Unusual Saviors

Chapter 4

"Y/n?" Ghost's voice echoed through the seemingly empty cabin but you couldn't hear it. And if you would have heard him, you wouldn't have had the energy to answer him either way.

"Y/n," he called out for you a bit louder, his voice bordering on sounding agitated as he stomped through the cabin. And just when your head started to spin a tad too much, your legs slowly giving out under you, he appeared behind you in the doorway. Right in time to catch your unconscious figure, your back slumping against his huge frame.

"Fucking shit, thought you ran off," he mumbled as he gently sat you down on the floor, propping you up against the wall. You were still barely conscious as he searched the cabinet for a small washcloth, wiping away the blood on your hand with warm water.

Disinfecting the cut before he got gauze and began to wrap up your hand. The burn of the disinfectant somehow got you back to your senses. You blinked slowly, scolding yourself internally for making such a fuss because of a small cut.

"Thanks, I usually do that myself," you said with a laugh, still a bit dizzy while he continued to bandage your hand. Admittedly doing a way better job than you would have.

"Usually?" he asked with a concerned expression, crouched down in front of you, his brown eyes boring into yours.

"Clumsy," you reminded him with a forced smile.

"Clumsy," he replied dryly with a knowing nod, holding your bandaged hand in his for a second longer than necessary. You didn't pull away even though you probably should have, only then realizing how much you missed things like that.

How much you missed touches that didn't hurt. Touches that didn't leave bruises.

"Alright." He let go of your hand, grabbing the uninjured one to pull you up. "It's a clean cut, should heal nicely. Give it a few days and you're as good as new."

As soon as you were back on your feet, you rushed to the kitchen. Rummaging through the cupboard underneath the sink, searching for a sponge and some cleaner when Ghost gently grabbed you by your shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up the mess I made," you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His jaw clenched beneath the fabric of his mask, eyes closing for a second as if he was silently counting down from three to react calmly to your words.

"Sit down, I'll take care of that." He basically manhandled you onto one of the chairs, eyes widening slightly as they landed on the decked table.

"Please, it's my fault-" You started to get up again, but the glare he shot you made you stop in your tracks.

"No. You stay on that chair or I'll tie you to it."

"Fine, fine, but you should probably pass on the apple unless you're a vampire or something," you gesture at the half-cut apple on the counter, drops of blood glistening on the peel.

"Probably," Ghost huffs, accompanied by something that faintly sounded like a chuckle. He threw the apple away and quickly cleaned up the kitchen counter before he joined you at the table, taking the chair right across from you.

You proceeded to eat, well, it was mostly Ghost forcing you to eat at least half of everything because he didn't like how pale you still were. Slightly concerning that a kidnapper, and probably killer, cared more about you than your husband ever had.

"Sorry about last night. I don't want to say I know how you feel, because I probably don't, but my dad was in the army. He died when I was sixteen. My husband served too, he was one of my dad's subordinates, but a few years after my dad died he got- ahm, he quit," you corrected yourself quickly.

A dishonorable discharge because of excessive use of violence against captives and recruits just didn't sound that good. Even less so when you beat up a recruit so badly that he ended up in a coma. It had been self-defense- at least that's what your husband told you when you found out a few weeks after your marriage. Around the time his facade started to crumble, maybe because he couldn't let his anger out on his recruits anymore, the alcohol not helping with his increasingly worsening mood swings.

You pawed at the pockets of your jeans, your expression slightly panicky as you didn't immediately find what you were looking for. But after a second, your fingers touched a familiar piece of cold metal. Clutching the single dog tag tightly, you pulled your hand out of your pocket. Twisting it between your fingers for a while until you put it down on the table right between you and Ghost.

You made sure to keep the one remaining thing you had from your dad on you all the time, not wanting to risk your husband finding and throwing it away in one of his fits.

Somehow, you and Ghost even started to have a bit of small talk, until the beeping of his phone disturbed you. He looked at the message on the screen, breathing in deeply before he sent his reply. Silently, he placed the phone back on the table, looking at the half-empty cup of tea in front of him instead of looking at you.

"Your husband paid his debt."

You couldn't hide that this surprised you. It had only been three days, and usually, it took your husband way longer to get the money together. Lending it from another shady guy, already planting the seeds for your next abduction.

A sickening feeling spread in your stomach as you thought about where he could have probably gotten the money from. Your job was the only place you were allowed to go, apart from a weekly grocery trip. The money you earned was used to pay all the running expenses- and the rest went straight to your husband.

But for the past few months, you had managed to stash a bit of it away. Nothing much, barely over a thousand dollars, but still, it was yours. Even though you didn't know what you could spend it on.

A small voice in the back of your head just told you to keep some money to yourself. Now it looked like that little safety deposit was gone. And your husband sure as hell wouldn't be happy about the fact that you tried to keep secrets from him.