Page 39 of Rescued By the Alpha SEAL
The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low but urgent. "We need to talk about G."
"You want to talk?" I lean forward, voice sharp as snapped steel. "Let's trade. You tell me about Blackout, I'll tell you about G. Simple math—your secrets for mine."
G?
I know zilch about G's identity. Just that he's hell-bent on silencing me about Blackout.
Somehow, Logan's convinced I've got answers.
Perfect.
This gives me leverage.
Chalk it up to reporter instincts—never reveal your hand too soon. Especially when you have a good guess on who orders G.
G is probably a hired gun—one of those government contractors who handle the dirty work when things need to stay off official records.
The connection? A classified op called "Blackout" I'd been digging into before he showed up.
The official story claims Blackout was a hostage rescue in North Africa.
Clean. Simple. Heroic.
But my intel suggests a darker truth—the real target was a whistleblower they wanted silenced. Permanently.
Then the whole op vanished. No paper trail. No witnesses. The hostages, the operatives, the mission itself—all scrubbed from existence like they never existed.
That's what burns me up.
The elite can just erase their crimes while everyone else faces justice. So much for equality under the law.
But truth? Truth cuts through those lies like a knife.
And I've got the blade.
"We could keep circling like sharks until one of us bleeds out."
His stare bores into me. Message received—I'm the designated bleeder.
"Your choice."
Perfect. Another ultimatum.
I've spent days watching him—the way he moves, the way he thinks, the way he protects without hesitation. Part of me wants to trust him. But trust is what got my source killed. Trust is what made me think I could outrun this.
No.
I won't surrender my only card without backup insurance.
Logan turns, fixing me with that storm-gray stare that sees too much. He steps closer, and suddenly the kitchen feels smaller. His presence radiates heat and intensity, making me acutelyaware of the counter at my back, the diminishing space between us.
"We can't let him keep the upper hand," he says. "We need to plan our next move carefully. Gather intel, secure the perimeter."
I shake my head, a bitter laugh catching in my throat. "You don't understand. He's not just some enemy you can outsmart with military precision." My fingers curl around the edge of the counter. "He's ruthless, and he's got resources you can't imagine."
Logan's jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. "And you think running is going to save you? That worked so well the last time, didn't it?"
