Morgan's Tomorrow

By Cheryl L. Hyde

Morgan is a Mess!

 

Morgan is miserable, terrified, a drug addict, trapped in an abusive marriage. She has no job, no money, no friends, and her family isn't speaking to her. Isolated, trapped in an abusive, loveless marriage, and hooked on heroine she has nowhere to turn except to the one man she wants to get away from—her husband. She flees the hell that has become her normal only to find herself on the wrong side of the law and locked in jail, accused of crimes she didn't commit. She calls her sister for help, but doesn't really believe anyone will come to her rescue.

 

Where can she turn?

Who can she trust?

Can she find happiness?

 

Morgan soon finds herself in the fight of her life as she struggles to survive, battling demons to regain some semblance of the woman she once was and the life she dreams of living.

 

Can she conquer all the seemingly insurmountable obstacles to become the woman she desires?

Can she repair her past relationships with family and friends?

Can she ever trust herself and her feelings in order to find true love and happiness or will her past continue to haunt her?

 

What about her growing feelings for Travis?

Will she allow this handsome man, to help her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whisper Publications
• Release date: Aug 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781950598014

Cheryl L. Hyde

I make my home in the beautiful state of Colorado backed up against the Rocky Mountains. I live with my husband Anthony, and my rescue Blue Front Amazon parrot, Riley. I enjoy traveling, writing, painting, fitness, nature, visiting with friends, curling up with a good book, and the awesomeness of every day.Each new day is a blessing to be treasured!One of the greatest joys of writing is losing myself in the story—I may begin the story, but soon it is writing itself—sometimes taking me on a totally different journey than originally imagined. I find myself on a magical ride to new places, or reliving and reinventing places I've visited.I hope you enjoy my stories and please feel free to connect with me. I love to hear from my readers and fans. I feel very lucky to have connected with and made so many friends in this very special world we live.Through social media, especially my Twitter Tribe and Writers Community, I am blessed with a multitude of caring and wonderful friends who support me in so many ways—you are awesome!It is with heartfelt gratitude that I thank my readers and fans around the world. I feel extremely honored to be a part of your reading list.Visit me on Twitter at: @Cheryl_L_Hyde

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Copyright 2019 Cheryl L. Hyde

ISBN: 978-1-950598-01-4 eBook

ISBN: 978-1-950598-08-3 paperback 5x8 format

Whisper Publications UNITED STATES

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Cover design by Cheryl L. Hyde

eBook formatting by Cheryl L. Hyde

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This writing contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.

License Notes

This novel is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material, as this violates author’s rights. If you would like to share the eBook version with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, settings, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, names, business establishments, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Connect with Cheryl L. Hyde

Visit me on Twitter.com at: @Cheryl_L_Hyde

Chapter 01 Necessary Evil

NO! Stop! Please. I don’t want it, Morgan pleads, as the tourniquet tightens, almost painfully, on her thin arm. I don’t want this anymore. Morgan isn’t sure if she doesn’t want the drug or doesn’t want the pain. She only knows she doesn’t want to feel out of control anymore. She doesn’t want to be a prisoner in this place anymore. Sometimes, she doesn’t want to live anymore.

Her mind is fuzzy. Her body tormented. Her heart gallops and her lungs burn. Her throat is raw from vomiting and the vile taste of stomach acid burns her tongue and permeates her mouth, almost making her throw-up again. She swallows raggedly forcing the bile down. Her muscles and bones feel like they are on fire as explosive convulsions rage through her body. The pain is excruciating. She wants to just give up. She vaguely remembers a past that didn’t include this awful pain and sickness. It didn't include being strapped down.

The doctor smiles as his eyes bore into Morgan’s and he reaches into the pocket of his lab coat withdrawing something, holding it up in front of him. Morgan sees the small syringe filled with a clear liquid and struggles, trying to get away, only to find the restraints hold her firmly in place. She bucks her hips and twists her shoulders to no avail.

Why are you doing this? she sobs and gasps. Please don’t.

Her unfocused eyes search his for answers, as she desperately tries to focus her thoughts and her sight. She swallows bile, making a face as the vile acid burns her mouth and throat.

He smiles, but it is not the warm, reassuring smile a doctor should give. It seems calculated and cold—more evil than healing. You know you need this, Morgan. Deep inside, you know you want it. Can’t you feel your heart racing out of control? This will make it better. You’ll be able to breathe again in just a few minutes, without the awful pain. Now just lie back and relax. You’ll feel better soon. I promise. He expertly inserts the needle into the bulging vein on her arm. I’ll take care of you, he says, patting her arm. Don’t I always take care of you? the doctor croons ever so softly, smiling down at her.

Expertly depressing the small syringe, he releases the tourniquet, and the drug flows freely and quickly into Morgan’s body. Immediately, she begins to feel the effects, slowing her respiration and calming her racing heart. The muscle tremors lessen and her body relaxes for the first time in hours, or maybe days, she’s not sure. Morgan simply knows she’s grateful for the relief. An intense high followed by a relaxing feeling of serene control, filters through her mind, fogging the panic and overwhelming feelings of hopelessness.

‘Why did I fight this?’ she wonders.

She feels happy for the first time all day and questions again why she was fighting the injection. Morgan looks up into the doctor’s smiling face, but sees something else—insecurity, fear?

‘That can’t be right,’ she fleetingly thinks. The look is gone so quickly she decides she must have imagined it as she feels her eyes close.

She relaxes into the bed, letting the medication take her pain and fear away. She lies peacefully—languidly—floating in a drug-induced, altered world. Her mind simply drifts, never staying long on any one thought.

Only the word, ‘tomorrow’ whispers over and over repeatedly through her subconsciousness.

‘What about tomorrow? Does tomorrow ever come? Does tomorrow change anything? Will my life be any different tomorrow? Will I be able to escape tomorrow? Does hope come on the wings of tomorrow?’ Morgan wonders idly, then decides it doesn’t matter.

The needle and the restraints are slowly removed. Her wrists and hands are gently massaged before placing her folded arms over her chest, much like a body in a coffin is placed.

Smoothing the damp hair from her forehead, Dr. Crane asks, Isn’t that better, Morgan? Don't you feel better? He removes the ankle restraints and she pulls her knees up, rolling onto her side in a fetal position.

The question seems to come from far away and finally breaks through the haze of her mind. Morgan opens her eyes and looks into the questioning eyes of her doctor. Yes, she slowly answers. Better. Much, much better, she says slowly, making sure to articulate each word.

Turning her head slightly, Morgan smiles and sluggishly lifts an arm, reaching towards her husband’s face. She feels like she’s in a dream. Her arm feels very heavy—weighted down—and her fingers tremble slightly. Everything is moving so slowly. It takes her hand several seconds and a couple of tries to find his face. As she settles her hand along his smooth cheek, he folds his fingers over hers.

Matt kisses her palm then slowly lowers her arm, maintaining hold of her hand. Just relax, Baby. I’m here. I’ll be here always. I’ll always take care of you. I promise. He slowly lowers his lips to her brow and kisses her gently. I love you. I want you to feel better.

She stares into his eyes for several seconds, before she once again closes hers, letting the drug continue to wash through her system. The intense pain subsides and she begins to feel euphoric, almost normal again. Her body is no longer freezing and the tremors are lessening. Her muscles relax and she feels her body gratefully sinking into the soft mattress. She can breathe, in and out, slowly and controlled. Her thoughts seem slightly muddled, but she is feeling better.

Tomorrow, she whispers.

Matt covers her with the sheet and continues to sit next to her, holding her hand. He strokes his thumb slowly over the back of her hand. He glances at the bruises where the needles have penetrated her veins on numerous occasions and looks quickly away. He wishes things were different, but they are what they are. He knows soon she will be able to get out of bed and slowly go about her limited daily activities. That’s it, Baby. Just relax and let the drug do its thing, he murmurs.

Morgan sighs in response to Matt’s softly spoken, reassuring words. She feels lucky to have a husband that is there for her, to support her. She doesn’t realize she has vomited all over herself until the unmistakable odor permeates her drug-addled brain. She sniffs and curls her nose.

I stink. She tries to sit up, but finds it’s impossible to coordinate her movements.

Matt slips a hand behind her shoulders, careful not to touch the vomit, and helps her to sit up. Let’s get these dirty clothes off of you and get you cleaned up, he offers, as he fights the nearly overwhelming urge to vomit. The vile acid odor almost causes him to hurl his lunch. He swallows noisily. Would you like that?

Morgan nods. Yes, thank you, she says slowly. You are so good to me. She tries to help Matt remove her clothing, but her muscles are not working fast enough. It is like she is moving at half speed.

I’m sorry, she mumbles and gives up trying to help. She needs him to undress her much like a baby needs its parent.

It’s okay. I’ve got you.

Clothes finally off, Matt carries Morgan to the bathroom and gently settles her into the lightly scented, warm water. She burrows into the bubbles, inhaling the sweet fragrance and exhaling a soft sigh. She smiles.

You just sit back and relax. I’ll toss these into the washer and be right back. Then I’ll help you with your bath and wash your hair.

Morgan nods again. Talking seems too difficult. She sinks deeper, relaxing into the water and closes her eyes. The bubbles tickle her chin as the water gently, silkily, nuzzles her neck.

‘Tomorrow,’ whispers through her brain, but she doesn’t have the strength to analyze its meaning. The bath feels heavenly and she sinks into the deep soaking tub. Her arms float up, resting on the water’s surface.

She hears Matt stripping the bed and follows the pitter-patter of his footsteps, as he heads down the hall to the laundry room. She lets her body rest, thankful for the drug that takes away the uncontrollable pain and sickness, allowing her to function. She sighs and takes a deep breath, pulling the scent of jasmine into her lungs, and waits for Matt to return.

Bath time over and her hair freshly washed, Morgan is grateful for Matt’s help. He massages body lotion into her soft skin. Thank you so much, Matt. I feel almost human again. She smiles and lifts onto her toes, kissing his cheek shyly, serenely.

Matt pulls her close for a long, slow kiss, deepening it until Morgan feels her body respond. She stiffly presses herself against Matt, flattening her breasts against his chest.

Wrapping his hands under her butt, he lifts her tighter against his throbbing sex, feeling her warmth enveloping him. He changes the kiss to an almost violent mating of their mouths.

I want you. Don't disappoint me, he growls and shoves his tongue deep into her mouth. His hands grip her head, twisting it into a more accessible position.

Morgan turns the gag that threatens to erupt into a long sigh and wraps her arms more tightly around his neck. She hopes she survives through this night until tomorrow.

‘Tomorrow,’ she promises herself, not knowing what she is promising, but certain tomorrow must be better than today.

Chapter 02 Landing a Big One

REEL him in. Nice and slow. That’s the way. Easy. Feed him a little line. Entice him. There you go. Now reel him in. Perfect! Great job, Honey! Declan softly coaches, then praises Skylar. Look at the size of this trout!

Skylar is beaming. While proud of having caught the fish, she is more proud of her husband’s praise.

I guess we’ll be having trout after all for dinner tonight. Hey, Dec, you get to clean the sucker! she says quickly, before Declan can beat her to the punch.

I guess the least I can do is clean it, Dec agrees, grinning at his beautiful wife. Want to learn how?

No thanks. I’ll just eat it after you make the fire and cook it, she giggles. I found some berries earlier that we can have for dessert, plus I’m making biscuits and fire-grilled potatoes.

Sounds great! He walks over and pulls his lovely wife into his arms and kisses her soundly, right in the middle of the icy cold river.

She’s still holding the net with the big, beautiful rainbow trout nestled inside. She starts to put her arms around Dec’s neck, when the fish decides to fidget. It flips its tail, hitting Declan in the middle of his back. She grumbles, I guess we better get this guy out of the water and into that frying pan. He’s all yours, she  smiles, shoving the net into Dec’s hands. I’m going to start on biscuits. She wades out of the river and wiggles enticingly out of her waders.

A low, soft growl travels up his chest, into his throat, and out his mouth as Dec watches Sky’s firm, round butt sway side to side as she climbs the small embankment. I’ll be up shortly, he rasps.

He then sets to accomplishing the task he’s been given. Walking back to their campsite a short while later, he yells for Sky to come out.

Hey Sky, he was a she. I have caviar, he calls in his deep baritone.

Yuck! No thanks, she yells from inside the tent. I got the air mattresses inflated and the fire going.

I see that. Thanks. Let me just get this ta cookin’, he says, falling into what Sky calls his hillbilly drawl.

She crawls out of their tent and strolls over to Dec, wrapping her arms around his trim waist. She lays her cheek against his broad upper back. I’m glad we came camping for our three-year anniversary.

Dec turns and folds her into his muscular arms. He is always amazed at how strong she is for being such a little thing. Her head doesn’t quite reach his shoulders and his fingers can span her waist.

He feels like he’s on top of the world when he holds her or looks into her eyes and especially when he makes love with her. She is his life, his other half, and they fit together perfectly.

Her luminous, bright green eyes lock onto his deep, sapphire ones. She smiles up at him and he settles his lips softly over hers, kissing her long and sweetly, the heat fanning and spreading through their bodies. His lips coax and tease hers.

She delicately whimpers and seeks entrance into his mouth, which he willingly gives. Letting her tongue swirl and explore his mouth at leisure, she marvels in the taste and texture that is her husband. Breaking the kiss after several sensuous seconds, she looks into his eyes and whispers, I love you.

I love you, Sky. He starts to lower his head again, but the fish picks that moment to release oils into the flames, causing them to crackle and flare. The fire flames higher and Dec releases Sky to tend to their dinner.

He expertly flips the fish, settling it over the hot coals to continue cooking. Sky adjusts the biscuits on the opposite side of the fire, seating the pan into the warm embers. There's nothing like a fire roasted meal.

Swiping her tongue over her lips, Sky declares, I think that was the best fish I have ever eaten. Course it took all afternoon to catch her, so I was starving!

Catching and eating your first fresh caught fish is always a treat, Dec agrees. He dresses the fire, making sure it is completely out for the evening. Don’t want any sparks starting a forest fire. Fighting fires is what Declan does for a living, so he is extra careful when they go into nature for some camping. Sky lets him handle the fire control since he is the expert.

Sitting on a fallen log under the darkening sky, their bellies full, and night descending, they relish in simply being with each other. Dec’s arm is draped around Sky’s shoulders and her head rests against his chest.

Look, there’s the first star of the night! Sky points.

Make a wish.

My wish has already come true. She smiles up at her husband and slowly stands. She begins walking towards their tent. Looking back over her shoulder, she pulls her shirt off over her head, silently inviting him to join her.

Needing no further encouragement, Dec is on his feet and to the tent in three steps. He holds the flap for her to precede him into their private sanctuary.

They love this romantic escape partially for its solitude and partially because it is the site of their first excursion into the wilderness together. Although their RV is close at hand in case of inclement weather, they prefer their small, intimate tent.

It is the same tent they shared during their first camping trip. Their two black labs are snuggled close by, while their two Amazon parrots are safely ensconced in the RV, already asleep for the night.

Sky and Dec remain cocooned in their tent enjoying the pleasures of the other’s body. Their sighs and moans drift on the evening air mingling with the calls of night birds and the yapping of coyotes on the far bluffs. A faraway wolf sends up a forlorn yowl that is answered by its mate. Sleeping little and loving often, the couple treasure the time spent in each other’s arms.

Emerging from their private world just as the sun begins to paint the eastern horizon with a multitude of pinks and yellows, they quickly make their way to the bluff overlooking the lush valley. Relishing in the cool morning air and the magnificent highlighted sky, they marvel at the world around them.

The two dogs sandwich Dec and Sky between them, leaning in shoulder to shoulder. All is right in their world.

Chapter 03 Long Week

POPPING the top on a beer, Kaelyn hands the can to her husband, as he plops comfortably into the Adirondack chair with a heavy sigh. It’s been a long, trying week and they are both looking forward to their first weekend off together in a month. She opens another beer and takes a long sip, enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid as it slides down her throat.

Oh man, this hits the spot. She sighs and leans back into the chair.

You’ll get no argument from me, Edgar agrees and takes a long, deep draw, gulping the icy cold brew. He burps rather loudly and grins sheepishly.

Ahhh, he exhales.

Kaelyn giggles then punches him in the arm. You’ll give the kids ideas. She looks over at their two boys, Brantley and Easton, playing quietly close-by. Absorbed in building his fort, Brant doesn’t hear the loud burp and Easton is still too young to care.

Sorry. Good beer! Man, what a bitch of a week! Court was brutal and unfortunately we’ll be back on the same case next week. Kaelyn takes her husband’s hand in sympathy and leans over to kiss him. They talk about his upcoming caseload for a few minutes then he asks about her work.

My week was also nasty, a total week from hell. I'm glad it’s over and that I survived, she says quietly with a small smile. Then remembering, she states, Oh, that reminds me, I saw Morgan’s husband in the ER today. I’m still not sure what he was doing there, but there he was. He seriously gives me the creeps.

Was he working?

I guess so. He seemed to be getting some pain meds from the locked cabinet. Probably for one of his cardiac patients, although most doctors get their meds from the cardiac center, not our ER.

Did he stop and talk or say how Morgan is doing?

She shakes her head. Nope. He actually seemed to be avoiding me. I was treating a little girl who had fallen from a tree and broken her wrist. I swear he looked right at me before quickly looking away then changing course and waddling off down the hallway on his strange little legs. What Morgan sees in him, I’ll never know.

Kaelyn looks at her handsome nearly six foot tall husband with the perfect physique and sighs. I am so lucky to have you, she murmurs.

Edgar gazes at his wife, loving her just as much now as the day he married her. Her warm brown, almond shaped eyes glisten with love and unspoken promises of what the evening holds. He lets his hand lightly trace the contours of her heart shaped face then her sensuous mouth with its full, pouty lower lip and luscious upper one. She leans her cheek into his palm, her eyes still fixed on his.

I am the lucky one, he whispers and leans in, kissing her deeply. Mmm. Sweeter than beer, he remarks, licking his lips, his gold-flecked caramel eyes twinkling.

Why don’t you give your sister a call? Put your mind at ease. You’ve been talking about her for several weeks. I think you should talk with her.

Kaelyn ponders his suggestion for several seconds. Maybe I will tomorrow. I’d like to talk with her. But not tonight.Tonight is just for us. She takes another drink of her beer. I better get the kids cleaned up and fed so we can put them to bed. After that the evening is ours, she adds with a twinkle in her eye.

Edgar’s face lights, a grin spreading,