Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

My heart warms. That’s so similar to what Zoe would say when I went home bruised and bleeding.

‘They look a lot worse than me,’ was what I used to say, but I can’t tell Scar that. I was a weakling and couldn’t defend myself.

My head hangs in shame and self-loathing. I want to hate Julian, too, for witnessing my embarrassment, but I can’t seem to do that.

Instead, I tell Scar, “Julian says I have to stay with him.”

“Julian can go fuck himself.”

I burst into laughter until my lips burn, and I wince. She’s probably the only one who can talk about Julian like that and get away with it.

Even if she’s the number one escort and gets constant offers from other entertainment parlours, it’s curious why she’s not the least bit phased by any of the high-ranked leaders.

The other girls do flirt with Kyle, and I catch them making eyes at Shadow and Julian, but they’re also fearful of them. I heard them once gossiping about the thrill and danger of being with men like them.

Scar, on the other hand, doesn’t give a damn about any of that. She’s created her own world, and the rest of Le Salon isn’t allowed inside.

Aside from the endless blasting of Oasis’ music and flipping between subjects, she’s fun to live with. Even the old rock songs are starting to grow on me.

Soft music fills the air as countless rich men huddle on the sofas. The girls hang onto their words, laughing and touching them. Nothing too scandalous, just ‘appetisers’ in Le Salon’s vocabulary.

Most of the girls give me dirty looks as I brush past them. The guards don’t even pay me any attention as if I’m an invisible outcast. Even when Scar dressed me in a beautiful turquoise dress that bares half my back complete with pearly pumps.

“Are they still salty about how Kyle treated me at his birthday party?” I whisper to Scar.

She reaches into her small bag and sprays sweet cherry perfume all around us. “No, it has to do with that one who can go fuck himself.”

“Julian?” I almost squeak.

Scar waves at a patron, and he waves back frantically. Her smile is really like a doll’s. No wonder all the customers fall at her feet. She gets to choose who deserves her company.

She says, “Julian issued orders to back off. You’re under his protection. Meaning you’re his or whatever.”

“I’m not his, and I don’t need his protection!” Heat rises to my cheeks, but surprisingly, it’s not all anger.

A stupid part rejoices that Julian spread the word about me. Then, I realise that he must’ve done it because he doesn’t trust me. My mood dampens. Besides, he has Mist. Why the hell does he thinks he can act like my owner?

“You tell him, Ellie!” Scar squeezes my arm. Then, she readjusts her breasts and pats the countless fuchsia layers of her mid-thigh dress. “How do I look?”

I stare at her, incredulous. “Does that even need to be asked? You’re stunning.”

“Like drop-dead-gorgeous stunning?”

“Absolutely.” I touch her arm, feeling foolishly protective of her. The man who’s checking her out from across the table stares at her with a filthy expression. I don’t like it. My fingers itch to poke his eyes out. “Do you have to go?”

“Of course.” She doesn’t appear the least bit fazed as she pinches her cheeks. “Did you know that Rome wasn’t built in a day?”

“Yeah?”

“Think about it, Ellie.” Scarlett grins and saunters to the well-groomed middle-aged man.

I watch until she disappears with him in the lift. He has a hand on the small of her back and she’s laughing in that bubbly energy.

Why is she even doing this job? Perhaps Liam and I can help her out. Although I doubt someone like Scar needs help.

I busy myself behind the bar, preparing cocktails and keeping an eye on the entrance. Julian would kill me if he finds me, but I take that risk to search for Ghost. Is he perhaps in Mist’s office?

Why did Zoe give him the bracelet? The answer is: she wouldn’t. It was as dear to her as my firefly bracelet. Unless Ghost kept the jewellery as a trophy.

My stomach knots. No. I’m sure she’s alive.

I have to believe she is.

Fingers glide over my arm as I reach for a vodka bottle on a high shelf.

“I missed ye around, love.” Kyle retrieves the bottle and hands it over. His watchful gaze lingers on my face. “Who dared to ruin yer beautiful features?”

“An arsehole.” I grin, then wince when pain erupts in my lower lip.

He cups my cheek. “At least, they’re taken care of.”

I forget all about the need to pull away and stare at him with a gaping mouth. “They’re... dead?”

“Shh.” He winks. “It’s a secret. Godfather doesn’t like talking about his heroic missions.”

“Godfather?”

He pauses. “Julian.”

Julian killed them? My toes curl. The good kind. The stupid, happy kind. It doesn’t make sense to be happy that he killed for me, but I don’t feel the least bit sorry for those scumbags.

I place the bottle of vodka on the counter. “Johnny, too?”

“Nah, love.” Kyle doesn’t remove his hands. “That would get us all in grand trouble. Godfather isn’t an idiot.”