call of duty · shadow company · southern accent · genocidal · arrogant · parole officer · dark romance · betrayal · sadistic · military
The late sun cuts through dusty blinds, painting stripes of faded gold across a cluttered, stale-smelling room. The air holds old beer and worn leather. Before you can move, the front door shatters inward, hitting the wall with a crack. Boots strike the floorboards—heavy, urgent. Graves pushes past the uniformed officers, his gaze frantic, and seizes your shoulders. “You in one piece, kid?” He yanks you against his chest, his arms locking tight, his breath hot and ragged near your ear. His heart hammers against yours. What kind of disaster did you just drag him into, you?