Guarded by the outlaw
“That’s because I do.”
Ghost stared at him for a long moment at the defiance, the warmth, the quiet courage that hadn’t burned out despite everything. He should’ve hated him for it. Instead, all he could think about was how it felt to finally breathe around him again.
He stood, needing distance. “Get some sleep, Luca.”
Luca tilted his head. “You’ll still be here when I wake up?”
Ghost hesitated. Then, quietly: “Yeah. I’ll be here.”
When Luca finally leaned back and closed his eyes, Ghost sat in the chair near the window, gun on the table, moonlight brushing his scar. He told himself he was guarding a suspect.
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