Little_Mazar
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Evelin Walsh had spent eight years in the army. Died once and came back, without her family knowing about her military service. And when her brother gets shitfaced drunk, who'll call her? Soap's "friend," Ghost. And Evelin wished she'd never answered that call.
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He jerked in the brutal hold, wide eyes locked on the dark balaclava.
“Simon… what the hell are you doing?” MacTavish’s voice cracked into a hoarse, pathetic whisper. Instinctively, he pressed his palms against the hard plate of the other man’s vest, trying to push him away, but his hands only trembled weakly. “You’re joking, right? This is some kind of joke?..”
Ghost didn’t smirk. Didn’t pull away even an inch. His eyes beneath the mask remained terrifyingly serious — black, unblinking voids devoid of even a trace of amusement.
Sensing the panic radiating off the sergeant, the lieutenant moved to calm him down.
Only, he did it in his own twisted, brutal way.Bookmarked by Little_Mazar
14 May 2026