POV ESMERAY
The safe house was a cabin made of dark cedar and secrets, tucked so deep into the Sierra Nevada mountains that even the stars seemed to keep their distance. Outside, the wind howled through the pines, a lonely, restless sound, but inside, the air was thick with a heat that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the stone hearth.
We were alone. The other Phantoms had stayed at a perimeter camp miles away, giving their President the silence he had earned.
Ruan stood by the window, his back to me. He had shed his leather vest and his shirt, standing bare-chested in the amber glow of the fire. The scars across his back looked like a map of every war he'd ever fought, and for the first time, I didn't want to heal them. I wanted to know them. I wanted to understand
