Shadows And Secrets

Makayla poured herself a glass of water with steady hands, but her mind was far from calm. Derek Morgan—the Derek Morgan—was in her home again after all these years. And of course, it couldn’t just be a social call. It had to be life or death.

Some things never change.

She turned and found him still standing near the door, scanning the room like it might suddenly explode.

“Relax,” she said, taking a sip. “You’re making my living room feel like a war zone.”

He finally looked at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Force of habit.”

Makayla raised a brow. “Still working yourself to death, I see.”

He gave her a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Still calling me out like you always did.”

For a moment, there was silence—thick and full of history. He watched her, eyes softer now, and something in his expression made her chest ache.

“I’m sorry, Makayla,” he said quietly.

She blinked. “For what?”

“For disappearing. For not being there when you needed someone.”

Makayla looked away. “You don’t owe me an apology. We were kids. We both had our pain.”

Derek wanted to push, but he didn’t. Not yet.

“I need to know,” he said instead. “Did anything happen recently that felt… off? Strange phone calls? Someone watching you? Anything.”

Makayla hesitated. She hated reliving the past—especially that part—but she couldn’t deny what had been gnawing at her gut for weeks.

“There were flowers left outside my office door,” she admitted. “No note. No card. Just... lilies. Every Friday. For the past month.”

Derek’s expression darkened. “Did you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” She sighed. “I thought it was a client being grateful, or... someone being weird. But I didn’t feel threatened. Until now.”

“Makayla,” he said gently, stepping closer. “You know we think this guy is your ex.”

She stiffened. The word alone made her stomach twist.

“I haven’t spoken to him in years,” she said quietly. “He moved out of state. I thought he was gone.”

Derek’s voice lowered. “You never told anyone what he did to you. Not even me.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I told myself I didn’t want to be a victim again. I buried it.”

“And now it’s come back.”

She met his gaze, and something cracked between them—something raw and old and real.

“I’m not a victim,” she said firmly. “Not this time.”

Derek nodded, his voice rough. “No. You’re not. But you’re not alone either.”

A pause.

“You’re stuck with me, babygirl.”

The nickname—soft and familiar—hit her like a wave. She’d almost forgotten how easily he slipped past her walls. Almost.

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this.”

“I’m not trying to charm,” he said. “I’m trying to protect.”

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He stepped aside to answer it, voice shifting instantly into professional mode.

“Morgan.”

Prentiss’s voice crackled through the line. “We’ve got a problem. A fourth victim was just found. Same MO.”

Derek’s eyes locked onto Makayla.

“When?”

“About two hours ago. But here’s the twist—she never attended the trauma group. She worked at the counseling center. Receptionist. No direct contact with the others.”

Derek’s blood ran cold. The unsub was expanding the circle.

Makayla’s name was still at the center.

He ended the call and turned to her, all traces of casualness gone. “We need to move you somewhere safe.”

Her smile faded. “I’m not hiding.”

“You’re not hiding,” he said. “You’re surviving.”

She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him she was stronger than this.

But then she remembered the flowers. The shadowy figure she thought she saw outside her office. The nightmares that had returned with no warning.

And the way Derek looked at her like she mattered.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Just until this is over.”

Derek nodded, already planning out every exit, every possible danger. But part of him wasn’t thinking like an agent anymore.

He was thinking like a man who’d already lost her once—and wouldn’t survive doing it again.