Home - COD Simon Ghost Riley X Female OC

Chapter 44

"Home, then?" Price raised his glass.

Simon was becoming increasingly aware of how exposed he was outside the mask. And the question, however harmless, was hard for him to answer.

Or it had been, until he had Mariana back with him and then realized that the hotel room felt like home and the backseat of the car felt like home and wherever they would go next, together, felt like home. He hated change, but it wasn't a painful one. Only terrifying.

"Home." He stated and took another drink.

"I've been thinking about things a lot. This last assignment went left too easily, got messy. I need to step back for a bit."

Simon eyed him. "Step back?"

Price gave him a knowing look and a familiar smile. "I just need a breather is all, I'm not done yet."

The bar they were in was quiet, they had chosen a dark corner to meet, and it hid the emotion on their faces well. It was never easy at the end, to part for an unknown amount of time, to know that next time they meet might be the last. But they all needed a breather.

"I got you this, I assume the girl is going back with you?" He pulled out an expensive bottle of Bourbon. A luxury Simon rarely allowed himself.

"She is."

"A housewarming gift, then." He handed it over.

Simon took it, pretending to read the label while he processed the sentiment. They were going back together, it hadn't even been a question. Just an assumption.

The press had broken that Mariana was back and her 'wild' story of survival. And she hated it. She was desperate to leave the city, and he was just as desperate to leave with her.

"There's something else I mean to speak with you about."

Price had put on his Captain voice and Simon set the bottle aside and turned to listen. "Alright."

"Whether or not it lasts, I know this has changed things for you indefinitely." He didn't have to explain what he meant by 'this'. Simon hardened his gaze, wary of what he would say. "If you want time, more time, or if you need time, you have it."

"That—"

Price held up a hand to cut him off. "I know. I know what you'll think about this, so just let me finish." He looked away from Simon, back at his glass. "I would take your tags, Simon, honorably and without question if you found you'd rather stay home. Have a life there. Raise a family. Things men should have a chance to do. Even men like us."

Simon just stared at him. He hadn't expected that, he had half expected new orders. A feeling all too familiar in the prior months gripped him. Panic. He swallowed it, shifting uncomfortably. Price finally looked at him.

"It's not something you need to decide now. It's on the table as long as you're with me."

"No." Simon shook his head. "No. I decided a long time ago that I would never leave. Not for anything. If I've done something wrong—"

Price cut him off again. "You've done nothing wrong, Simon. And I need you out there, I'm not trying to get rid of you." He patted Simon's arm where it was outstretched to grip his drink. "Don't answer now. Don't answer for another decade if you don't want to. Just know it's an option." He checked his watch. "I have a plane to catch. Let's catch up across the pond, ay?"

Simon only nodded. Once Price was out the door, he drained his glass. He was nothing if not consistent. Solid. No past, no future, just this very moment. That had suited him until a particularly dark night a particularly short time ago. He had worked for years to recover from the hand he'd been dealt. And why? To keep killing? Or to find something like this?