Page 37 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
My heart leaps. "You know about Jenny?"
Blade nods slowly. "We keep tabs on certain... situations. Her death raised some red flags."
I turn back to Ghost, hope surging through me.
"See? This is all connected. You can't shut me out of this investigation."
Ghost's jaw clenches, conflict clear in his eyes. He towers over me, using his considerable size to remind me of the power imbalance between us.
"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice level, "I get that you're trying to protect me. But I'm already involved, whether you like it or not. And I have skills that could help."
Ghost's eyebrows furrow slightly. I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options.
Frost steps forward, his voice cool and clipped like winter ice. "We don't have time for this debate. Every second spent arguing decreases operational effectiveness by approximately twelve percent."
I blink at the oddly specific calculation, turning to face him. There's something about the way he carries himself that screams 'military precision' to me.
"Frost is right," Blade chimes in, each word carefully selected. "We need to focus on the primary objective. Time constraints are significant."
Primary objective? Time constraints?My fingers itch for a keyboard, a notebook, anything to document these details. There's clearly more going on here than just a simple protection detail.
Saint, who's been quietly assessing the situation, speaks up. "Perhaps we should consider her potential value as an asset. If she's connected to the Martinez case, she might possess information outside our current intelligence framework."
I shoot him a grateful look, noticing the way his green eyes seem to take in everything at once. There's something fluid about him, a way of bending without breaking that makes Ghost's iron grip over everything seem almost brittle by comparison.
Nitro, still lounging against the counter, grins broadly. "I say we keep her. She's feisty. I like that in a woman."
His words come rapid-fire, matching his apparent need for constant movement as he fidgets with a knife, flipping it between his fingers.
Ghost's head whips around, fixing Nitro with a glare that could freeze a man in place. "Watch it," he growls, voice dropping an octave.
Interesting.I file away that reaction for later analysis. Ghost's possessiveness suggests something beyond professional concern.
"Look," I address the group. "I'm not asking to be part of your... whatever this is." I gesture vaguely at their tactical gear. "But I might see connections you don't. And I'm not going to just sit on the sidelines while you investigate something that might be connected to Jenny's death."
Ghost steps closer, using his height to tower over me. The move is deliberately intimidating, but I refuse to back away.
"You think this is a game?" His voice is low, dangerous. "People are dying, Alina. This isn't some story you can chase for a byline."
"You think I don't know that?" I snap back, temper flaring. "Jenny isn't just a headline to me. She was my responsibility."
Something shifts in Ghost's expression—recognition, maybe even respect.
The men exchange glances, another silent conversation passing between them. I watch, fascinated by their non-verbal communication.
Ghost sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he says finally. "But you follow our lead. No going off on your own, no contacting anyone without clearing it with me first. Got it?"
I nod, trying to hide my excitement. "Got it."
"This is a bad idea," Frost mutters, but doesn't argue further. His dark eyes assess me with clinical detachment.
As the team unpacks their gear, I admire the way they move around each other, perfectly in sync. There's a rhythm to their actions, a well-practiced dance that speaks of years working together.
But there's something else, too. A tension underlying their easy camaraderie. I catch Ghost watching Nitro witha furrowed brow, and Frost keeps throwing wary glances my way.
What have I gotten myself into?But as I think about Jenny, about the truth waiting to be uncovered, I know I'm exactly where I need to be.
"Sweep the ground floor," Ghost orders, his voice low and commanding. "Check for any signs of intrusion or surveillance."
