Chapter 11
chapter eleven
Morgan
I'm jolted awake by the ringing of my phone. The screen glows in the predawn darkness of our bedroom. It's Greyson.
"Morgan, are you watching the news?" His voice is tight, controlled in a way that immediately puts me on alert.
"What?" I sit up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "No, what's happening?"
"Turn it on. Channel 6." The line goes dead.
I fumble for the remote, switching on the small television we keep in our room. Trenton stirs beside me, instantly alert at my movement.
"What's going on?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep.
"I don't know yet," I whisper, not wanting to wake Charlie in the next room. "Greyson called."
The news anchor's face fills the screen, her expression grave.
"…discovered early this morning by a group of hikers in Callahan State Park, just outside town boundaries. The woman, whose identity has not yet been released, appears to match the description of previous victims in what police are calling a serial murder case."
My stomach drops. "Trenton…"
"I know." He's already reaching for his phone.
Matthew appears in our doorway, his face pale in the dim light. "You've seen?"
I nod, unable to speak as the news continues.
"Authorities are warning residents to remain vigilant," the anchor continues, "as this marks the third body discovered in as many weeks."
"Three?" I manage to say, turning to Matthew. "But they only found two before."
He shakes his head, his jaw tight. "This must be new."
The camera pans to footage of police officers securing a wooded area with yellow tape. My heart hammers against my ribs as I recognize the park. It's by the forest, the same area where we searched for Charlie.
"We need to call Ethan," I say, throwing back the covers. "And your dad," I add to Trenton.
"Already on it," Trenton confirms, his phone to his ear.
I dress quickly, my mind racing. Is this Evan's work? Has he found another woman who looks like me? Like Charlie's mother?
The thought sends ice through my veins.
In the kitchen, I find Matthew making coffee, his movements precise and controlled despite the tension in his shoulders. "Greyson's sending men to the scene," he tells me without turning around. "The club will have eyes on whatever's happening before the police finish processing."
I nod, though he can't see me. "Good. We need to know."
"Morgan?" Charlie's small voice makes me turn. She stands in the kitchen doorway, Princess Sparklehoof clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frightened. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," I say quickly, moving to her side. "We're just watching the news."
Her eyes drift to the television. "Is it about my daddy?"
The question catches me off guard. "What makes you ask that?"
She shrugs, her small shoulders tense. "He used to get angry when people were on TV. When they showed missing ladies."
My blood runs cold. "He did?"
Charlie nods, her eyes downcast. "He said they were talking about things that weren't their business. That they should leave families alone."
Matthew and I exchange a look over her head. I crouch down to her level, taking her small hands in mine. I don't know what to say, so I just hold her little hands.
She is so young and I pray that the memories of her father will go away.
There is a buzzing at the front gate and I rush to check the security monitor. A woman stands there, clipboard in hand, looking up at the camera with a professional expression. The social worker.
"Ms. Morgan?" Charlie's voice is small behind me. "Who's that?"
I glance down at her anxious face. "Just someone who wants to talk to us about how you're doing here. Nothing to worry about."
Trenton appears at my side, his expression unreadable. "Want me to handle this?"
I shake my head. "No, I should talk to her. You and Matthew stay with Charlie."
I press the button to open the gate, then step outside to meet the social worker. She's a middle-aged woman with kind eyes but the tired posture of someone who's seen too much.
"Ms. Scott," she greets me. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No, please come in." I lead her to the living room, watching her take in our home with a practiced eye.
"We need to talk about Charlie's case," she says, settling onto our couch. Her voice is careful, measured. "I've completed my investigation into her family connections."
I sit across from her, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. "And?"
Her expression softens. "There's no easy way to say this, but Charlie has no known relatives. We've searched extensively, but there's no record of any living family members."
The words hit me with unexpected force. No family. No one to claim her, love her, fight for her.
"We've confirmed that her birth mother died shortly after her birth," the social worker continues. "And now with Mr. Harris facing multiple charges…"
"So what happens now?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.
She meets my eyes directly. "Under these circumstances, the state would normally place her in foster care while beginning adoption proceedings. However…"
"However?"
"Given the temporary placement with you has gone well, and Charlie seems quite attached to all three of you, we could expedite the adoption process, if that's what you want."
My heart leaps. "Yes. We want that. All of us."
The social worker smiles. "I thought you might. Charlie speaks very highly of you all. The judge would need to approve, of course, but given the circumstances and your clean backgrounds, I don't anticipate any issues."
Relief washes through me, so intense it makes my vision blur. "How soon can we start?"
"We can begin the paperwork immediately. However, there's one more thing you should know."
My stomach tightens again. "What's that?"
"Given Mr. Harris's history and current status as a wanted man, his rights as a father would need to be formally terminated before the adoption can proceed. This could delay things if he's not found quickly."
I nod, the reality of our situation settling over me. "We understand."
She stands, gathering her materials. "I'll file the initial paperwork today. You should expect a home visit within the week."
I walk her to the door, my mind racing with possibilities and plans. As I turn back toward the living room, I find Trenton and Matthew standing in the hallway, Charlie between them.
"We heard," Matthew says simply.
"Are you going to keep me?" Charlie asks, her small voice filled with hope and fear.
I crouch down to her level. "Is that what you want?"
She nods, her eyes bright. "More than anything."
"Then yes," I say, pulling her into a hug. "We're going to keep you."
Trenton's hand finds my shoulder, his touch grounding me. "Family meeting tonight," he says quietly. "We need to make plans."
The day stretches on, filled with phone calls to lawyers and adoption agencies. I watch Charlie play in the backyard with Matthew, her laughter carrying on the summer breeze. She looks so normal, so happy, that for a moment I can almost forget the darkness lurking at the edges of our lives.
But as evening falls, reality sets in. We gather in the living room after putting Charlie to bed, her new stuffed animals lined up around her like sentinels.
"We need to find him," I say without preamble. "Before he finds us."
Trenton nods, his expression grim. "Greyson's working with the police. They've identified the latest victim as another woman matching your description."
The information hits me like a physical blow. "Another one? How many does that make?"
"Four confirmed," Matthew says. "Techy thinks there could be more. The pattern goes back years."
I sink onto the couch, my mind reeling. "He's escalating. With Charlie gone, he's losing control."
"Which makes him more dangerous," Trenton finishes my thought.
"We need a plan for if he comes here," Matthew says, his voice low and urgent. "Fortify the house, set up surveillance, have escape routes."
"Already started," Trenton assures him. "The club has men watching the perimeter. We've installed motion sensors and cameras."
I look between them, these two men who have become my life. "And if he gets past all that?"
Trenton's expression hardens. "Then he learns why you don't threaten the Devil Souls' family."
The words should frighten me, but they don't. Instead, I feel a strange calm settle over me. We will protect Charlie. We will keep her safe. Whatever it takes.
"Tomorrow we start the adoption process officially," I say, changing the subject. "I've called a lawyer who specializes in complicated cases."
"We should talk to your parents too," Matthew suggests. "They should know what's happening."
I nod. "Tomorrow. After we've had time to process this ourselves."
As we prepare for bed, I check on Charlie one last time. She's sleeping peacefully, her small hand curled around the stuffed dog my father gave her. In the dim light, I can see the bruises on her arms are almost gone now, but the marks left by fear and uncertainty will take longer to heal.
"We'll make sure she's never afraid again," Trenton says from the doorway, his voice a quiet promise.
I turn to him, love and determination filling my chest. "We'll need to be smart about this. Evan isn't going to just disappear."
Matthew joins us, his expression thoughtful. "No, but we have resources he doesn't. The club, the police, your father's connections. We can find him before he finds us."
I step between them, taking both their hands. "Then that's what we do. We end this, once and for all."
Later, as I lie between them in bed, their bodies warm and solid against mine, I allow myself to imagine our future. Charlie growing up with us, safe and loved.