by Rina Kent
“You love me for it.” The amusement drifts wild and clear.
“Humph. Don’t flatter yourself.”
He lowers me on the bed as if I weigh nothing and he’s on me before I can blink.
The intensity in his overcast eyes almost burns me. “You’re mine and will always be. Start getting used to it, beautiful.”
His mouth finds the pulse point in my neck. My skin ignites in a thousand fires, and then he bites down hard. I bite back at his shoulder. The struggle goes on for what seems like forever. Our clothes are half torn and on the ground.
My body is so stimulated that when he sinks inside me in one delicious go, I almost come right here right now.
Just like yesterday, his gaze doesn’t leave mine. It’s like he needs me to see how clear his eyes are even when they’re hazy with untamed lust. It’s the connection that makes me come apart around him.
If I had any doubts before, now I’m sure that whatever we have is beyond any fucking or physical struggles. He owns a piece of my soul and as he kisses me while riding his own orgasm, I know I own a piece of his soul, too.
We lay in each other’s arms, breathing heavily and basking in the remnants of the dopamine cloud.
There’s some blood on the sheets. No idea if it’s his or mine. I think I scratched him too hard.
“You asked me if I like being hollow.” He curls a strong hand around my nape. “I don’t.”
I stare up at him, not believing my ears. “Then why were you?”
“It was easier. Less complicated.”
From what I learnt about his life, I can’t say I blame him.
“I feel like I’m hollow, too, sometimes,” I admit in a soft whisper. It’s like a chunk of me is missing since my parents’ death.
“We’ll fill each other up.” His lips graze my forehead in a long, toe-curling kiss.
I must’ve drifted to sleep because Shadow wakes me up in the middle of the night by slipping inside me from behind. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. I come twice before he lets me go back to sleep again.
When I wake up the second time, he’s pressing a hand to my mouth with a knife in his other hand. The small light coming from outside casts harsh edges on his features.
My eyes bulge as sleep withers away.
What…?
He places an index finger to his lips. “Someone is here.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I shove Zoe inside a wardrobe and cover her with clothes until only the blonde strands peek out. “Don’t come out under any fucking circumstances.”
The shining green of her eyes fills with fear. “But what if –”
I place a finger on her lips and shake my head. “They’re after me. If they don’t know you’re here, they won’t target you.”
At least I fucking hope they don’t. I’m guessing this is one of Team Ink’s stunts. Their target should be me. If anyone puts their hands on her, I’ll burn them alive and watch the fucking show.
After I make sure she’s in a good hiding spot, I start to close the wardrobe.
Zoe grabs my wrist. “I can shoot. Give me a gun.”
After I faced Ghost about the security footage, he mentioned something about her being a police forces’ student. Her fighting skills made sense with that background, but I didn’t spare it much thought at the time. Now, it’s useful. At least I know she can protect herself if something happens to me.
I reach for the floor, fish into my trousers until I find the gun. She can have it, I’ll deal with the knife. I’m better at close range combat, anyway.
Once I hand her the weapon, Zoe holds it with steady, confident fingers and checks the chamber for bullets. I grin, feeling inexplicably proud of her.
“How about you?” She stares at the knife in my hand.
“I have a spare,” I lie. “Stay low. Don’t attack unless you’re attacked.”
She nods longer than needed. I’m about to close the wardrobe when she holds the door. Her soft plead almost undoes me. “Come back, okay?”
“You bet, beautiful.”
I shut the wardrobe, the window, and the door, and I’m flying down the stairs.
Ink’s cockroaches have been hiding the last few weeks, so I thought he was letting go of the grudge. I should’ve known better. That fucker is even more petty than me.
I hold the non-sharp side of the knife between my teeth while I button my trousers. My movements are swift and silent as I stalk to the entrance.
Sounds drift from the kitchen. A pan. A lighter. A chair being pulled. I’m not even on Omega – that much – but I can still hear them.
I stop at the corner leading to the kitchen and grab my knife in my hand. It’s a lot of noise for someone intruding, but The Pit’s assassins have a lot of crazy going on.
Maybe they have a death wish.
“Fancy a cup of tea? Coffee?”
“Something stronger.”
Those two voices.
My hold falters on the knife, but I don’t drop it as I barge into the kitchen.
Flame is huddled at the kitchen table. His tall, broad frame dwarfs the old wooden chair. His legs stretch in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. His dark ginger hair is all over the place as if he just rolled out of bed — which he probably did.
The one with him is a surprise. Hawk stands at the counter, pouring himself coffee from the pot.
I thought he looked bad on the videos Hades sent, but in person, he’s a lot fucking worse.
His hair is short, cut in a military style which highlights the galaxy of blue and green and yellow on his face and neck. Out of Team Zero, Hawk is probably the broadest and bulkiest. He’s done lots of lifting since we were teens and his body shape is buff as if he’s on steroids. Now, though, it’s safe to say he lost at least twenty pounds of his weight. The half-tucked grey T-shirt swallows his shoulders.
Aside from his appearance, he still projects the same calm, albeit deadly presence.
Hades told us once that the silent ones are the most lethal — though Scar and I always proved him wrong. This big man is Team Zero’s ace sniper. He killed more people in the Middle East than the fucking army.
He never misses.
He’s been Hades’ subject of torture all these months while the rest of us worked on the mafia business. Hawk was locked up with Ink and two other Team Zero members and gone through harsh withdrawal.
“What are you doing here?” I’m still holding the knife, but it’s lowered.
I might not consider Team Zero a family like Ghost does, but I’ve known these two fuckers for decades. That’s the only reason I’m not killing them for interrupting the best sleep I had in ages.
Hawk’s head snaps my way and the coffee spills all over the counter. His wrists are bandaged due to being cuffed and hanging from the ceiling.
Fucking torture. Hades did a number on him.
I wonder how the old hag Mist felt when she saw him in person. That if they’re not still playing that hide and seek game.
Hawk’s brows furrow. “I didn’t sense you.”
“It takes time, but you’ll get used to it.” I lie to make him feel better.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this weaker version of myself, and I’m often tempted to go back to Omega. However, the thought of those bright green eyes disappointed in me or Ghost giving up on me stops me every time.
Hawk retrieves a cigarette and slips it between his lips. “Flame didn’t mention that you’d be here.”
Flame who’s been silently smoking lifts a shoulder. “I must’ve forgotten.”
I narrow my eyes on the shady bastard. Since he always has a motive, bringing Hawk here is no coincidence. I’m tempted to cut him because he scared Zoe.
I kick a chair back and slump across from him. The sooner he gets it over with the better.
“Sorry, big man,” I tell Hawk. “You can’t stay here. Hide from Mist someplace else.”
Haw
k pats his pocket in search of a lighter. “I’m not hiding.”
“Sure thing. Your drama with the old hag doesn’t interest me.” I kick the chair beside me so he’d sit down. “Why did Flame bring you here?”
Hawk slowly settles in, careful not to scrape his side. His injuries must be a bitch. I’d hate to be him.
He removes the unlit cigarette from his mouth and cuts me a sharp glare. “Stop calling her an old hag.”
“You should see her wrinkles. Only wait.” I grin. “You’re avoiding each other.”
He grunts and I’m sure he would’ve jammed my face into the table if he were in better shape. Instead, he grabs Flame’s lighter and brings it to his cigarette.
“There’s no alcohol here.” Flame blows smoke from his mouth. “What’s wrong with this place?”
“Your fucking existence.” My words are more biting than I like to show Flame — or anyone for that matter. But my skin is crawling at the thought of them under the same roof as Zoe. Hawk is fresh from extensive withdrawal and therefore, his relapse is bound to be strong.
Flame is unpredictable as fuck, and he’d do anything to serve his agenda — whatever the hell that is.
I need them a planet away from Zoe.
“What is it?” I level my tone even though I’m still toying with the knife on the table.
Flame takes his sweet arse time to take a drag of his cigarette and blow a cloud of nicotine. “Hades feels tricked about releasing Hawk, so he’ll take one of us on his behalf.”
“Didn’t he have a deal with Ghost to release a Zero if we reach double revenue?” I ask.
“He never said he won’t take back one more.” Hawk’s hand shakes, meaning that Omega’s after-effects are kicking in.
“Yeah, so?” I carve a path with the knife on the table. “Let’s send Scar in. She’s crazy whether inside or outside and she’s not doing much for the organisation, anyway.”
Flame shakes his head. “Ghost won’t allow it. He’s volunteering to go himself.”
“The fuck?” I stab the table with the knife.
“Mist wants to go instead,” Hawk says in a low tone.
“And Hawk volunteered to return.” Flame rolls his eyes as if internally thinking ‘I’m surrounded by idiots.’
“What type of brilliant plan is all this?” I can use a drink about now.
“I’m sure Hades will be delighted to take the three of them back.” Flame points his cigarette at me. “It’ll be bothersome if I’m stuck with you and Scar. That’s why we’re here.”
My hand wraps around the knife’s handle. “What the fuck do you expect me to do?” Except for shackling Ghost to a tree. Or better yet, use Elle against him. He has an emotional connection to her, and if anyone can convince him to stay then it’s her.
Old hag Mist can be my guest and walk back to Hades’ hell any day. Only that it’ll be a pain in the arse to take care of Le Salon on her behalf.
Flame cocks his head towards Hawk. “Tell him.”
My gaze rakes between them. “Tell me what?”
“I have a message from Ink,” Hawk says.
My hold tightens on the knife until my knuckles whiten. “What?”
“You owe him a disciple’s life and if you don’t pay him back, he’ll take his revenge in his own way.”
I smile faintly. “He’s prisoned but still has time for revenge and shit?”
“His exact words were: Come find me at The Pit or deal with the consequences. I hold grudges just like you, Shadow.”
Fuck. That he does. The slimy bastard killed the guard who tortured him when he was a teen. It took him ten years of careful plotting, but he did it all the same.
He’ll come after me whether now or after a decade.
Ink doesn’t scare me, but the fact that he’ll target my weaknesses does. That cockroach was one of Ink’s closest people and the best way to get back at me is to find something I hold dear and finish it.
A few months ago, I would’ve gone head to head with him and fuck consequences. Now that there are Zoe and Nonna, everything changes. One wrong move and I’ll be putting them both in danger.
“I’ll think about it.” I stand up and yank the knife. “Now, shoo and don’t return here.”
“One more thing.” Flame tilts his head to the side. “Neither Ghost nor President Joe managed to catch Johnny, so he’s still on the run, but he’s not out of the country.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I throw him an impatient stare. Johnny betrayed President Joe by plotting to take Ghost down when President Joe was negotiating a partnership with us. And because President Joe only runs after profit, when Ghost offered him twenty five per cent of the new drug factory, he dropped Johnny as fast as a bad habit. For that sleazy old man, the fact that Johnny was his second in command and most trusted man meant shit in front of money.
But then again, Johnny did betray him so he deserves being hunted down like a fucking dog.
Rumour has it that President Joe disowned his own fucking daughter when she betrayed him. No one knows what she did, but everyone knows he disowned her. The old man had two girls. One of them was disowned and the other died in a fire more than thirty years ago. Since then, he’s become so ruthless and powerful that everyone wants to gain his favour.
“Give me a tip if you come across him,” Flame says coolly, uncrossing his ankles.
“Let me guess.” I point my knife at him. “President Joe will owe you a favour if you bring him Johnny.”
He lifts a shoulder.
“Is there anyone who doesn’t owe you a favour?” Hawk asks what I’m thinking.
Flame appears to be thoughtful for while smoking as if calculating something. “The queen.”
Hawk’s lips lift in what resembles a smile and I snicker. “Piss off both of you.”
“We have a few weeks until one has to go.” Flame taps his wrist even though there isn’t a watch. “Tick. Tock.”
I chain the door behind them. Not that it’ll stop them if they decide to break in. I’m installing a new security system in this place.
I run back upstairs three steps at a time.
The moment I open the door, a gun is pointed at me. A sheet drapes around Zoe’s torso and drags behind her on the ground.
I’m surprised that her hold is steady on the weapon. The woman sure knows how to hold a gun.
As soon as she sees me. She lowers the gun, makes sure to click on the safe, and places it on the nightstand.
Fuck me.
That feeling of pride from earlier returns with force.
I don’t get a warning before she throws herself in my arms. She smells of citrus and flowers, but underneath, there’s also my scent. I wrap my arms around her and mould her body into mine. It’s crazy how obsessed I am and how much I can’t get enough of touching her and being around her and inside her.
She’s still fighting this pull between us, but with time, she’ll know how serious I am and how I’ll bring hell to this earth in order to protect her. With time, she’ll soften and accept me. At least, I hope she does.
There’s no way I’m letting her go. She’s been mine since she dared kiss me that first time. No one kisses me. I don’t even like fucking kissing. But with this woman?
I hold her face and claim her lips. I can’t get enough of this taste and how her bottom lip twitches against mine before she gives me access.
Whenever she caves into me like this, I can’t help feeling like the most triumphant man alive. Maybe someday, she’ll offer me her heart along with her body.
She’s breaking me and moulding me together again. I never thought I needed light until I caught a glimpse of hers.
When I pull away, there’s that familiar doubt written all over her face. Soon enough, she’ll trust me. Soon enough, she’ll open the gates for me.
“Who were they?” she asks. “I heard you talking to them.”
“Acquaintances.”
“Did you… kill them?”
/> “No, but I would’ve if they posed a danger.”
“Right.” She clutches the sheet to her chest and trudges to the bed without meeting my gaze.
She’s building those bricks between us all over again. I try to be cool about it since I just decided to give her time, but I can’t help the twinge of pain.
I rake a hand through my hair. “What is it now? Do you want me to apologise for killing people who deserve to be dead? I won’t. And if I get to repeat the other time, I would kill the cockroach all over again because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting in front of me right now.”
I expected her to argue and retaliate as usual, but she remains silent for so long as if she didn’t hear a word I said. Even her sitting position on the bed is frozen like a statue. Finally, she asks in a quiet tone. “Do you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy what?”
“Killing.”
I lift a shoulder and go with the truth. I’d do anything except lie to her. “People have to die and I’m one of those who are efficient at killing. I don’t derive pleasure from it, but I don’t hate it either. If someone deserves to die, I will kill them.”
A bitter smile tugs on her lips. “You’re so much like him.”
I rub the back of my neck until a few strands almost rip from my scalp. I’m ready for anything except for talking about another man. Just the thought of someone else having her makes my mood black. “Who the fuck is him?”
“My dad.” She fiddles with the sheet, not meeting my gaze. “He was a captain in the British army and a war hero. At least that’s what the medals from the queen said. Apparently, he saved his soldiers in a superhero fashion. Just because he received those medals, he truly believed that he was a hero even though he killed countless people.”
I crouch in front of her and refrain from touching her no matter how much I want to. It’s clear that it’s taking her lots of courage to say this, so I won’t get in her way.
“If it’s of any comfort.” I grin “I never considered myself a hero and I sure as shit never received a medal from the queen.”
She smiles, but tears form in her eyes. The breaking in her voice as she speaks guts me. “He raped my mum. I’m a result of that rape and the glue that forced her to stay with him. When she wanted to take me and leave, he tried to suffocate us by gas. Mum saved me in the last minute, but... she never made it.”