Shadowed: A Hitman Mafia Romance (Team Zero Book 4)

by Rina Kent

  As if possible, Mist’s scowl deepens. She’s standing toe to toe with Shadow in the lounge area while I sit across from them on the sofa. The tension in the air is so suffocating, it’s hard to breathe.

  The height difference between them is obvious even with Mist’s nude heels. She’s not short by any means, but Shadow is just too tall.

  That should intimidate her, but I’m starting to believe that Mist isn’t the type to be intimidated. She walks into any place with that elegant, pristine posture and perfect, groomed features, and it’s like she already owns the people in it.

  Arms crossed, she’s tapping her bicep with red-manicured fingers. Judging from her expression, I assume she’s killing him in her mind.

  I can relate. He’s that infuriating sometimes.

  Shadow must’ve called Mist in the middle of the night since she showed up here first thing in the morning.

  “If you’re going to ask for something, ask nicely,” she says.

  “It’s not for me.” He cocks his head my way. “It’s for Zoe.”

  “Of course I’m here for Zoe. If it were for you.” A sadistic smile lifts her lips. “I would be doing my nails while watching you drown in your blood.”

  He grins back. “Same, old hag.”

  “I’ll tell Ghost I tried to save you. Just to be amicable.”

  “I’ll tell him the same.” He leans close. “I’ll even try to make your death merciful. The sooner you die, the better.”

  “Why don’t we count how long it takes for you to bleed out?”

  “I’m bigger than you, old hag. It’ll be faster to test how long until you bleed out.”

  “I can compromise, you first.”

  “Ladies first.”

  My gaze keeps moving from one to the other like a ping pong ball. Their banter is more amusing than the coffee mug in my hand. It’s like I’m watching a Tarantino film where everyone talks about blood and killing in a dark humour kind of way. Shadow and Mist’s expressions remain neutral as they enumerate creative ways to watch each other die. When the back and forth goes on for several minutes, I’m not sure if they’re joking or for real.

  If I weren’t so certain that Mist would never be interested in Shadow, I might have been jealous. She’s so exotic with that fiery red hair and big hazel eyes. Her designer dark green dress fits her slender figure and enhances her creamy skin tone.

  She’s probably the only one I’m sure would resist Shadow’s charms. In case of some apocalyptic event where only the two of them remain alive, something tells me she’d rather kill him and go crazy on her own rather than survive with him.

  After they both agree to not cry on each other’s funerals, they seem satisfied. Shadow turns to me with the determined expression he’s been wearing since he started his quest to make me ‘face my past’.

  For a few days after I foolishly admitted to being scared, Shadow tried to make me talk.

  I told him all that I remember about that night and prior to it, but he still believes I’m blocking things. Probably because I’ve been telling him on autopilot, trying carefully not to delve too deep.

  His solution is Mist. Apparently, she practised hypnosis before and it can aid in regaining lost memories.

  “Now, help her,” Shadow says.

  “I don’t need help.” Now that it’s becoming real, I’m not ready to open a Pandora’s Box.

  He faces me with a neutral expression, but his shoulders tense underneath the white T-shirt. His biceps flex, and today, the tigers are full on snarling and threatening. “That’s what everyone who needs help says.”

  Like a cornered animal, I go for the attack. “Then you must’ve thought the same.”

  Mist smiles but says nothing.

  I immediately regret it. Just because I’m hurt, it doesn’t give me the right to hurt him. Before I can say anything, however, Shadow is in my face. He leans down, looming over my sitting position like a grim reaper.

  “Yes, beautiful. I’m all fucked up and a hollow monster, remember? But I admit that. I don’t hide behind fucking walls, pretending everything is fine.”

  My lips quiver and my hands shake. I have to put the mug on the table so I won’t spill the coffee all over my jeans. My fingers curl in his T-shirt’s collar and I yank him down. “Why can’t you stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

  He smirks, it’s sadistic and downright menacing. “Keep it up, beautiful. Give me ideas.”

  I let go of him with a jerk. “I can’t believe your mind went in that direction. Arsehole.”

  “Oh, I know. And if you still refuse to do this, I’ll be a bigger arsehole, chain you to bed, and force you to open up.”

  “I’ll hate you forever if you do that.”

  His eyes soften to a rare calm grey colour. “I’m ready to take that risk if it means freeing you from the shackles pulling you down.”

  A tear falls down my cheek. He knows there’s something unreachable inside me. Maybe I’ve become rubbish at tucking myself in – I blame the hormones. It’s crazy that he’s more attuned to my mental state than myself.

  He wipes my tears with the tip of his thumb before planting a gentle kiss underneath my damp eye. “Do it for the little you. You owe her the truth.”

  I remain silent, but when he cups my nape, I lean into his addictive touch.

  “I bet she was an adorable fucking thing, huh?” There’s amusement in his tone. “If she’s anything like you, I would’ve been all over her.”

  I nudge him. “That’s so creepy.”

  “What? I meant as a father figure.”

  My stomach flips at the father word. Does that mean he thinks about being a father?

  “He can’t make you.” Mist cuts through my thoughts. She’s been standing at a distance, making her presence so unnoticeable that I almost forgot about her. “If you don’t do this willingly, it won’t work.”

  “Shut up, old hag.”

  “You, shut up, filth.”

  Shadow takes both my hands in his bigger ones and strokes the knuckles before bringing them to his lips. My breathing hitches at the affection shining in his stormy eyes.

  “Do it for yourself, Zoe.”

  I nod. It’s a combination of reasons. One, he’s so determined, it’s impossible to tell him no. Two, my baby. I can’t be a good mother if I’m constantly plagued by nightmares and panic attacks. Three, for the little me as Shadow said. I owe her and myself that much.

  “Okay.” Shadow grins and stands to his full height. “Go ahead, old hag.”

  Mist gives him a condescending look and taps her arm with her nails. “Ask nicely.”

  “Hawk was here the other day,” he says without missing a beat.

  The tapping stops and something in Mist’s face shifts. She’s no longer the cold killer or Le Salon’s elegant madam. For a moment, her hazel eyes soften and she appears ten years younger. The change disappears as soon as it came.

  She goes back to tapping her arm. “What of it?”

  “I can help you locate him.”

  “Who said I want to?”

  “He was badly hurt. You should’ve seen the galaxy of colours on his face and the creative bruises Hades’ torture left.” Shadow feigns disinterest, but he must know he’s getting to her since he’s smirking. He retrieves his phone. “I can call him and —”

  “Enough.” Mist cuts him off. “Ask nicely or I’m out of here.”

  Shadow releases a frustrated breath. He’d never do what Mist wants. Someone like Shadow doesn’t lower himself for anything. A part of me rejoices for not having to do this.

  “Please help her.” Shadow meets Mist’s gaze. “I’ll owe you one.”

  If my jaw wasn’t attached, it’d be on the floor. Mist unfolds her arms, lips parting the slightest bit. Like me, she must’ve never expected Shadow to say the word ‘please’.

  He said it because of me. For me.

  I reach for his hand and thread my fingers through his. I’m bursting with so
much gratefulness, I don’t have the words to express it.

  Mist motions a finger at him and then at the door. “Get out so we can start.”

  “Can’t I stay?”

  Mist shakes her head. “Another person’s presence can disrupt the process. There needs to be a completely calm atmosphere.”

  Shadow nods and starts to untangle his hand from mine. I clutch it tighter. There’s no way I’m doing this without him. “I want him to stay.”

  “Fine.” Mist doesn’t seem pleased as she directs Shadow to the farthest chair from me and instructs him in a teacher-like tone to remain quiet. He throws her a dirty scowl but thins his lips, surely to stop himself from spilling any profanities.

  She closes all the windows, doors, and even the curtains. Only a dim light remains in the lounge area. When done, she settles across from me.

  “Do you prefer to sit or lie down? The most important part is to be comfortable.” Her soft tone is completely different from how she addresses Shadow.

  “I’ll lie down.” I’m already sinking against the old sofa. With a deep breath, I cross my hands on my stomach and try to get comfortable.

  “Here’s how it’ll go.” Mist’s voice is smooth and comforting. “When I practised hypnosis with the girls from Le Salon, they wanted it as a way to reduce anxiety. The trance mode works in getting them in a focused state of mind. I realise that you want to reach a certain event of your past. So all you have to do is concentrate on that goal and go from there. Okay?”

  My heart is almost leaping out of my throat, but the moment I meet Shadow’s encouraging gaze, I feel like I can do anything. I nod.

  She starts talking in an even cooler tone, dragging out her sentences until each word is far apart from the other. She ushers me to relax and to focus on my goal.

  My eyelids start feeling heavy and she tells me not to fight it and to close my eyes. I do.

  “Imagine yourself at the top of a stair, slowly going down.” Mist sounds clear in my mind. “With each step down, you’re heading to the trance mode.”

  As if her words are magic, a staircase does appear. It’s too bright, I squint as I take a step down and then another and another. The place at the bottom seems so awfully familiar. I keep heading that way with steady, firm steps.

  “Sinking down and shutting down.” Mist’s voice accompanies me as the staircase turns darker with each step I take. “Sinking down and shutting down. Sinking down and shutting down. Shutting down completely.”

  I shudder when I find myself in my old room like in that nightmare. I’m sitting beside Little Zoe who’s still sniffling. The sheets are jumbled around her small body and she tightens her hold around the pillow. A red object I can’t pinpoint peeks from between her chest and the pillow.

  She’s still muttering that Dad is a monster and I shouldn’t love him.

  “What do you see?” Mist’s voice drifts like a cool wave.

  “I’m sitting beside the seven years old version of me the night before the incident.”

  “Can you feel what she’s feeling?”

  My lips tremble. “She’s scared.”

  “Try not to project what you remember, but to feel it instead.” Mist’s voice softens. “Can you get closer to her?”

  My brows furrow and I remain standing by Little Zoe’s bed. Her chanting continues on and on. It pierces my ears even though it’s barely a whisper.

  “Don’t fight it. Try to feel it.” Mist’s voice is encouraging.

  I sigh and sit beside Zoe. I reach out to her and my hand connects with her hair. I can touch her this time. Before I can rejoice, my eyes are shut. When I blink them open, I’m not sitting beside Little Zoe. My limbs are small and so are my hands. Tears stream down my cheeks and into my mouth until I taste salt.

  It’s me. I’m Little Zoe now.

  My parents’ fighting from down the hall continues louder and more intense. I remove the pillow from over my head and stare at the red object. The armless robot.

  “How does she feel?” Mist asks.

  “I’m her.”

  “That’s good. Try focusing on that and all the emotions you felt back then.”

  I do. Not only because of what Mist said, but also because my emotions are clear. I thought I was scared, but it’s not fear that’s in my chest. It’s a raw, deep sadness. I hug the robot closer as if needing its strength.

  The words tumble out of my lips – Zoe’s lips. “Daddy isn’t a monster.”

  The shouting stops. I continue hugging the robot as if its mere presence keeps me afloat.

  I don’t know how long I remain that way.

  Mum didn’t shout as much after tonight’s dinner, so maybe Daddy will stay this time. She made us Macaroni and cheese — mine and Dad’s favourites. It tasted funny, but since Daddy finished his dish, I finished mine, too.

  He wanted to read me a bedtime story, but Mum told him she’ll do it. When he asked me if I wanted him to read for me, I lowered my head and went to my room. If I said yes, he won’t stay like Mr Chou.

  Daddy brought me a puppy two years ago on my birthday. He said he’ll keep me company while he’s on tour in Afghanistan. I loved Mr Chou so much, but after a few months, I woke up and he wasn’t there anymore. The neighbour found him dead and thrown in her rubbish can.

  Since then, Mum told me, if I don’t do as she says, she’ll do the same to Daddy.

  The door swings open, and I stiffen. Mum stands in the entrance, wearing a long white gown like a ghost. The light from the hallway gives her a long, scary shadow.

  Mrs Jones, our neighbour, always says that Mum is more beautiful than the models in her magazines with her golden hair and green eyes like the grass in the garden.

  I don’t see that. I only see the shifty way she looks around like when she’s searching for her pills. When her gaze shoots my way, I instinctively shift back in bed.

  My robot!

  I try to hide it under the pillow, but it’s too late.

  Her teeth bare in a snarl as she storms my way. I hold onto the robot for dear life. Why didn’t I hide it better? It’s the last thing I have of Daddy. He bought it for me at the amusement park. That day, he took me all over the place and carried me on his shoulders. We watched fireworks and we even buried a time capsule. The worst part of the day was returning to a fuming Mum.

  She yanks the toy from my sweaty fingers.

  “No, Mummy, no!”

  She shoves me away with a hand to my face and throws the robot against the wall. It breaks, every limb scattering on the wooden flooring.

  “I told you not to play with that!”

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I run to my toy.

  My friend Sarah from school always cries because her mummy went to heaven and left her and her siblings with her dad. I wish Mummy can go to heaven, too, so it’s only my dad and I. Teacher says heaven is a good place, so maybe Mum will stop shouting there. Maybe she’ll stop taking Daddy’s letters away.

  He used to send me a letter every week. He says he misses me and that he loves me.

  Then, the letters disappeared.

  Mummy said he doesn’t love me enough to write to me, but I saw her burn the letters. I listened to her tell Dad I wasn’t home when I was.

  Mum grabs me by the shoulder and hauls me back. She steps on the broken pieces, but it’s like she feels no pain. I saw her burn her thighs under her skirt once and she watched as her skin turned red and then black.

  She smiles, but it’s not like Daddy’s carefree smiles. This one makes me feel cold to my bones. “Mummy will buy you a better toy, Zoe.”

  “I want that one.” Snot and tears run down my face. “I want my daddy.”

  She crouches, not even looking at me. I think she does sometimes, but most of the time, she’s just staring at the distance. “Daddy is a monster baby. You’re not a monster’s daughter, right?”

  “Mummy, please.” I sniffle on tears and wipe them with the back of my hand. “Let me go with Daddy to the
amusement park. Please, Mummy.”

  Her face falls and her expression becomes distant. “You’ll leave me?”

  “He’s my daddy.” I’m crying full on. “I want to play with him.”

  She leans close until I smell wine on her breath. “Remember, Zoe, If you don’t remain as Mummy’s girl, I’ll take your daddy away and send him to where your little Chou went.”

  I swallow and hiccoughs fill my voice. I don’t dare make a sound.

  She smiles and kisses my cheek and says in a singsong voice, “You will be Mummy’s good little girl and keep Mummy and Daddy together, right, Zoe?”

  I nod. Up and down. Up and down.

  She pulls my cheek, her eyes turning so hollow, they almost appear black. “That’s why you were born in the first place. To keep us together.” She laughs. I try to squirm free, but she tightens her clutch on my shoulder until it hurts. “Do you see this, Rachel? Do you? There’s nothing that you have which I don’t. Oh, and you’re dead and I’m alive. I have him and you don’t.”

  She continues talking to Rachel. I think it’s her imaginary friend. I remain completely still even if her grip hurts. If I’m silent, she’ll just cry and then go to sleep.

  “Zoe?” Dad appears at the entrance.

  He’s tall and has eyes like clouds. His dark blond hair is always short cut. Daddy is so handsome and has wide shoulders he carries me on.

  His gaze drifts to my robot smashed against the wall. “What happened to your robot?”

  “She doesn’t want it.” Mum smiles with sweetness. “You shouldn’t have crushed it, baby, I could’ve put it in the rubbish for you.”

  Mum puts everything she doesn’t like in the rubbish, including old photo albums of Daddy with his friends.

  I hang my head. Dad has to be a monster or Mum will take him away like she took Mr Chou.

  “Why are you crying, Zoe?” Dad inches closer, and Mum’s hold on me tightens.

  “Because you were yelling, Jason,” Mum mutters and digs her nails in my arm. “Isn’t it, Zoe?”

  I wince but press my lips and nod frantically.

  “I want to talk to her alone,” Dad says.

  Dad and I rarely have alone time. When he has a few days off, Mum either sends me to a camp or doesn’t leave my side. She makes sure to school me every time that if I say anything out of the ordinary, she’ll punish me.