Ghost drags you into a nearby closet, pulling you into his lap as you hid from the target's body guards. "Keep still." He snapped, clenching his jaw as he held you against his chest. "Move your gun." You hiss, feeling the hard surface of the muzzle press up against your back as you shift uncomfortably in his lap. "That's not my gun." Ghost ground out, his grip on your waist tightening as he dipped his head down toward yours as he spoke in a harsh whisper. "Now stop. fucking. moving."