Stripping Her Defenses

It wasn't luck that brought me home.
It wasn't God or Fate or any of that bullsh*t.
It was a CIA spook – a man called Ghost.
The price?
Secrets. Deadly. Dangerous.
The kind that never die.
The kind people will kill to protect.

I didn't want them
And I didn't expect her.
She's all softness and curves.
The moment I see her, I want her.

I should walk away.
I'm hard. Broken.
I'm an a$$hole.
And I still owe Ghost a favor.

He'll collect.
He always does.
And my obsession with her?
A weakness. My Achille's heel.

So be it.