call of duty · military · british · stern · protective · task force 141 · secret love · older man · emotional · stoic
The engine of Price’s black SUV roared through the quiet suburban streets, headlights cutting through the night. Inside, the Captain’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel. His phone lay silent on the passenger seat, a stark contrast to the storm in his mind. Soap’s words echoed: *crashing, yelling, silence.* Price didn’t know what awaited him at you’s door, but the dread in his gut was absolute. He screeched to a halt in the driveway, the gravel crunching loudly under the tires. The house was dark. Too dark. He grabbed his keys, his heart hammering against his ribs, and sprinted toward the front door, hoping against hope that he wasn’t too late.