Chapter 32
The Jeep's engine hummed as the city blurred past, sunlight and shadow streaming through the windows. Torch drove with practiced ease, hands relaxed on the wheel, weaving through traffic like it was second nature. Ghost remained alert.
His jaw was clenched, eyes constantly moving across sidewalks, side streets, reflections in glass towers. But his fingers stayed laced with hers.
She watched him from the corner of her eye, still on guard, still protecting her. She squeezed his hand gently.
He glanced at her. "You okay?" His voice dropped.
Rachel managed a tired smile. "I think I should be asking you that."
His mouth curved slightly. "I'm not the one who had to climb down a balcony in a nightgown."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You really aren't going to let that go, are you?"
"Not a chance."
That half-smile did something to her. It wasn't carefree or easy. It was the expression of someone who'd survived more than most people could imagine and still found reasons to smile anyway.
She shifted closer, exhaustion pulling at her. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he adjusted slightly, letting her settle against him. He was solid, warm, steady. Safe.
For the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.
She closed her eyes, letting the hum of the road and the rhythm of his breathing settle her. "Thank you for coming for me," she whispered.
His fingers squeezed hers. "You really think I wouldn't?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "This is a lot. I didn't want to drag you into—"
"Stop." His voice was quiet but certain. "You didn't drag me into anything. I chose this." He paused. "You matter to me, Rachel."
She lifted her head, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. All she found was honesty.
His hand came up, brushing along her cheek. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering. Rachel leaned into his palm.
He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. "I'm not letting them take you."
The words landed hard, then he kissed her temple, slow and deliberate, and something in her chest loosened.
Ghost stayed still beside her, their hands linked.
In the front seat, Torch glanced at the rearview mirror. His mouth curved.
"So..." Torch dragged out the word. "When were you gonna tell us, Ghost?"
Ghost didn't look up. "Tell you what?"
“Oh, I don’t know,” Torch drawled out, “That you’ve got it bad for the hot journalist you just went full knight-in-tactical-armor for?”
Echo snorted. “Dude risked everything in under five hours. That’s some record-breaking attachment.”
Rachel shifted slightly, but Ghost didn’t let her go far. His arm stayed firm, grounding, not restricting. Possessive without pressure.
He sighed, finally meeting their smirking faces in the front seat. “Shut the hell up.”
Torch laughed. “No chance, man.”
Echo turned slightly in his seat to glance back. “Glad you’re okay, Parker. That got real messy, real fast.”
Rachel offered a tired smile. “Thanks, Echo. Yeah... it really did.”
Torch nodded. “Gotta say—you’ve got guts. Most people would’ve folded back there, but you didn’t.”
She smirked, dry. Honest. “I wouldn’t call it handling it. More like barely surviving it.”
Ghost’s voice cut in before anyone else could answer, low and certain. “You did more than survive.”
Rachel turned to him, caught off guard by the conviction in his voice.
Before she could speak, Torch let out a mock gasp, hand to his chest. “Oh my god. Did you hear that, Echo? He cares.”
Ghost didn’t blink. “Say one more word, and I’m throwing you out of a moving vehicle.”
Echo chuckled. “Alright, lover boy, but seriously… where are we heading?”
The shift was instant. Laughter faded. Mission instincts returned. “We can’t go back to base.”
Torch nodded, face tightening. “Yeah. If this goes up the chain… if any of ours are in on it…”
Echo finished it. “We’d be walking right into a setup.”
“My place,” Ghost said.
Torch blinked, then looked at him in the mirror. “Your place? The super secret Ghost hide-away?”
“It’s a secure location and backs up to the bay. Nobody gets close without a warning.”
Echo was already on his phone. “I’ll ping the team. Get them moving.”
Rachel straightened, watching them work in unison, fast and wordless. “Your team—”
“They’re family,” Ghost said simply. “If something’s going down, they need to know. And if I trust anyone to watch our six, it’s them.”
Rachel understood what he wasn't saying. He was bringing her into his world, his safe place with the people he trusted most.
His hand squeezed hers, thumb moving slowly across her knuckles. She squeezed back.
Torch shook his head as he took the onramp toward Coronado. "Damn. She's really got you."
Ghost settled back against the seat. "Keep talking and you're swimming to the island."
Torch laughed and accelerated.
Rachel leaned into Ghost's side, letting exhaustion finally catch up with her. The engine hummed. His presence was solid and warm beside her. For the first time in days, she felt safe. Really safe.
Ghost glanced down at her, feeling the way she'd stopped fighting to stay alert. Letting him handle it. He'd carry this weight as long as she needed him to. Longer, if she'd let him.