Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

Sounds like a plan.

I hang up and continue watching my surroundings. It’s a bit safer since Liam has my back.

He and Zoe are the only people I would allow to do that.

My steps become more confident. This will go well. Liam will catch Mist’s contact and then her.

Wait.

Mist isn’t stupid to deal with someone who could betray her.

My steps falter and the bag slips over my shoulder.

Shit. It’s a trap!

She planned this to set me up. This delivery is the perfect way to know if I spy for the police.

The bitch.

I turn off my phone and dart between the throngs of people. Misleading Liam isn’t a bright idea and he would strangle me for going into this head-first, but Mist could have someone watching me. If they find out about Liam, I’m finished. Worse, he’ll also be finished.

Even though it eats at me to distribute the poison in the bag, I have to make the transaction. At least, I will gain their trust. Once they think I’m harmless, I’ll have more access to information. Then, maybe next time, I will lead Liam to the nest of drug dealers.

I sprint between people. The heels dig into my feet like needles. I round the corner, and the crowd thins to a few people. Probably because I’m approaching the slums. If Mist didn’t insist I go in a dress and heels, I would’ve worn something sporty. I can’t even punch or fight properly in this outfit. Maybe that was the redhead witch’s plan all along.

The place in which the transaction will take place is a pub that looks straight out of World War Two brochures. Scarlett would love this for her trivia.

A ‘Renovation’ sign hangs on the worn out wooden door, but there’s no sound of workers.

I touch my bracelet one more time and open the door. The squeak almost makes me jump.

My heartbeat pounds against my chest as I step inside.

I’m strong. I can do this.

Afternoon light filters through the windows’ blurry glass, highlighting the thick layers of dust on old wooden tables and chairs. Ripped vintage wallpaper covers the walls. The smell of humidity ripples in the air.

I stop near the empty bar. Familiar places always give me a sense of calm.

“Hello?” My voice is small.

Come on. I need to get it together. What can they do?

Besides kill me.

God. Misleading Liam was such a bad idea. If I survive this, he’ll be the one to skin me alive.

“Hello?” I call again, a little louder. I’m here already. I need to make this transaction at any cost.

“Hey, babe.” I flinch at the familiar voice. Then, when the face slips into view, my fists clench.

The man who cornered Hayley in the alley. Johnny, if I remember correctly.

He’s smirking and that makes that faded scar uglier. His hand is wrapped in a cast, the other inert by his side. The jacket he’s wearing makes him appear a lot more buff than he actually is. Lust-filled eyes weigh me up and down. He stops at my cleavage and makes a disgusting show of licking his upper lip.

Seems like the twat needs to be made impotent to understand his lesson.

“Heard you have something for me.” He motions at my bag. “I never thought ye would be comin’ over. I love ‘em feisty women. So much more fun to break, innit, babe?”

He advances. I widen my steps, hands in front of me, palms up. “Back off!” I shout in my loudest, throatiest tone. He’s injured so I can take him and punch that ugly smirk off his face, but something about his confidence grates at me.

I kicked him. He knows I can do it again, so it doesn’t make sense that he’d underestimate me.

“That really hurt the other time, babe.” He towers over me, his eyes turning a glassy shade of blue. “Because of you, I had three bones broken and I couldn’t piss without pain for two days.”

Serves him right.

But I didn’t break his bones – no matter how much I would’ve liked to. What the hell is he talking about?

I need to be smart about this. This transaction means my official stepping stone into Le Salon. As much as I would like to jam my fist in Johnny’s face, this isn’t the time to do it.

Look at me being all diplomatic and shit. Zoe would be proud of me.

With a resigned sigh, I remove the bag from my shoulder and offer it to him. “There. Mist sends her regards.”

Once he takes it from my hand, I turn to the exit. The need to run the hell out of here pulses in my veins like hot fire.

My head bumps into a large chest. I step backwards, stance wide. Two buff men barge inside the deserted pub. Bald heads and massive physiques.

Oh. Shit.

What the hell was Mist thinking? Does she want me dead or something?

My back hits another chest. Johnny’s. He’s still smirking.

“Time to pay, babe.”

“Three to one?” I smile while my gaze strays to my side, looking for a possible exit. “Isn’t that too much?”

No exit. Johnny is blocking the back door, and the two men are obstructing the entrance.

Time to fight.

Energy pulses through me as I count my options. Not that I have many. Johnny is the easiest one. I definitely don’t want to go against his buff companions.

One of the men goes for my arm. I duck and use the spin to kick Johnny in the crotch. The tip of my heels squashes his penis until he’s wheezing in pain.

He falls to the ground, cursing, and face reddening.