War Dog

Chapter 32

"Johnny."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He screamed out the last word, and even without Wolfs sensitive senses, I could tell his heart was pounding and fear running through him. 

"Johnny," I say again calmly stepping quietly in front of him drawing his attention to me. 

"Did you know?" He asked. I could hazard a guess as to what the little Wolf had said to him to get him reacting like this. After all, she'd done similar things to me multiple times when I had started to act like an arse. She had a way of hitting hard and fast, no warning. She didn't take bullshit kindly, and Soap was filled with ten different t kinds of bullshit always.

"Know what?" I ask, voice controlled. 

"That she wanted to tear my throat out." His voice has gone flat, emotionless, but I can see the panic in his eyes. "She likes the smell of my fear."

Ah. "That." I respond softly. "Yes, she told me she has some memories of that time. Not many, but the scent of your fear was one of them."

"What the fuck, Ghost? And you didn't tell me?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?" His voice was rising in anger and aggression, his eyes wild. The little wolf had really done a number on him. 

"Because once her feral episode broke, it didn't matter. She's only pushing you now because you're being an arse, and frankly, I agree. You were the one who wants to pursue her, well you're doing a shit job, Johnny. She's right, how the hell do you have no problems with watching any of us commit untold terrors, hell I've seen you do just as much shot as I have, and yet the moment she does something you have a problem with it?"

He stood there, chest heaving in anger and fear as he took on my words laced with venom. 

"It's different!" He tried to argue, brow scrunched in a frown.

"Don't. Just don't even try that with me. You're on thin fucking ice, Johnny. All she wanted to do tonight was give you a physical demonstration of just how much she can sense below the surface so you understood her skills a little better. Instead you took an opportunity to push her, and me, to see how she'd react. When you didn't like the response you fled and had a hissy fit. She is a predator in every sense of the word, Soap. That was one of the reasons you wanted to bring her on. You loved the idea of her theory, but now that you've seen her covered in blood using the tools she was given, you can't stomach the thought that she enjoys what she does?"

"No, Ghost. I can't, alright, is that what you wanted to hear? Watching her come out of that building covered in blood, the way her jaw and claws were painted red? She's essentially a cannibal, Ghost. She's a fucking disaster, alright? She delights in the fear she causes, what kind of monster is she?" 

The anger bubbling up inside of me boiled over. I clenched my fists, muscles rigid my voice tightly controlled. "You better correct that statement, Soap."

"No, she's a liability to the team, and she's got you so fucking wrapped up you can't even-"

A flash of muscle and fur came barrelling into the room Johnny and I were and tackled him out of the way as my arm snapped out. My fist missed the pair of them by a hairs breadth. Wolf let Soap go unceremoniously and he stumbled slightly. She stepped over to me, her voice soft and gentle. 

"Ghost," She hums, her hands reaching up to cup my face. "There's no need to be hitting Soap now, Ghost," She reprimanded softly. "He's being an arse, doesn't mean he deserves to get hit. You also don't need  formal reprimand for hitting him." The warmth from her hands seeped through the material of the mask. My eyes find hers and I stare into her soft calming hazel ones as she continues to talk me down.