, softer. But now, all I can focus on is the red hot fury that burns on the other end of the phone as she continues to fuss.
"You practically ghost me for days despite me reaching out to you and now you're telling me you're leaving in a text?" she continues, her voice growing louder. "You would've been better off just texting, 'fuck you, Morgan. You never meant shit to me so I'm leaving.'"
"What do you want me to say?" I snap, anger heating my skin. "I can't help it if I've been assigned to go elsewhere. You should be glad that I'm telling you I'm leaving to begin with because I didn't have to."
"You know what? Now I wish that you hadn't," she grounds out. "In fact, I'm glad you're leaving. And maybe you're right. I can just go back to my life and pretend I never met you since that's what you want anyway."
"Morgan—"
The call ends before I can even finish my sentence as she hangs up. I grind my teeth in frustration as my hand tightens around my phone. The conversation went as expected, but I'm not sure why I'm disappointed by her words. I mean, technically she's right. I do want her to move on and live her life but there's this odd sensation at the thought of her doing that without me. It's like wanting something that you know is bad for you, yet you can't stay away from it. I know that putting distance betweenus is for the best, but why doesn't it feel good when I know that staying will only make things worse for her?
I watch her as she snatches her backpack up and storms away from the table she was once sitting at, leaving her friends staring at her in confusion. One of her female friends jump up and chase her, prompting me to turn on my equipment to be able to listen to the bug I'd planted on her backpack the night I was at her house.
"Hey, you okay?" her friend asks.
"I don't want to talk about it," Morgan states, her voice thick with tears. Guilt crashes into me yet again as I continue to listen.
"Is it that guy again? The one you were talking about yesterday?"
I freeze, wondering what Morgan could've possibly told her about me. It was already risky to have told Morgan about what I did; I can't have her telling other people as well. Morgan doesn't say anything for a moment.
"I said I don't want to talk about it," she repeats, her voice more firm.
