"If I look hard enough
Into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me
Before the morning comes"

  ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 

"I never thought I'd die like this." Morgan's voice appears after a long episode of silence.

It's soothing, almost making me feel at ease in this moment. Almost.

"We're not doing to die." I assure her.

"We are," she sarcastically laughs, "this is practically Hell already."

"Stop talking like that," I put my foot down. "you're not dying. I'm especially not going to let Beck kill us."

Cleo's sitting on the single step in front of the door, guarding it like her life depends on it which it probably does.

I can't believe she's in this deep, not only with the drugs, but with Beck.
I knew she was in trouble when I found out she was helping Sabrina— err, Marissa— but I never thought in a million years she'd turn on me like this.

Cleo steals looks at me every once in the while and I can only shake my head, if not, stare back at her coldly.
She makes me sick. So does Beck, but I expected this from him.

I laugh at random, startling Morgan.

"What?" She asks in all seriousness.

"I wasn't even mad Beck did whatever he did to me, but I'm pissed he dragged you into this. I'm sorry, Morgan."

"Don't apologize, this isn't your fault." She's too forgiving.

"Yes it is, everything from day one has been my fault. Now look."

"I'm not going to listen to this anymore. Stop it, Chris-"

"Maybe it's all karma for taking you from Malcolm... then basically killing him. Everything I've done since we met has been almost a game of catch up and trying to cover my own ass. I should've left you alone."

"Chris!" Morgan gasps at my confession.

"I mean it." I sigh. "You were forbidden fruit. I feel like, if there is a God, they've been testing me ever since. You shouldn't have to live like this, Morgan, you're too good. I got us in some deep, deep shit."

"I remember the first time I heard your voice," Morgan doesn't make any sense. She does, that was just random.

"I thought it was attractive, I was excited to see your face, and hope it matched. It did. I immediately was disappointed when it wasn't you that I flew to Colorado for, but that changed when you smiled at me for the first time. You tried so hard to be standoffish, I could see right through it. Sometimes you got on my nerves, but I always felt something between us, even when you were chasing those girls. I knew it meant nothing. I didn't care about your past, or that you were tied in with Malcolm, I only cared about you. That's never changed."

"You love me too much." The words slip out of my mouth.

"Chris, shut up, you're not thinking right now." Morgan says, pulling her knees to her chest.

I hate seeing her like that - stripped against her will. Beck, touching her, made me want to commit crimes worse than murder.

"Is it getting cold in here?" I ask when hit with a sudden chill.

"You're just now noticing?" Morgan gripes, teeth chattering.

I wish there was something I could do and I feel so useless since I can't.

"Cleo," I get her attention. "can you at least give her back her jacket, or something, Beck isn't even here?"

Cleo keeps a straight face, and it's a hard one to look at so I try not to for long.

"Fine," I snarl. "it's not like you owe me, or anything."

Reverse psychology or manipulation, call it what you want.

"What do I owe you?"

"How about a fucking explanation?" The spike in the volume of my voice makes Cleo jump.

"I did what I had to do for me, okay?" Her voice breaks. "You'll be fine. You always are."

I shake my head, devastated. I don't know why. Cleo told me she was crackhead, I should've treated her like one, not letting anything she's ever told me mean a thing. Just like with my father's alcoholism, I should've given her zero grace.

"I was worried about you, Cleo," I admit. "after finding you with all those men, I risked my life for you, actually. I tried to get you help, I-I took you to my home against Morgan's wishes. She was right about you, too. I should've listened and I didn't. Even after that, I was skipping my lunch breaks to go look for you in alleys, calling any and everyone to see if they knew where you were."

"You cared that much?" Cleo's voice squeaks.

My jaw clenches. "I shouldn't have," I reply.

My eyes shift to Morgan and she's not happy.

"I'm sorry." I tell my fiancé. Seems like I'll be saying that a lot more while we're here.

Morgan just stares at me with a look in her eyes that I've never seen before - a mix of loathing, spite, and anguish.

"I knew you were still looking for her, making the phone calls. I was checking your phone every once in a while ever since the Sabrina thing first came up." Morgan reveals.

"You what?" My laughter is in shock, not amusement.

"Don't look at me like that," Morgan's rage makes her sound different. "obviously, I had to."

"No, you didn't."

"Whatever," she says, closing her eyes.

"'Whatever?' I thought you trusted me?" I argue.

Morgan keeps her head against the wall and only opens one eye on me, snickers, then shuts her eyes again.

"You're hysterical." She uses my words against me and presents them just as plainly.

Give me a fucking break.

I shut my eyes, too, trying to think of a solution here.  We're tied up. The knot is just a little Boy Scouts knot but still effective, obviously, I can't get out of it.

There's one exit which we can see, only guarded by Cleo, but she's been staring at the bag of crack for the past few minutes. I know she wants to use. If she does, maybe we can trick her into releasing us, tug at her heartstrings - if she even has a heart.

I caught the sparkle in her eyes, though, as Morgan and I argued, she likes that. She encourages it, of course, that was their big plan; get me and Morgan apart so Sabrina and Beck can have us.

I hate to do this but I'm not about to let Morgan and I sit down here any longer.

"I can't marry you, Morgan." I sigh.

Her eyelids spring open and lock on my face. "What are you saying?"

My facial expression, I hope, is enough to get her to shut up and catch on. She's smart, I know she'll get it.

She then takes a second and then has this kind of "ohhh" look, like a lightbulb just turned on.

"Maybe I am meant to be with people like Sabrina. Beck told me that we're the same, he's right. I want to live like this."

"I knew you'd see things our way." Cleo accepts what I've said and praises me for this resolution.

Morgan keeps up the act. "When we get out of here, I want nothing to do with you. Cleo, you and your sister can fucking have him. Give me the gun, I'll shoot him myself."

"Well, I'm not going to shoot the father of my future nephew." She replies.

"I'm sorry, nephew?" I wonder what she means.

"Father?" Morgan repeats.

Cleo just grins at us maniacally, showing what little teeth she has left in that rotted mouth. "There's a reason Sabrina wanted out: she's with child. Congratulations, Chrissy. Now that you two are calling it off, this will be so much easier. In fact, I'll call her and tell her the good news now."

I immediately shift my gaze to Morgan but she snaps her neck away, unable to look at me.

My heart stops pounding so fast. I think, if it were possible, it stopped beating at all.

"—They're in here bickering like they hate each other, God, you'd love it! Wait 'til Beck hears the good news, he can't wait to have Morgan. Sis, you should see the look on their faces. You win. Oh, I'll tell him, alright. Yep, he'll be here waiting for you. See you soon," Cleo talks on the phone.

She ends the call and then sits beside me with her legs crossed.

"Sabrina says hi," Cleo cackles, "she'll be here soon."

"I'm gonna be a dad?" I question, watching Cleo rock back and forth.

"To a bouncing baby boy, you sure are." Cleo giggles, reaching in her pocket to reveal an ultrasound. I can't look, I don't want to.

That thing growing inside of Sabrina can't be real. If it is, it's not mine, I won't claim it. It's not a result of love o-or even accidental sex. No, she drugged me and extracted my fucking DNA.

I shut my eyes tight and wonder how all of this could have happened.

Not willing to give up, I devise another quick plan.

"You did all this because you hate your father?" I ask Cleo, keeping my tone neutral. I want her to think that I care, that we're bonding.

"Beck said you wanted to get rid of him. If that's the case, shouldn't you be thanking me? I mean, everyone thinks I helped get him locked up. I don't think he was so bad."

"I don't think you should be talking to her about her father right now, she has a gun in her hand and orders to shoot you." Morgan remarks with a concerned look in her eyes.

I ignore her comments. I'm sure the baby news just made her lose all hope and the will to want to escape with me but we need to try.

Like I said, reverse psychology. After all, Morgan's the one who goes to therapy and got me into it, she should recognize some of Doctor Hassan's tactics. Personally, every time Rita dug too deep during a session, I needed to drink or smoke after.

"He was the worst." Cleo protests.

"What did he ever do to you anyway?" I pry.

Seeing she doesn't want to open up, I shrug my shoulders and look comfortable. "You can tell me..."

"It's not like we're going anywhere any time soon." Morgan provides comedic relief.

Just that easily, Cleo's taken to a place where she feels she can't go to without getting traumatized again. So she turns to the drugs.

"I don't need this, okay?" Her neck is loose as she shakes and tries justifying why she's about to use. "talking to me like you know something. YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT! You don't know shit... not about what he did to me. I was just a little girl. That's what they liked, too, all those men he worked with. They would— you don't know shit."

Cleo removes her oversized, knit grey long sleeve shirt and ties a red ribbon around her arm.

While she does this, she's talking to herself, eyes twitching.

After heating the substance on a spoon and filling a needle, Cleo stabs it into a vein in her arm.

"Ahh." She slips out of reality and falls flat onto her back.

Morgan scowls. "I hope she's dead."

I watch her bite her bra strap and wiggle until something pink falls into her lap. It's a knife, I think. That's confirmed once Morgan contorts her body to get it behind her back.

She celebrates a small victory once she gets it into her hands and starts filing at the rope. After a little bit, she's free.

First, she stands and pulls on her sweater and pants.

She collects her things from off of the floor, sweeping them back into her purse, and then says, "See ya!"

"Morgan!" I yell.

She laughs and walks back to me.

"I was just kidding." She finds herself funny, laughing as she unties my wrists.

"Good one." I deadpan.

Finally.

I go to high-five Morgan for her good work but she just stares at me blankly.

"Congratulations, you'll be a great father." She shudders, pushing past my body.

I smack my lips, unsure of what to say. This obviously is news to me, too.

"Okay, there's a door, but what's after that?" I wonder, looking in the lockers that line the walls. Nothing's in them.

"I have no idea where we are," Morgan says. "but it has to be near Yara and Nick's house."

"Great, so, the middle of nowhere." I flail my arms.

Morgan digs through her purse and checks her phone. "It's about to die." She frets.

A text tone excites the both of us.

"It's Jasmine," Morgan blurts excitedly, "I think she's on her way!"

"That's good, we'll need a ride, but that isn't helping us get out. I'm not going to wait and keep burning to death down here."

"Get used to it, it's not like you're going to Heaven." Morgan grumbles, tying her hair up.

"Okay," I growl. "what do you want me to say, Morgan?! I've apologized over a thousand times. I shouldn't have got you into this in the first place, it's all my fault. But you know I didn't sleep with Sabrina— Marissa— whoever the fuck she is!"

Morgan stops and suddenly puts her finger up, looking up at the dirt falling from the roof.

I push her hand out of my face. "No, we have time. Let's talk. I am sorry-"

"Shut up," Morgan snaps her fingers. "he's coming back."

"What should we do?" I ask since she has all the answers. After all, it's her who he wants, maybe she can get us out of this one, too.

"Act like we're still tied up," Morgan demands in a loud whisper. "don't say anything, let me. We're going to run out of here. If I remember correctly, there's a church behind that corner store. If we get there unseen, we can wait there for Jasmine."

"How close did she say she is?" I whisper back, getting into position.

"Like twenty minutes."

I roll my eyes. "We're fucked. You know that means like another hour."

Morgan sucks her teeth at me, sitting back on the ground like she's tied up.

"What are you doing?" I ask as she closes her eyes and starts to mumble.

"Praying, shh." She tells me quickly.

"—I humbly ask that whatever higher power is up there, that you see our hearts and recognize that it is not our time to go. Guide us out of here and to safety. Amen." She finishes.

I'm impressed and my face shows it. "Ms.Dana got to you, too, huh?"

Morgan giggles, nodding her head to affirm.

Footsteps grow heavier outside of the door.

I want to ask her for the knife so I can put it through Beck's chest myself, but when I part my lips, he appears in the doorway.

The first thing he sees is Cleo's unresponsive body lying flat.

He groans, kicking her leg. "Good help is hard to find, am I right?"

He begins to pat her body down for the gun but it's not on her.

At the same time, Beck and I eye the pistol across the floor.

Because I'm supposed to still be tied up, I act like I'm struggling and give up as soon as Beck retrieves the weapon.

He points it at me, laughing. "Too slow."

"Beck..." Morgan distracts him.

"I left you without any clothes on," he notices, walking over to her. "did Cleo get jealous and want to cover you up?"

Morgan nods her head with innocence.

Beck pouts. "Well, she's not looking anymore. I am, and I want to see you naked in front of your little fiancé."

I'll kill him, my thoughts are fueled strictly by rage.

He squats before Morgan and puts the gun down so that he can untie her, but when she reaches behind her back, Morgan stabs him in it and pushes his body over.

"Run!" She tells me, holding the door open.

As badly as I wanted to stay behind and finish him myself, I know the door locks from the outside so if we shut him in, he won't be able to get out. The cops can deal with him.