by Rina Kent
I’m still mulling his words when he thrusts deep inside me in one go. I yelp. He fills me whole, expanding me from the inside out. And it hurts. I cover my eyes with the back of my hand.
He stills and traces my lips with the tip of his fingers. His voice is full of concern. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
He starts moving, slow and measured. All pain fades away. Instead, a consuming sensation builds beneath the surface. My stomach contracts and my inner walls clench around him. Crow removes my hand from my face and kisses me so deeply, so ravenously, heat erupts all over my skin.
He pulls out of me, dragging his length against my folds then slams into me again. I gasp and whimper and moan all at once. I’m a shaking, trembling mess, and I love every bit of it.
Crow always pushed me to the edge. He always made me feel unearthly things. This intense sensation is one of them.
He picks up his pace, pounding into me until I’m at that addictive place all over again. My stomach nearly takes flight with him filling me, hammering into me relentlessly.
“Crow... I-I’m... I-I-m...”
“Let go,” he growls into my ear.
The order is like a bomb detonator. I come apart all around him. The impact is so much more intense than earlier. So fulfilling, I don’t want to come down to the world of the living. I clench around him with so much force, he curses, his face morphing into ecstasy.
I’m still blown away by the waves when Crow grunts from the back of his throat and spills inside me.
We shatter together. Something breaks as our bodies mingle into each other. The flow of flooding energy and emotions between us is like breathing life into one another.
Still panting, Crow flips me over so he’s on his back and I’m lying on top of him.
We lie in each other’s arms, breathing heavily, with him still seated deep inside me. I rest my cheek in the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his leather scent. My fingertips trace the side of his muscles where the little birds take flight.
“What do the birds mean?” I murmur.
His finger traces the line of my shoulder. “Why do you think they mean something?”
“I kind of guessed it.” I smile up at him and get caught by those blond strands falling over his forehead.
“It’s my age.”
“Thirty-six.” My cheeks redden and quickly follow up with, “Not that I have been counting.”
“You’re so fucking adorable.” He kisses the top of my head and I melt.
“Why did you tattoo your age?” I ask, still tracing the birds.
“It was the only thing I remembered since I was kidnapped. Probably because I engraved it in my skin before they gave us Omega. It’s the only thing I’m sure about.”
My chest squeezes so hard, tears spring to my eyes. It’d be a lie to say I hate my father. He was absent most of the time, but he was my father. I can’t just hate him, but I hate everything he’s done to Crow. I despise and loathe him for it.
I stroke Crow’s chest and murmur, “I’m so sorry for what my father did to you.”
“Why are you apologising for something you didn’t do?”
“I’m his daughter and… I still love him, anyway. He’s Dad and will always remain that way for me.”
“You have nothing to do with what he’s done. Team Zero needs to understand that, too.” His arm tightens around my waist, it’s almost painful as he growls. “I would kill them all for you.”
I close my eyes, snuggling closer to him.
Crow didn’t only make me forget death as he promised, but he also made me want to battle it.
I want to live. And I want to live with him.
13
Crow
Eloise’s warm body is entangled around mine.
I tilt my head back to stare at her sleeping face. With each second I get trapped in her tiny features, I become sure about two things. One: she looks so fucking beautiful when asleep. Two: I would do anything to keep that peaceful expression on her face.
I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, fingers gliding on her soft skin. What had I done to deserve someone like her? I sigh. I can’t get enough of her. I can’t stop touching her. I can’t even remember my fucking life before her.
She got under my skin so easily, so effortlessly, like she has always belonged there.
Now it’s my job to protect her. Even if it means my own fucking death.
And I did mean it about kidnapping her. If she continues being stubborn, I’ll throw her tiny body over my shoulders and get the fuck out of here.
Eloise stirs, her fingers brushing against my bare chest as she moans in her sleep. The sound springs my erection to life all over again. I groan. There she is, fast asleep, not paying the slightest attention to the effect she has on me.
Cheerio trots inside, her tail wiggling back and forth. She tugs on the edge of the sheet. When I ignore her, she woofs.
“Shush.” I put a finger on my lips. “Let her sleep.”
The dog huffs and nudges my leg. She must be really hungry.
With a groan, I slip from underneath the sheets and carefully place Eloise’s head on the pillow. Thankfully, she remains asleep.
Cheerio runs ahead of me towards the kitchen, still wiggling her tail.
I can’t believe I’ve become a fucking dog’s caregiver.
After I dig into the cupboard under the sink, I find the dog treats and fill Charlotte’s bowl until it overflows. She won’t be bothering us for a while. Then, I head back to the stairs. I only left Eloise a few minutes ago, but it feels like an eternity.
I’m so fucking screwed over this woman.
A breeze comes from the open window, bringing in the chill of a summer night. I close it and pull on the curtains. If we’re staying here, I need to tighten the security. Needless to say, Eloise won’t be going back to work for now. Or ever. If I convince her to leave.
On my way back to the stairs, my phone vibrates on the coffee table. Could be Storm.
My muscles lock as I stare at the screen. It’s not Storm. It’s the one person I swore to never belong to any more.
Hades.
I clear my throat and answer. “Crow speaking.”
“Crow.” His voice is as composed as I remember. Posh. Plummy. There is no way anyone would guess that such a refined-sounding gentleman is the keeper of hell. “How is your holiday in Southern France?”
“I wouldn’t call it a holiday, but it’s fine.” I lean against the table’s edge, fingering my gun. I never needed a distraction whenever I talked to Hades, but now, I fucking do.
All I think about is that he took years of my existence and moulded me into his own killing machine. It might’ve not been a happy life before, but it belonged to me. That orange cat, those dirty slums, and that Russian mother were my identity. Hades erased them all, leaving me as nobody.
Not to mention that the monsters he created, Team Zero, are now threatening the only thing that makes me feel like a person again. I found someone to belong with and she’s become a target. I don’t care if Hades is the carer of hell, if he endangers the life I’ve found, I’ll make it my job to crumble that hell over his fucking head.
“You will be out of France in a week,” he says in an absent-minded voice as if he’s preoccupied with something else. “I need you to kill the Rhodes. Every one of them is worth ten million. Bring me their heads and you might get more. I expect results.”
The line goes dead. Hades only calls to dictate orders. Nothing else deserves his time.
I don’t give a fuck about the Rhodes. In fact, I respect them for wreaking havoc in Hades’ hell. No matter how much he tries, The Pit’s assassins will continue to defect. Sooner or later, Hades will be the only one left in his hell.
I lean against the table, fingers tapping on the wood. But how do I escape Hades? Not only would he hunt me down if I defect, but also, that fucker Ghost placed a Joker card on Eloise. She’s a target now. I’ll be a target if I defect.
And I’ll defect. I just need to think of a good strategy to do it. First, I need to make Hades believe I’m after the Rhodes.
As for Eloise, the only way I can think of protecting her is to drag her by force and escape to the other end of the world. But I’m delusional if I think that Team Zero won’t catch up to us. It’s our thrill to track and hunt.
Besides, do I want to force her on an endless, dangerous run after she’s finally trying to live? I can handle that type of life, but she can’t. She’s always loved her home. It would devastate her if she can’t look at her grandfather’s picture and tell him she loves him or write notes to put in that big jar she’s been hiding from me.
An urgent need to see her face overwhelms me. Once I hold her close and sink into her warmth, things will become better. I might even find a solution to this whole fucking mess.
After taking two steps, I freeze. My entire body leaps to attention. The wind blows the curtains away from the window. The same window I closed not long before. I know, even before seeing it, that he’s here.
In Team Zero, only two members use the wind and nature’s elements to their advantage: Ghost and Shadow. With all the evidence pointing in his fucking way, it can only be one person.
Ghost.
I lunge towards my gun and point it at the shadows where he always lurks. Instead of attacking, he strolls out of his hideout, hand in his pocket and a relaxed expression on his face. He’s even wearing that pressed suit like he’s attending a fucking fashion show in Paris.
“Chill, mate. I’m not here to kill.”
I don’t release my gun. “Then what the fuck are you here for?”
“A deal?”
I keep my weapon pointed at him, trying to read the lines of his face. His brown eyes are cool, posture is completely relaxed. Useless. He’s as blank as a board. “What deal?”
“The Rhodes.” He leans against the wall, ankles crossed. “Hades is at our arses, wanting us to get rid of them, but we have other priorities.”
By ‘other priorities’, he means that he’s being elusive as fuck. I’ve known him for decades and I still don’t know what the fuck is going on in his head.
Since he’s saying ‘we’. I assume his other mates from Team Zero are involved.
“Let me guess. You want me to take care of the Rhodes.”
His lips quirk up. “That’s the idea.”
“What do I get in return?”
“My eternal gratitude?” When I keep glaring at him without saying a word, he gives me the ‘you-are-boring look’. “I won’t kill your nurse.”
My blood boils just hearing him utter those words. I’m very tempted to pull the trigger and paint the wall with his brains. Only, well, Eloise spent a lot of time cleaning them. “When did you find out that she was Dr fucking Johnson’s daughter?”
“When I received her file.”
“You mean when you sent the file.” I’m going to fucking kill him for putting her life in danger. Unless I can convince him to cancel the Joker card. It’s never happened before, but there’s a first time for everything.
Ghost raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t send the file.”
“The fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who placed the Joker card on her.”
“Not me, mate.” He retreats to the shadows, waving a hand. “I suggest you start digging.”
I stare at the window and the curtain flipping inside. My shoulders turn more rigid than when Ghost came in.
He has no reason to lie. Since he asked for assistance, he wouldn’t have glued a Joker to Eloise.
If it isn’t Ghost, then who the fuck is it?
14
Eloise
Crow has been on edge for the past week. Every day, he tries to take me away, but I’ve refused.
He spent the entire time building fences around the house, planting traps on the perimeters and what looked like bombs and other things I don’t want to know about. He only gave me the map of where all these traps were. He said that Charlotte is fine since her weight wouldn’t trigger them.
Not that he allows me outside so I’d be caught by traps. The only time we go out is so he can teach me how to shoot in the front garden. I never expected to like it, but shooting is fun. Especially since I have Crow as a teacher, and he might have done a few lessons half-naked. Needless to say, I missed the target those times.
Other than that, we stay inside. All the curtains are pulled down until no light comes through.
Every hour or so, he’d suggest kidnapping me to God knows where.
I dislike seeing him antsy, but I also won’t live on the run for the rest of my life. Deep down, I think a side of him knows this, too, but the other controlling side – the killer side – is pushing him to act and do something about the danger.
He’s currently watching from beneath the curtains of my bedroom’s window that overlooks the front of the house. He’s only wearing black boxers. His back muscles and hard thighs are outlined by the little light slipping through the opening.
My bottom lip rolls behind my teeth. I try to concentrate on an old locked room mystery novel I found in Papa’s library. Not that I’ve been able to read anything. I’ve been rereading the same paragraph without registering a word.
It’s impossible to concentrate when there’s such an irresistible view in front of me.
All those muscles and hardness and tattoos make it so difficult not to jump him even when he’s so rigid.
It’s not that I’m not scared, but with Crow next to me, the danger doesn’t feel as imminent. Besides, he said he called his closest colleagues and asked them to back off. No one has shown up for a week, so either they don’t care about revenge or they respect Crow enough not to come near me.
Even if there’s still a risk of someone showing up, I won’t cower in fear waiting to die.
I’ve been numb for so long that when life hit me in the face, I’d rather live the moment instead of worrying about tomorrow or what-ifs.
And at the moment, life is filled with this man. A smothering heat courses through me while I just watch him.
I shift, trying to rein in whatever is happening in my body. It’s become completely foreign ever since Crow touched me.
Charlotte whines in her sleep as if reprimanding me for moving while she’s lying on my lap.
I can’t help it, ma petite.
“This is fucking crazy. I can’t believe I’m waiting for death with folded arms.” Crow groans, finally leaving the window to shoot daggers at my face. “We’re leaving.”
“No, we’re not.” I smile. As much as his bossiness is sometimes over the top, he kind of looks like a kid when he’s grumpy.
“What are you smiling for?” He stalks towards me with a dark gleam in his bottomless blue eyes.
“Nothing.” I try to focus on the novel for the thousandth time.
“Nothing, huh?” He pulls both my legs in a single yank.
I yelp as I lie on my back. The novel drops by the side of the bed. My pulse skyrockets, and as usual, my skin grows a mind of its own under his touch.
Charlotte woofs as she hops from the bed to avoid falling over.
“Shut it, Cheerio.” He doesn’t even look at her, his fingers sliding up my leg and underneath my satin gown. “This is my place now.”
Shivers break on my skin, and my stomach throbs. I don’t have a way to stop this flow of energy coursing through me even if I want to.
And I don’t want to.
Crow digs his fingers in my thighs until I whimper. “Are you going to stop this nonsense and leave with me?” He’s growling, trying to scare me, but he can’t hide the lust blazing in his eyes.
I reach out a hand, cup him through his boxers, and stroke lightly. His erection surges to life in an instant. A guttural moan rips from the back of his throat as he tilts his head back.
In the time he’s been trying to take me away, I’ve been doing my best to distract him. Not only to alleviate the tension residing in his sho
ulders, but also to make us both come alive.
Even if it’s for a short period of time.
The safety I find in his arms is addictive.
He’s addictive.
“You can’t keep seducing me forever, you know.” He sounds strained as his erection keeps growing underneath my fingers.
I lick my lips, looking up at him. “I can try.”
His mouth crashes into mine, and he pulls me towards him with so much ferocity that it knocks the living breath out of my lungs.
I hold onto his neck with all my might because this, the now, is all I have.
And if it’s everything I get out of life, then so be it.
I yawn as I stumble into the kitchen, Charlotte hot on my heels.
It seems like all the sleepless years are taking their toll on my body. Or it’s because Crow exhausts the hell out of me that I have no energy.
Or both.
Thankfully, I don’t have to work for the time being. I miss Céline and the patients, and Xavier has been calling to check up on me, but I needed this holiday.
I haven’t taken an appropriate time off for years. Not even after Maman died.
“Merde,” I curse when I find Charlotte’s food can empty. “No more food, Charlotte.”
She stares between me and the can with those puppy eyes and barks.
I bite the inside of my cheek. That look has always been my weakness. “I’ll go fetch you some.”
“Go where?”
I startle at Crow’s low tone and turn around, a hand on my chest. “You scared me.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He stands in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing black trousers and a T-shirt. His shadowed features make him appear like a faceless grim reaper.
Which I guess he is, in some way. But I couldn’t care less about that part. All I see is the man inside him.
“Charlotte has no food left,” I say. “I need to get her some.”
“I’ll give her my ham.”
I sigh, approaching him. “And then what? We will both be out of food. I haven’t done grocery shopping for a week.” He opens his mouth but I cut him off, “And don’t even say delivery. No one comes out here. I have to fetch my own mail from town.”