by Rina Kent
My blood nears boiling. Our. As in hers and Julian’s. I knew they go back, but the way she says it makes it seem as if she’s the permanent wife and I’m just one of the countless mistresses in Julian’s life. One day, all this will be over, I’ll be gone, and Mist will remain by his side. Like she always has.
No matter how much I try to bottle the anger down, another stupid emotion surfaces. Hurt.
It hurts that I could be a nobody in this tale.
“I don’t trust you, Emmanuelle.” Mist’s light hazel eyes turn stone cold and her shoulders push back further. It’s so similar to the looks Julian and Shadow have when boxing. “I’m certain you will one day screw him over. When you do, I will butcher you with my own hands.”
A thousand retorts form at the back of my throat, but none of them come out.
“Tell Scar to find me. Immediately.” She turns and leaves. The clicks of her shoes sound down the hall.
A scary thought barges into my head. Did Zoe get involved with Shadow and Mist butchered her with her own hands? Mist and Shadow don’t seem close, but that could be a façade. Maybe the redhead witch is eliminating any threat to her circle.
Despite Mist’s threats, I’m not scared. It’s frustration that grips me by the gut. Or more like, I’m not scared of her or anyone else in this place. The only one who has me trembling in fear is Julian.
Just recalling that day when I went out without saying a word causes a shudder to shoot down my spine. He was so disappointed and angry with me. If he finds out I came here for Zoe, or that I’ve been helping Liam, his reaction could be a lot worse.
Sometimes, when he holds me close at night, I’m tempted to spill my guts, but after what Scar told me and the whole suspecting Shadow thing, I just can’t. He’s his best friend. I don’t want to make Julian choose. Probably because deep down, I know I won’t be picked. I’ll be thrown away, as Mist so eloquently put it.
Tears well in my eyes. I curse them and curse myself.
I wipe my face, and after I fix my makeup, I start down the hall. Who cares if Julian throws me away? I only came here for Zoe. Once I find that footage, I intend to leave, anyway.
My heart aches, but I ignore it and sneak to the control room. A breath leaves me when I make out only one guard inside. It’s Nick. The one who argued with Vladimir after Kyle was shot.
Lucky for me, Vladimir – the rule-abiding guard – is on duty outside Kyle’s room.
Nick doesn’t pay me any attention. But I did catch one of the girls giving him head once. He’s not immune.
I stalk back to the bar, grab a beer and mix it up with two of Scar’s sleeping pills.
Two beers in hand, I go inside the control room with a big smile on my face.
“Hey there, Nick. Working hard, aren’t you?”
He drags his gaze from the monitors, not that there’s anything to watch. The club has been closed for ‘renovation’ – as in fixing damage – for a couple of days.
Instead of being surprised, Nick gives a cheeky grin. “Ye’re not supposed to be ‘ere, sweetheart.”
“I just got bored drinking alone. Drink with me?” I offer him a bottle of beer.
“Julian knows about this?” He arches an eyebrow but accepts the drink anyway.
“Why does he need to know?” I play nonchalance as I sip from my drink.
“Well, sweetheart, ye’re his, so none of us is supposed to look at ye, let alone drink with ye.”
I sit on the sofa opposite him and take another swig. “But you’re obviously drinking with me.”
His gaze looms over me, pausing at my cleavage before he says, “Obviously, sweetheart.”
The prick is either not afraid of Julian or he doesn’t think I would report to Julian, which I won’t, of course, or Julian will start asking a thousand questions. He might even hurt Nick.
I don’t want that.
But why is Nick so ballsy to make eyes at a higher rank’s woman?
Perhaps, he, like Mist, know I will be out of here soon and there’s no point in keeping with protocol.
I rein in the ache trying to resurface and toast Nick. I keep chatting with him after he finishes his beer. Soon after, his eyes fight to flutter closed. He shakes his head a few times but it’s too late. He lies limp on the chair.
I spring to my feet and run a hand in front of his face. No motion. He’s fast asleep. I silently close the door.
My heart pounds as I tiptoe to the archive closet. The lock is basic. Nothing fancy. It’s strange they only protect their archives with this.
I retrieve my pin and work on it, all while keeping an eye on Nick and the entrance.
My palms turn sweaty. Working the lock takes me longer than usual.
Come on.
I draw in a deep breath and steady my hands. After a few tries, the lock opens.
Yes!
Excitement withers away when I make out what’s inside the closet.
A fucking safe. Metallic. Huge. Fingertip access and a pin code.
Dammit!
Why had I thought that I would find the archives scattered about? Of course they would protect it in something like this.
I want to bang my head against it. Now, what? Whose fingertip opens this anyway?
“Looking for something?” a chilly voice asks from behind me.
Oh. Shit.
23
Elle
My body stiffens. I hold my breath.
I’ve been found out.
But I closed the door and didn’t hear it open, how the hell did he get in? Not that it matters.
In Liam’s words: my mission has been compromised.
My heart falls to my knees as I slowly turn to face the one who will tell Julian all about this. My pulse heightens when I meet washed out blue eyes. His face is half-shadowed by a hoodie, but a few coppery strands of hair and a matching beard peek out. He’s watching me with the only bored expression he seems to have.
Ghost. In the flesh.
I haven’t seen him for weeks, and I’m sure it’s on purpose. Just like it’s on purpose that he’s suddenly appeared now.
My lips tremble. If he orders Julian to kill me or to hand me over to Johnny. Would he do it?
I close my eyes and breathe deeply before opening them. Julian wouldn’t hurt me. I have to believe that. Besides, I won’t think about dying. I will survive. I always do.
“You need help with that?” He motions at the safe. A portion of the flame tattoo disappears beneath his sleeve.
I circle back to what he asked. Is he offering to help me open the safe?
When I don’t answer, Ghost punches in a few numbers then scans his thumb. The safe clicks open. My jaw drops to the floor.
Countless files classified by month come into view. With flash drives, too.
“Why are you helping me?” My voice is cautious, and my body is rigid, ready to fight or flight. I can’t believe Ghost just opened the safe for me.
“I’m not helping you.” Instead of the detached expression, Ghost’s lips curve into a creepy grin. “I’m firing up things.”
My pulse is still pounding, but I keep staring at him as if that will solve a puzzle.
“Go ahead.” He cocks his head in Nick’s direction. “He’ll be up soon. The dose wasn’t that strong.”
Was he watching everything? He’s a ghost all right.
Not sure if it’s madness or instinct or both at the same time, but I turn around and dig into the safe. If Ghost wanted to hurt me, he would’ve done so already. If he plans to do something to me, then I would at least know what happened to Zoe.
I attack the month she disappeared in. I search for the day she last day called Liam; the 12th. My lips part. The file is there, but the footage isn’t.
What the hell?
“Are you looking for this?” A flash drive dangles in front of my face.
I whirl around. A satisfied gleam covers Ghost’s usually closed expression. And by usually, I mean what I’ve seen of him so
far. I can’t read him.
He’s certainly in a special mood today.
“Someone deleted that day’s footage.” His fingers glide over the flash drive as if caressing a docile pet. “But I restored it. I figured there would be a time when this little video would heat things a bit.”
No idea what he’s talking about. I only know that I need that footage. I’m trying to think of ways to snatch it away or beg if I have to.
Ghost surprises the shit out of me – again – when he says, “You can have it.”
Before he changes his mind, I reach out for it.
He holds it above my head out of reach. “Under one condition.”
Gee. Of course, it’s not that easy. I adopt my firm tone. “What is it?”
“You won’t tell anyone you got this from me.” His eyes turn robotic. Completely and utterly pale blue to the point of whitening. Like an ice storm.
What in the living hell is wrong with these people? Do they have a switch or something?
“If you do, I will find out.” He pauses and stands toe-to-toe. He’s taller, but he still pushes his shoulders back in clear menace. “You don’t want to witness my reaction.”
“Yes, fine.” I jump and yank the flash drive from his hand. “Not telling anyone. Got it, Ghost.”
His face fills with distaste. “Ghost?”
I angle away from him and slip the flash drive in my bra. “Well, aren’t you the notorious Ghost?”
“I’m not.” He appears quite offended. “Don’t insult me.”
And then he’s out of the door.
My jaw drops. If that isn’t Ghost, then who the hell is he?
Most importantly, who the fuck is Ghost?
I quicken my pace down the hall, needing somewhere safe and a laptop to watch the flash drive. Julian doesn’t have a laptop. Not one I’m aware of, anyway, and the computers around Le Salon aren’t safe to use.
I can ask Scar for help.
Strong hands surround my waist. My reflexes shoot, and I’m about to elbow him, but when I catch his deep, masculine scent with hints of cedar, my body caves against his.
Julian pulls me into a room, closes the door and pins me against the wood. The deep hunger and longing in his eyes send tingles down my spine.
I don’t even know what room we’re in. It’s dim and smells of dust as if it hasn’t been used in ages. But none of that matters. My eyes are glued to the darkness and intensity in Julian’s.
He’s about to devour me, and I’m craving him to do it.
“Firefly...” he rasps, and his fingers wrap around my neck. My pulse leaps to life. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”
“We’ve been together this morning.” Twice. And a third time in the shower. It’s become a routine. An addiction. I’m not sure I can ever detox.
“Not enough.” His nose nuzzles near my neck and he breathes me in. My heartbeat speeds into a frenzy, and I’m sure he can feel it under his thumb.
I brush thick strands of his hair back, trying to ease the tension in his shoulder. He’s more tense than usual. He’s been all wrapped up in President Joe’s business, the attack on the club and Kyle being shot.
And protecting me.
He’s protecting me from everyone else’s clutches. Shadow confirmed that Julian is standing up to Mist and the others for me.
It weighs on my heart that I’m not telling him everything. A stupid part of me wants to bare all and to hell with consequences. I don’t think I can continue to lie to him and to myself this way.
But the fear of being thrown away always stops me.
So I cling to whatever we have with all my might. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. My lips implore his, nibbling, and sucking.
“In all those meetings,” he whispers against my mouth. “All I could think about was you.” As if to prove a point, his knee yanks my legs apart and his erection presses into me. “What will you do about this, Firefly?”
It always makes me so proud when he seeks me out during the day. Sometimes, that happens right after we get here. I love that he can’t keep his hands or eyes off me. That I drive him just as crazy as he drives me.
In answer, I climb up his body and tighten my legs around his waist. My dress hikes up. Julian fumbles with his belt as he trails hot, urgent kisses down my neck. I’m a burning mess by the mere feel of his body against mine and his hands roaming all around me.
Once he moves to my breasts, I stiffen. The flash drive. Before he notices – and Julian always notices – I rub against his hardness so he’ll get inside me.
He doesn’t mind. He rips my lace undies with a grunt and throws it somewhere beside us. I yelp, but not from the ripping. It’s from the sparkling pleasure that surges through me.
He growls when his calloused fingers meet my slick, wet folds.
“Would you stop ripping my clothes?” I’m half-smiling half-scolding.
He nibbles on my bottom lip. “No.”
“Julian!”
“It was in the way.” He smiles in that carefree way that knots my heart.
He’s so damn beautiful. I’m officially ruined for anyone else.
Julian sinks inside me in one go. He drives into me hard, fast and relentless. My back bangs the door’s harsh wood with each thrust. The pain is erotically delicious. I grip his shoulders for balance as I’m driven over the edge. I scream his name, uncaring if anyone hears, and collapse against his shoulder.
A guttural groan rips from his throat as my insides fill with his warmth.
We remain like that for a minute with him seated deep inside me and his arms caging me. This moment, where he holds me close after intense sex, has become my addiction. My go-to drug. Beside the dopamine haze, this level of intimacy throws me into an endless loop and down the rabbit hole.
What would it be like if I had this forever?
Then, I recall Ma and Zoe. I don’t get forever. It just doesn’t work that way in my life.
Julian will disappear one day – or throw me away, as that redhead witch Mist said.
I should keep my mouth shut, but I can’t help asking against his neck. “I’m the only one, right?”
Julian pulls away to stare at me with an offended expression. “Of course. There’s no one like you, Firefly.”
Not even Mist? I want to ask that, but it’d be like admitting my stupid jealousy, so I remain shut.
A gleam shines in Julian’s eyes as he wraps a hand around my throat. “Are you possessive of me, Firefly?”
I want to say no, argue, and drown in denial. But the mere thought of any other woman sleeping in his strong, safe arms, having her hair stroked until she falls asleep, or having her clothes ripped by him makes me want to punch that bitch to death.
A sigh surges from inside me. “I don’t want you near any other woman.”
The darkness of his eyes sparks with an odd satisfaction. As if he likes my possessiveness of him. “I don’t want any other woman.”
His lips claim mine, and he kisses me long and passionate. I’m panting by the time he breaks away.
When he says nothing, I ask in an incredulous tone, “You won’t say ‘I don’t want you near other men’? I thought you would jump all over the opportunity.”
“Nah.” His teeth graze my earlobe, then he whispers in a hot, dark tone, “I will kill other men if they come near you.”
He would. I have no doubt this fucking crazy caveman would.
It makes me so unexplainably happy.
Because perhaps, I’ve been strong for too long and it’s with Julian that I don’t have to pretend anymore.
So I kiss him and let him fuck my brains out until he almost forgets about work.
After Julian goes back to his meeting, I head to the storehouse. Still sore from the delicious roughness and without undies thanks to the caveman Julian.
I smile like an idiot recalling how he scooped the torn undies off the ground and stuffed them in his pocket on his way out.
> Once I find a pair of knickers, I’ll ask Scar for a laptop.
I end up changing into something comfier; shorts and a tank top. Then I tuck the flash drive safely in my pocket. I should take a shower, but I’m enjoying Julian’s scent too much for that.
I turn the doorknob to get out when a shadow passes in my peripheral vision. I freeze and whirl around.
I’m not fast enough.
Shadow is already on my back like a grim reaper. His expression is closed, face unreadable. With his shoulders straightened, he’s even taller than his impressive height. His fists are clenched by his side as if he’s stopping himself from punching me.
Maybe he is.
My heartbeat skyrockets and my posture widens in defence. He’s been suspicious of me but he usually keeps his distance.
The key word being ‘usually’.
The shadows that gave his name are swirling in the metallic grey of his eyes. The need to run screeches inside me and dread fills my chest. No matter how much I try to hide it.
“I heard you have something of mine,” he says in a monotonous voice. “Give it.”
“What...” I swallow. “What are you talking about?”
“The footage.” His voice darkens with authority. “Give. It.”
Although fear is still there, anger outruns it by a mile. I point a finger at his chest. “Why? So you can hide your crime? What have you done to her, you sick bastard?”
I expect him to retort back or to use force, but Shadow freezes in place. There’s recognition in the deep grey as if pieces of a puzzle are falling together.
After what seems like forever, he barks a laugh. “How the fuck didn’t I figure this out earlier? The boxing. The snooping around. Following me about.” His features soften a little. “You’re Rage Ball.”
I stagger backwards as if being punched. “How... do you know that name?”
“Zoe told me about you.” His shoulders hunch. “She didn’t mention your name or any specifics about you. A nickname is all I got, but she raved about you being,” he air quotes, “her sister from another mister.”