Rachel's brow furrowed. "What?"
"We can leak it," he continued. "Get it out there without putting a target on your back. Hale already knows you're a threat. The second your byline goes live, he'll come after you harder than before."
She stared at him. Her hands came up to rest against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Logan, I can't—"
"You can," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You've done the work. You've got the proof. Let someone else take the heat."
Rachel shook her head. The movement pulled at her ribs, but she ignored it. "No. It needs to come from me."
"Rachel—"
"No," she said again, stronger this time. "I was there. I saw what they did. I felt it. This story, it's mine. And if I hand it off to someone else, it loses the truth of what happened." Her voicedidn't shake. "They took me. They stripped me. They tried to break me and I'm going to be the one who breaks them."
Ghost's eyes searched hers. She saw the conflict there, the part of him that wanted to lock her away somewhere safe where Hale could never reach her, and the part that understood why she needed this.
"You're sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure."
A long beat passed. His hands stayed on her waist, anchoring her. Then, finally, he exhaled hard. "Okay."
Rachel blinked. "Okay?"
"Okay," he repeated. "But you're with me. Twenty-four seven. You don't go anywhere without me until Hale is caught. I won't lose you again."
The words settled between them.
Rachel's breath shuddered out. She nodded slowly. "Okay."
Ghost's hand came up to cup her face, fingers threading through her hair just below the bruise forming there. His touch was gentle, completely at odds with the violence still drying on his bandaged knuckles.
"I thought I lost you," he said quietly. "In that warehouse. When I heard him—" His voice roughened. "I thought I was too late."
"You weren't," she whispered.
"I will always find you," he said. "No matter what. No matter where. I will always come for you."
Rachel's eyes stung. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, pressing it firmer against her cheek. "I know."
He leaned in and kissed her. Slow and deliberate. Not desperate or hungry, but a promise made physical. His lips moved against hers with careful intent, like he was confirming she was real, here, alive.
When he pulled back, he searched her eyes, ensuring this is really what she wants.
Then Ghost straightened. His hand slid from her face to her waist, then lower to take her hand. His fingers laced through hers.
"Okay," he said. "Let's do this."
He led her back into the living room. The team looked up as they entered, conversations dying mid-sentence.
Ghost's gaze found Echo at the ops table. "Get everything ready," he said. "Rachel's going to release the information."
Echo's fingers stilled on the keyboard. He looked from Ghost to Rachel, then nodded once. "Copy that."
Rachel squeezed Ghost's hand. He squeezed back.
Then she stepped forward toward the laptop, and the team moved to make room.
Rachel turned toward the counter. The open laptop sat where Echo had left it, screen casting a faint glow against the dark marble.
