Page 34 of Code Name: Ghost

The words hit like a slap, and I feel the sting deep in my chest. “My mess?” I echo, my voice trembling with anger. “Is that how you see me? As some burden you’ve been forced to carry?”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t answer.

“Say it,” I whisper, stepping so close our breath mingles. “If that’s really how you feel... then say it.”

His jaw tightens, a flicker of something raw flashing across his face before he looks away. For a moment, the silence stretches, heavy with everything he doesn’t want to say. Then he forces the words out, low and rough.

“You think this is about you? About me?” He shakes his head, the movement small, almost like he’s trying to shake something loose inside himself. “It’s bigger than that, Cherise. Bigger than either of us.”

He meets my gaze, and the look in his eyes guts me—like every word costs him more than he can afford to give.

“If anything happens to you...” His voice catches for half a second before he steadies it. “It won’t just break me. It’ll bury everything I’m fighting to protect. My team. Innocent lives. The mission.”

He exhales, slow and heavy, like the weight of protecting me is something he can barely carry—and letting me go would kill him even faster.

The truth of it lands heavily, but I don’t look away. I can’t.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I say, my voice trembling but steady. “But I’m in it. With you. Whether or not you like it.”

His gaze softens just enough. Enough to tell me I haven’t lost him—yet.

“That doesn’t mean you’re ready for it,” he replies, his tone softening just enough to make me want to scream.

“Why do you care so much?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Because you matter to me, dammit. You always have. I’ve never stopped caring, Cherise.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I want to believe him, but the pain of the past—the betrayal, the years of silence—it all rushes back, threatening to drown me.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” I say, my voice shaking.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he says, his tone laced with frustration. “I had to leave, Cherise. Had to. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

“Do you have any idea what it did to me?” I snap, my anger flaring again.

The room falls silent, the weight of my words hanging between us. He looks at me, his hazel eyes searching mine, and for the first time, I see the cracks in his resolve.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he says finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

My chest tightens, and I take a step closer, my anger giving way to something softer, something more dangerous. “Then stop pushing me away.”

His eyes drop to my lips, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. My breath catches, the space between us electric.

But then he steps back, the mask slipping back into place. “I need to get back to work,” he says, his voice colder now. “We’ll figure out our next move when I’m done. Why don’t you make us something to eat?”

I watch him turn and walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet safe house. My fists clench at my sides, frustration and longing warring inside me.

Nick might be the most infuriating man I’ve ever known, but he’s also the only one who makes me feel like this—alive, seen, and maddeningly out of control.

As I retreat to my room dismissing the thought of food right now, one thought lingers in my mind: if he thinks I’m going to back down, he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.

* * *

I’ve spent the last hour pacing my room, replaying the argument with Nick over and over. His words replay like a scratched record.

The heat of anger from our fight hasn’t cooled, but beneath it is a deeper frustration—one born not just from his dismissiveness but from the truth laced in his confession. He’s right. I’m not trained for this. But I’m also not weak, and I refuse to let him treat me like I’m some damsel in distress.

The thought of proving myself to him fills me with determination. But it’s more than that. I’m tired of the walls between us, the constant push and pull, the unspoken tension that feels like it’s ready to snap at any moment. If I want him to trust me, I have to take the first step.

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