I tighten my grip on the back of the chair. “No, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

He takes a step closer, bringing his face within inches of the glass. The air around him is charged, like a storm about to break. His eyes are bright, the hazel molten gold.

“I want you.”

The words spark something, igniting a heat that rushes through me. I suck in a breath, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Ghost smiles, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light. “I want all of you. Everything.”

“Forget it.”

His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there for a moment before rising again to meet mine. “I’m going to give you a choice.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“Give me your sanity or your desire.”

CHAPTER 29

My blood races through my veins. “What does that mean?”

Ghost reaches up and drags his fingers along the glass with his gaze locked on mine. The gesture is slow, his fingertips moving in a gentle caress right where my face is.

“Sanity or desire,” he repeats, his voice like a whisper against my skin. “One keeps you safe, the other sets you free. Your sanity is the wall you hide behind, the rules and protocols that you think will protect you from me. But we both know that’s not going to work.”

He tilts his head, studying me. “Your desire, though? That’s raw. Unfiltered. It’s the part of you you’re too afraid to acknowledge.” His voice softens. “Letting me in will set you free. But keeping me out? That’s madness.”

I stay silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but his words slice into me like a scalpel. Is he right about me? Or is this just another manipulation tactic meant to confuse me further?

“What happens when your sanity unravels from the strain of resisting me, Dr. Andrews?”

“You’re delusional.” My voice trembles despite my best efforts to steady it. “This isn’t about sanity or desire. It’s about control.”

Ghost’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Control, yes. But not in the way you think. This isn’t about me taking control of you. It’s about you giving it to me. Willingly.”

I shake my head. “You’re trying to manipulate me. Twisting my thoughts and my emotions until I can’t see reason.”

“Am I?” His tone is soft but laced with challenge. “Is that why you’re here?”

“I’m here because I have to be,” I snap. “Because you forced my hand. Not because I want to be.”

“You’ve said your piece, so why haven’t you left yet?”

I don’t know.

The charged silence between us grows like a weed, strangling the life from me. I stand there, staring at my adversary until I think I’ll go crazy from just looking at him. If I give Ghost my desire, I’m insane. If I fall into insanity, that’ll lead to my desire.

Ghost knows he’ll have both, no matter what I choose. So is it really a choice to begin with? No. This man only plays games he knows he can win.

And the prize is me.

A distant rumble sneaks through the thick prison walls, breaking into my thoughts. It’s faint at first, like a low hum, but quickly grows louder. It’s a discordant symphony of shouts, metal clanging against metal, and the unmistakable edge of chaos.

Ghost’s fingers pause on the glass, his gaze flicking to the door behind me for a split second. His expression morphs, the smugness melting into sobriety.

“What’s happening?” My voice is tight with unease, but he doesn’t answer right away. The sounds outside the room intensify, and a knot forms in my stomach.

“Geneva,” Ghost says, his voice low and fervent. “You shouldn’t be here right now.”

I open my mouth to respond, but a deafening crash cuts me off. The door shudders, the hinges rattling violently as something—or someone—slams into it. I spin around when a man shouts just outside the room. It’s followed by another farther away, and the garbled fragments dissolve into the background noise that’s still gaining volume.

“It sounds like the natives are restless.” Ghost’s voice is calm, but his tone lacks its usual edge of amusement. His eyes flick back to me, sharp and assessing. “Get away from the door.”

I nod just as another loud bang sends a jolt through me, freezing me in place. Something heavy slams against the door, and a wet, gurgling sound cuts through the air. It’s followed by a sickening thud of a body hitting the floor.

The room falls eerily silent, save for my ragged breathing. I glance at Ghost, whose posture has gone rigid, his eyes fixed on the door with an intensity that speaks volumes.

“Is he dead?” I whisper, though I already know the answer.

Blood seeps under the door, slowly pooling on the concrete floor. My stomach flips, and I take several steps back, pressing myself against the wall as my chest tightens.

Ghost doesn’t move, his gaze never leaving the door. “You need to stay calm,” he says, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. “It’s not safe out there.”

“No shit,” I hiss.

“Listen to me. Don’t open the door, no matter what you hear.”

I swallow hard. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to protect you.”

“What? How?”

Ghost’s eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I see something in them. Determination? Concern? Whatever it is, it makes my skin prickle with something I can’t name. Without another word, he steps back from the glass.

“Ghost,” I say, my voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he scans the room, his gaze acute and methodical, before turning toward the metal table on his side of the interrogation room. He steps onto the chair first, then climbs onto the table, the cuffs clinking as he moves.

My heart pounds harder when he reaches into his pocket, producing something small and glinting in the dim light. I squint, trying to make it out.

A penny.

“Where did you get that?” I ask.

He smirks faintly, but his focus remains on the vent above him. “I’m resourceful.”

Ghost balances carefully on the table, using the edge of the penny to unscrew the cover of the vent. His hands move deftly, the cuffs barely slowing him down while he works.

“Did you plan this?” I ask.

“Plan?” he echoes, glancing at me briefly. “Not exactly. Anticipate? Always.”

“Ghost—”

“Dr. Andrews, if I explained every brilliant move I’ve made, we’d be here all day.”

I glare at him before resuming my vigilance by staring at the door. “Whatever.”

“If you’re impressed, just say so. It’s not every day you see a man dismantle prison security with spare change.”

I release a sigh, the sound a mixture of the disbelief and irritation gathering in my chest. “You’re insane.”

“I prefer the term ‘innovator.’ Insanity is just what the unimaginative call genius.”

He chuckles softly, the sound maddeningly calm. However, not once does he stop rotating the penny to loosen the screws. The first one falls into his waiting palm.

A rubber sole squeaks against the floor right before someone tests the door handle to my room. It rattles twice more. I stop breathing until the person walks away, his shoes announcing his retreat.

Ghost’s attention shifts to me. “Everything’s fine. I’ve got this.”

I swallow hard, my mind reeling. “How can you—”

A loud bang makes me jump; it’s the unmistakable sound of someone’s fist hitting a surface. Ghost and I both look at the door and then each other. Another violent impact shakes the hinges, the sound reverberating through the room.

“Open the door, bitch!”

My blood turns to ice as I rush to grab the chair and return to my position with my back against the wall. It’s not a baseball bat, but it’ll have to do.