Page 34 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
Alina moves around the kitchen, the confidence in her movements creating a strange tension in my chest. Even in borrowed clothes, she moves like she owns the space.
"Try not to break any more doors," Jax calls over his shoulder as he heads out. "Makes us look unprofessional."
I flip him off without looking away from the monitor. "Make sure the perimeter's secure before you leave."
"Already done." He pauses at the door. "Oh, and Ghost? That woman in there? She's not some timid informant you can intimidate. You push, she's gonna push right back."
He chuckles. "Should be fun to watch."
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with the monitors and my thoughts. Jax is right about one thing—Alina isn't easily intimidated. That quality makes her both frustrating and... fascinating.
I stand, my muscles protesting after sitting for so long. Part of me admires her persistence. It's the same drive that makes her a good reporter. But right now, it's also the quality most likely to get her killed.
I find Alina already sipping from a steaming mug when I enter the kitchen. When she notices me, her lips curl up slightly.
That little grin throws me off balance—it affects me more than I'd like to admit. She's changed into jeans and a t-shirt that hugs her curves.
"Morning, Ghost," she says, my callsign rolling off her tongue like we're old friends. "And thanks for the new clothes. How'd you figure out my size?"
I shrug, avoiding her gaze. "Wasn't me."
Her laugh catches me off guard. It's light and genuine, not what I expected from someone who's been through hell.
"Oh really? Is that information classified, Ghost?" she asks, her tone playful and challenging. Her eyes glint with that defiance that makes my hands itch to grab her.
"Looks like all you need is coffee to be tolerable," my voice comes out rougher than intended.
Alina's eyebrow arches. "Pot, meet kettle. You look like you haven't slept at all." Her gaze travels over me, lingering just a beat too long. "Too busy smashing down doors?"
My eyes tighten to slits. Fucking Jax can never keep quiet when he should. I grab a mug and pour a cup of coffee for myself.
"Has Nitro been running his mouth about shit you already know? Like some damn teenager passing notes in class?"
"He mentioned something about you having control issues," she says casually, but there's a spark in her eyes that tells me she's deliberately pushing my buttons.
"Are all your teammates that chatty, or just him?"
"Nitro talks too much," I growl, turning to face her. "And you ask too many questions."
She leans against the counter, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "That's literally my job. Speaking of which—any luck figuring out who was shooting at us?"
I take a slow sip, studying her over the rim. "No. Whoever it was knew how to avoid the cameras."
Her expression shifts to something more serious. "That's not typical for your average criminal, is it?"
"No," I admit. "Which means we're dealing with someone who knows what they're doing."
"Connected to what happened to Roman and Jenny?" she asks, her reporter's curiosity kicking in.
I set my mug down. "Possibly."
She steps closer. "Then I need to see your investigation files. If there's a connection to Jenny's case—"
"You don't need to see anything," I cut her off. "What you need to do is stay put and let my team handle this."
Her jaw sets stubbornly. "I've been working this story for months. I have connections, sources—"
"And now you have people trying to kill you," I snap. "This isn't some corporate corruption story you can solve with public records and witness interviews."
