Page 50 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
He moves to one of the monitors, his fingers flying over a keyboard. Images flash across the screen—surveillance photos, documents, maps covered in annotations.
"We're not the bad guys here, Alina," he says finally, his voice softer than before, though no less commanding. "But we're not exactly the good guys either. We operate in the gray areas, doing what needs to be done."
I move towards the displays, their data pulling me in.
Suddenly, I'm back in my office two years ago, the phone slipping from my numb fingers as Detective Wilson's words echo. "I'm sorry, Alina. Jenny's body was found this morning."
My stomach lurches violently and I barely make it to the trash can before emptying its contents, acid burning my throat. Shaking, I wipe my mouth and force myself back to the present moment.
"And Jenny? Was she one of those people you were trying to protect?"
Ghost's shoulders tense. "We didn't know about her until it was too late. But now that we do, we're not going to let her death be in vain."
My throat tightens, constricting as if gripped by invisible fingers. "So what now? You can't expect me to just sit back and do nothing while you investigate."
He turns to face me, his expression intense. "What I expect is for you to understand the gravity of the situation. Your skills as a journalist could be valuable, but they could also get you killed if you're not careful."
"I'm not afraid," I say, lifting my chin defiantly.
A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I believe you. That's what worries me."
We leave the room and Ghost guides me down the hallway, his hand hovering near the small of my back without actually touching me. Even in my exhausted state, I'm acutely aware of his presence.
"You need rest," he says, his voice low and firm. "We have a lot to discuss, but it can wait until morning."
I want to argue, but my body betrays me with a massive yawn. "Fine, but don't think I'm letting this go."
He opens a door, revealing a simple but comfortable-looking bedroom. "I wouldn't expect anything less, little hellcat."
I step inside, taking in the neutral decor and plush bedding. It's nicer than I expected for a safe house, but I'm learning these guys don't do anything halfway.
"Ghost" I turn to face him, curiosity overriding my fatigue. "Before you go, can you at least give me something? Any information about what's really going on here?"
He leans against the doorframe, his massive frame filling the space. His blue eyes study me for a long moment before he speaks.
"Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning, I promise."
I cross my arms, frustration bubbling up. "That's not good enough. My friend is dead, people are shooting at us, and once again I'm stuck in some secret safe house with a bunch of... whatever you guys are. I deserve answers."
"And you'll get them," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. He steps close again, those impossible blue eyes holding mine captive. "But not tonight."
I reach out, grabbing his forearm. The hard muscle beneath my fingers reminds me of just how dangerous this man truly is.
"How am I supposed to trust you?"
His gaze drops to my hand on his arm, then back to my face. "You shouldn't." A hint of a smile touches his lips. "But you will."
I snatch my hand back like I've been burned. "Don't count on it."
Then a thought strikes me. "Wait, my family. I need to let them know I'm okay. They're used to me disappearing for work, but by now they'll be worried."
Ghost's expression remains hard, but he nods. "Give me a minute."
He disappears down the hallway, returning moments later with a sleek black phone. "It's untraceable. You can send one message, then I need it back." His voice is all business, but his eyes linger on my face a moment too long.
I take the phone, our fingers brushing. A jolt of electricity passes between us that has nothing to do with static, and I quickly pull my hand away.
"Thank you," I mumble, suddenly very aware of how the air between us seems charged with something I'm not ready to name.
