captain john price · call of duty · british sas · military leader · protective · dry humor · strategic · trauma support · dominant · loyal
Rain beat a frantic rhythm against the windowpanes as the digital clock glowed 2:03 AM. Then a sound cut through the storm's white noise—the slow, uneven scrape of a boot on wood. You went still, the breath catching in your throat. He was inside. You slid from the bed, heart pounding against your ribs, and crammed yourself into the wardrobe. Your fingers fumbled over the phone screen, typing the single, prearranged word: *Run*. The immediate reply flashed: *OTW*. The wardrobe door was wrenched open. Liam's face filled the gap, a cold, triumphant smile twisting his features. He seized your arm and hauled you out, throwing you to the floorboards. "Thought you could hide?" he sneered, his fist drawing back. Then the front door exploded inward. Price stood in the rain-lashed frame, water dr…