by Rina Kent
He cuts off when I raise my hand. In a second, Nero is behind the girl’s slumped body on the chair. His gun points at her temple.
Johnson’s eyes almost bulge from their sockets. His body leans towards her, but he doesn’t move. He knows I can blow her head in a mere second.
So, like the smart person he is, he slowly faces me and speaks low. “She has nothing to do with this. Let her fucking go or I swear…”
“She’s my ticket against you, Johnson.” I lean forward so both my elbows are on the table. “You dare ignore my calls and stall with me? No one denies me anything. I’ll wrench you by the gut and kill you a slow death before you say no to me again.” I motion at the girl. “Your choice is simple. Test Type Omega or watch your French doll die a horrible death. Ah. I will bury her so deep, you will never even find her body.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his reaction this time. His fists clench and slams his fist in my face and hauls me off my feet by my collar. That hurt. I was never a physical person.
Nero points his gun at Johnson while keeping his hand on the girl’s shoulder. I shake my head and meet Johnson’s furious eyes with a smile. Angry people are easy. Angry people care.
“You will leave her the fuck out of this,” he snarls.
“Test Omega.” My tone is calm.
He shoves me away. “What exactly have you given her?”
“Type Omega sample. My people have been putting it in her drinks and food since that day you asked her out. The bartender. Your building’s receptionist. Taxi drivers. She looks alive, no? One more reason to test it.”
“You fucking…” He breathes through his nose then mumbles to himself. “That’s why she’s been fainting.”
“What’s a risk without side effects?”
“Omega isn’t stable yet. Children will die.”
“They were dead anyway.” I meet his gaze and motion at Nero’s gun. “Now say yes or watch her brains being blown.”
“Fine. I’ll start the test and you will leave her alone.”
I smile. Stupid fucking little people. Even Johnson can be swept away by such meaningless emotions. I button my jacket. “If anything happens, we always have her as a bargaining chip.” I pat his rigid shoulder. “Take good care of her, Johnson.”
“One more thing.” He’s in my face in a second, his nostrils flaring. “I made Omega. If I decide to fuck it up and your entire organisation, I will. If you, near or far, threaten Camille’s life again, I will destroy you and bathe in your fucking blood.”
Now that’s more like the ruthless Johnson I know. Still, he will keep Omega going because it’s his only guarantee that I won’t touch his French doll.
I smile on my way out.
The Pit is officially starting.
Let the fun begin.
24
Camille
My temples throb. My throat itches and feels dry and sandy like the desert.
I crack my eyes open and find myself on the bed in Dominic’s flat. Night has staked its claim outside. Soft white light illuminates the room.
The sheets rustle as I sit up, cradling my head.
Dominic sits by the side of the bed, holding a bottle of water. I snatch it and gulp half of it down in one go. The cool liquid soothes my scratchy throat.
Once I’m done, Dominic takes the bottle. My eyes roam his broad shoulders covered by a white T-shirt. The cloth stretches over his muscles as he twists to place the bottle on the nightstand.
My lower lip rolls behind my teeth as I admire the view. Even the throbbing in my temple is forgotten.
How can a simple motion turn me into a bundle of need?
Dominic faces me again, and although he catches me staring, he doesn’t give any of those infuriating smirks. If anything, his face is closed.
“Hi,” he says.
“Salut.” I smile and point at my head. “What happened?”
“We walked under the sun for so long. You fainted from perspiration.”
“Oh.” I pout. Who the hell does that? It’s so lame. I ruined the chance to spend as much time as physically possible with Dominic today.
“Are you tired?” He takes my hand in his and places two fingers on the pulse point in my wrist. There’s a frown between his eyebrows. “Do you feel like vomiting or fainting? Are you dizzy? Have you had any weird fatigue lately?”
That balloon grows in my heart as I realise that Dominic, who’s never concerned about anyone, is worried about me.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant if that’s what you’re asking,” I say in a joking tone. “I won’t tie you down just yet.”
Dominic grinds his teeth so hard that his jaw ticks. He drops my hand as if he touched fire.
My stomach sinks.
“I was kidding,” I whisper.
We always joke around. Why is he being defensive now?
He meets my gaze again, and this time, the deep brown of his eyes is shining with a tenderness that causes my heart to pound.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is quiet. Genuine. Calm. Too calm.
Dominic doesn’t do apologies. Dominic is the type of shameless who takes what he wants whatever and whenever and in any way he wants without any regrets.
So when he apologises out of freaking nowhere, I know something is wrong. Totally wrong.
We were having so much fun today. We were even talking about a hypothetical future that’s starting to grow on me without my damn permission.
What changed between this noon and now?
“Should I be scared?” I murmur, fighting against the tightness in my throat.
The tenderness disappears from his face. His dark eyes plunge in a frightening hollowness. It’s sombre and deep and entirely vacant. My fingers dig into the sheets as a shudder draws up my spine.
“Scared? You should be terrified, Camille.” His voice is monotonic, completely devoid of the Dominic I know. “Are you naïve enough to think you’re safe with me? Perhaps you thought you’re special because we fuck? You’re just another victim of mine, Camille.”
His words sting. Tingles start in my nose and pressure builds behind my eyes, but I rein it in. He’s being harsh on purpose. None of those words are true. The man who held me close today while walking in the streets was the sincere one. This one isn’t.
“You’re lying.” I stare him straight in the eyeball. “I’m the only one who can detect your lies, remember, Dom? I don’t know why you’re lying but save it. I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
The monster mask is still strapped around his features. “You believed me enough when I made you think you were special. I only did that to fuck with you some more. You gave me a challenge, Camille, and I love destroying my challenges.”
“Liar,” I say the word calmly. “I’ve already made myself a cosy little place in your heart, you know. Your heart and I are like the best buds and we’re both agreeing that you’re lying through your teeth. So try again, Dom.”
I don’t get a warning before Dominic’s lips crash to mine. His strong hand grabs my nape as his mouth claims me. I gasp then moan.
His shoulders hunch and his kiss tastes of passion, surrender, and regret. All at once.
I’m dizzy by the time he gives us much-needed air. My eyes get lost in his turbulent ones. Dominic is baring me his soul. There’s no emptiness or calculations or the need to push me away. There’s only a deep sense of sadness that baffles the hell out of me.
I reach a hand and palm his stubbled cheek. Everything in me itches to erase that depressing look. “What is it, Dom? You can tell me anything.”
“Don’t ever marry the French lawyer.”
“Uh… okay?” I’m sure I appear as confused as I sound. “What does the French lawyer have to do with this?”
“I mean it. You know I’m crazy enough to murder the fucker.”
I smile. “No snobbish wife for you either?”
He grins, and my chest feels lighter. “You’re the only woman for me, baby girl.”<
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My heart is about to grow wings and take flight, but Dominic stops it with a hungry kiss. This one is slow and intimate and knocks the breath out of my lungs.
Warmth smothers my body as Dominic pulls me into him. Somehow, our clothes end up on the floor. Somehow, we’re locked around one another.
When Dominic slides into me, he doesn’t pound in me as urgently as we’re used to. This time, he takes his sweet time peppering kisses along my neck and my mouth and all over my body. He doesn’t tie me or hold me down. He savours me and never breaks eyes contact as he drives me to thrilling pleasure. The intimacy and adoration in his gaze undo me.
Literally.
Figuratively.
When I scream his name, it’s like I’ve been taken to an inch of my life.
I love him. There’s no point in denying it anymore.
I love my sociopath.
In the morning, I’m too exhausted and can barely open my eyes.
Dominic held me so tightly to sleep last night, it was a bit painful.
He’s nowhere in the room this morning. He must’ve gone to work already. I can’t believe I ruined spending time with him on his rare day off.
I shove my legs into shorts and yank a tank top over my head. A shower would be a good idea but I’m enjoying Dominic’s a bit too much for that.
I stumble to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and needing coffee like I need air.
There’s already a steaming pot on the counter. Toast and jam, too. I hardly hold in a squeal. Look at me being spoilt shitless. I pour some coffee in my favourite mug and take the first sip. My head hurts less and the chaos slowly fades away.
When sleep gradually leaves my eyes, I take a bite from the toast with jam, finish it in no time and go to the next. No idea why I’m always hungry this period.
It’s stupid and foolish, but I can see our future together. Me, him, and that little girl from my dreams. Dominic isn’t an easy man to live with. He’s edgy and abnormal, but I love that about him. He’s everything and more than I hoped for in an adventure.
Only now, he can be my permanent adventure.
I would never give up my studies for him or for anyone else — not that he wants me to — but I’m sure we can come up with something. I can study European or international law. I will still have my dreams and him.
I smile into my mug as all these little images fill my head. I’m over the clouds by the time a throat clears from behind me.
He didn’t go to work! Maybe we will repeat yesterday after all.
With a big grin, I turn around, ready to jump him and –
My smile falls.
Dominic is standing at the threshold of the kitchen holding a suitcase in his hand. My suitcase.
There’s the hollowness he had when he was a mean monster yesterday. He’s also wearing his work suit.
Dread tightens my chest as I carefully place the coffee mug on the counter. The clink weighs heavily in the tomb silence surrounding us.
“Are we going on a trip?” I joke. “Ooh, is it northern England? I always wanted to go there. Maybe Scotland, too? I was in love just looking at the brochures and — ”
“You’re going home, Camille.”
His calm words slice through me like a thousand knives. My lips tremble, and chaotic, hurt emotions swirl around my head. “Why?”
“I had enough fun.” That full-of-shit smile plasters on his face. “It’s time to end it.”
“Fuck you, Dom.” This time, my eyes fill with tears and I can barely hold them in.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
I storm right at him and yank my suitcase from his hand. My passport and a plane ticket rest at the top.
A tear falls down my cheek, then another, and another. A sob tears from my throat as I recall last night. All that passion and love and tenderness. He was saying goodbye. I should’ve suspected it, but I was too caught in my foolish feelings to process it.
Since I woke up in his bed last night, he already planned to kick me out.
I look up at him through blurry eyes. There’s a hint of pain, but it’s strapped so neatly under the surface, I don’t know if it’s really there or if I’m imagining things.
When he notices me trying to fish something out, he tenses, then says in a mocking tone, “Aw, you’re crying? Surely you didn’t believe in the fairy tale, Camille.”
“You’re not Prince Charming, Dom. You’re the fucking villain.”
“You’re lucky to have survived this villain.”
“It’s funny.” I snort a humourless laugh. “I always preferred the villain.”
An unreadable expression covers his face. He looks about to say something, do something, but then he hides behind that empty mask.
He’s not keeping me. He doesn’t want to.
The bubble around my heart bursts open.
I brush past him to not dissolve into sobs in front of him. “You just shoved away the only person who loves you for who you are. What you are. I wish you die alone and lonely, Dominic.”
And with that, I’m out of the door. My legs are shaking and tears wouldn’t stop blurring my vision. Then, as the lift closes and Dominic doesn’t follow, I give up fighting and break down in tears.
My adventure is over. Finished.
Done.
25
Hades
I stand in the cabin at the top with my partners on each side of me. The glass allows us a view of what’s below, but they can’t see us. They just know we’re here.
God abandoned them, but we’re their new Gods.
Snotty children are lined up as Nero and his guards kick them to move. Some cry. Some just stifle the slaps and move along.
The ones who endure interest me the most. Something tells me they will be the ones to survive, too.
“Team Zero,” I say, without turning around to my partners. There are ten here. The other shareholders usually watch from the shadows.
“Team Zero?” Dr Sloane echoes. She’ll be part of the team that will supervise Omega’s trial. Dominic says it’s not stable and he’s been sleepless trying to improve it, but his opinion doesn’t matter. When I say it’s time to test, it will be time to test it.
“That’s their name.” I smile as I turn around and face my partners. Men and women. English, American, Russian, Italians, and Middle Eastern. I have them all in my partners. I’m all for diversity as long as they have the money I need to build this army.
After all, my assassins will kill their political opponents or anyone they want to be eliminated.
I motion for Dominic who has been standing in the corner with solemn features. He’s been having that bitch face since he sent the French doll back to her country a month or so ago. But he knows better than to defy me. I can always find her and kill her. No one hides from me on the face of this earth.
“Dr Johnson is the godfather of Omega,” I continue. “He will start the testing in the next few days.”
Johnson doesn’t say a thing.
I smile at my eager partners. “This a historical moment, ladies and gentlemen. Your army is being built.”
“Now.” I look at the children and spot the courageous ones. “Let’s name them. Crow, Ghost, Shadow, Mist, Hawk, Scar, Flame…”
My Team Zero.
26
Camille
Five months later,
* * *
The thing about moving on? C’est de la merde.
I barely said goodbye to Samir and Nancy that day. I went back to France, crying, and devastated and with Dominic’s scent all over me. Like a lovesick idiot. Like a teen rebel crawling back to her parents.
Maman hugged me and I cried in her chest for what felt like a day. I apologised over and over for worrying her and acting like a know-it-all.
Papa was different. I had to grovel for days on end until he finally hugged me.
I cried harder in his embrace, not because it took him long to forgive me, but because he warned me.
He said it in big capital letters ‘You’re a smart girl, Camille, but you like edges and sharp edges cut deep.’
I needed to be cut open to go back to his words.
Sometimes, my stupid heart refuses to remember that day when Dominic kicked me out. I just recall how he brought out my wild, dark side. How I slept cocooned in his arms. How we strolled London’s streets like the happiest couple.
Everything that happened in those months felt like a dream. Or a nightmare. Depending on which way to look at it.
I went back to college. It’s a bit of a challenge, but I can manage. It might be naive, but I know I can make a difference. One day, I will get my degree and become the voice of the unheard.
With a heave, I reach the top of the hill overlooking Marseille’s bright sea. The view of the rocky shore and sparkling water are to die for. It’s usually freezing in January, but today, the winter sun is so shiny and warm. I couldn’t resist coming here to do my homework.
I sit at my favourite rock at the top of the hill. This has always been my go-to place for reading. I’m alone and peaceful. Only the sound of waves accompanies me.
I’m such a nerd.
My heart twists remembering how Dominic told me that while offering me that charming grin that I still dream about.
I place a hand over my sweater on my engorged belly. Turns out, Dominic really knocked me up. This baby is probably the only reason why I’m not depressed. It’s giving me a reason to work hard for the future.
My belly is showing more now. Town folk and my colleagues are starting to give me the looks.
Screw their judgy eyes. I’m almost twenty-one and old enough to make my own decisions.
My own parents are so cool about my pregnancy. Maman even cried in joy when I told her the news. She keeps stuffing the house with baby clothes. Papa sat me down and talked to me one on one. He always did that.
He told me he’d support me in any decision I make. Then, he offered to fly to England and bring me the father on his knees. I refused.