How to Love the Stars | Ghost (Simon Riley)

Chapter 19

A/N: I know everybody waited very long for this chapter, sorry about that. Thanks for reading!!!

Dread turned Ghost's blood cold, the thought of her lifeless body flashing in his mind as he increased his pace.

Ghost's grip tightened on the grip of his silenced pistol, his senses razor-sharp as he approached the scene. There she was, trapped by the sinister soldier, her eyes locking onto Ghost's as he burst into the corridor. The soldier's grip on Althea's hair momentarily loosened as he assessed the new threat.

Ghost didn't hesitate. With a speed and precision born of countless missions, he raised his pistol and fired a single shot. The bullet found its mark, striking the soldier's hand and forcing him to release Althea with a cry of pain.

Althea staggered back, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon. Ghost stepped forward, shielding her as he kept his aim trained on the wounded soldier.

"You're outmatched," Ghost's voice was icy and unwavering, his eyes locked onto the soldier's. "Drop your weapon."

The soldier, his hand stained crimson, lingered in a momentary hesitation before yielding to the inevitable. With a resounding clatter, his weapon surrendered to gravity's pull, and his hands ascended in a gesture of surrender. Althea, her heart still a wild drumbeat in her chest, retreated a step, her eyes transformed into saucers brimming with a cocktail of gratitude and relief. A hair's breadth away from a living nightmare, salvation had descended just in time, bearing the name Ghost.

Ghost didn't lower his weapon, his unwavering gaze never leaving the man. "Get on your knees," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The soldier just looked at him, not moving. Ghost raised his voice, like a sharp knife slicing through air. "Are you fucking deaf? I said, kneel!" Ruthless. It reverberated through the room, baring a glimpse of the merciless spirit he had forged on distant battlefields. Unyielding. This was no longer the Ghost who had tenderly bound Althea's wounds. This was the Ghost who returned from missions cloaked in the blood of others.

The soldier quickly dropped to his knees, his hands on his head. Ghost pushed the gun to the soldier's forehead. This time his voice was a low growl, spoken through gritted teeth. "You fucking shitbag. The only reason I'm not going to blow your fucking brains out is because I want you to remember this. If you ever touch her again, you'll wish I killed you now." He narrowed his eyes at him. "I'll make sure of it." Ghost fought to quell the tempest within him, a pulsing vein in his neck serving as a silent testament to his struggle.

Ghost kept his weapon trained on the defeated soldier as he spoke into his comm unit. "Soap, I've got Althea. We're clear for now. Continue with the mission."

Relief flooded the communication channel as Soap's voice crackled back to life. "Copy that, Ghost. Be careful."

He gave him one last scalding glare before punching him in the face, knocking him unconscious with one strike. With the immediate threat neutralized, Ghost lowered his weapon and turned his attention to Althea. He could see the residual shock evident in those beautiful dark eyes.

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Althea had never been shot before. She had been grazed before, but never a direct shot. It was embarrassing, she knew. That was why when she had bit the soldier's hand, and he had, in turn, shot her in the wrist, she couldn't comprehend what was going on. At first, it felt as if someone had struck her. It wasn't actually too painful, but that was likely due to adrenaline.

She felt so utterly useless, just standing there as Ghost handled everything for her. She gritted her teeth, clenching a fist. She probably looked so weak. That someone needed to protect her on a mission. She couldn't even plant a few charges without needing Ghost to save her. The more time that went on, the more the adrenaline wore off, bringing her attention back to the wound on her wrist.

As he turned to her, she mustered up her most believable smile, albeit weak and brittle, it was the best she could do right now. When he saw how she was holding her arm behind her back, he knew immediately.

"I'm going to go put up the rest of the charge-"

He interrupted her. "Give me your arm. You've been shot."

Althea shook her head. "I'll wrap it later."

Ghost's sharp eyes didn't miss the way Althea was trying to downplay her injury. He could see the subtle signs of discomfort in her eyes, and the way she held her wounded wrist behind her back was a clear indicator that the pain was starting to set in.

"I'm not leaving that wound untreated," Ghost stated firmly, his voice brooking no argument. He reached for her injured wrist gently but firmly, examining it. "It might not be too serious, but we can't afford to have you lose blood or get an infection in the middle of a mission."

Althea sighed, realizing Ghost wouldn't budge. She nodded reluctantly, allowing him to guide her to a nearby wall. Ghost pulled out his first-aid kit and took out the necessary materials. He fixed his eyes on hers, still holding her injured wrist.

"Sorry. This is going to hurt a bit,"

He began to clean and dress the wound. Althea winced again, but this time, she didn't protest. She couldn't deny that she needed the help. The wound seemed clean and relatively small. She thought it wouldn't make a difference whether it was treated now or later.

As Ghost worked, Althea's frustration grew. She felt a mix of anger and embarrassment that she had put herself in this position, needing his assistance. She was determined to prove herself capable, not just to Ghost but to herself as well.

When Ghost finished bandaging her wrist, he met her eyes with a stern but caring expression. "You're not weak for needing help, Whisper. We're a team, and we look out for each other. That's how we survive."

Althea wanted to argue, to assert her independence, but the sincerity in Ghost's eyes made it difficult. She nodded in reluctant agreement. "I understand, but I can handle myself."

Ghost didn't push the issue further at that moment. Instead, he holstered his weapon and glanced down the corridor. "We need to continue with the mission. But this time, we're sticking together. No more solo missions. Besides, wouldn't want that pretty face of yours to get hurt." She could see him smirking behind his mask. "I'm still prettier than you though."

Ignoring his attempts at a playful conversation, Althea was about to protest, but Ghost didn't give her the chance. He took her uninjured hand and began to move down the corridor, leading her along with him. She resisted, digging her heels in.

"Ghost, I can't just follow you like a helpless child," Althea protested, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

Ghost stopped and turned to face her, his eyes locked onto hers. "I'm not treating you like a child. I'm doing this because I don't want to lose you for no reason."

Her cheeks warmed a bit, and Althea opened her mouth to argue, but the determination in Ghost's gaze silenced her. She knew he was right, and her pride had to take a backseat to their safety.

With a reluctant nod, she conceded. "Fine, we'll stick together." 

"Plus, for your information, I'm sure that I'm much prettier than you."

Ghost gave her a small, reassuring smile and continued down the corridor, still holding her hand. As they moved forward, Althea could feel the warmth of his hand seeping into her own body. She was still indignant, sure. But a very, very, very small part of her secretly felt pleased.

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR READING! See you tomorrow!