Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

She says in a low tone, “Is this also an accident?”

“It is.”

“Do accidents include punching a wall?”

“So many questions, Firefly.” I retrieve my hand from hers and strap the bandage.

She’s watching me with a strange expression, close to sympathy, but not really. Why the hell would she pity me because of a wound?

I turn around, remove my shoes and lie on the bed. Exhaustion weighs on my mind, probably due to the pills. I need a few hours to regroup. I have no time for confusions caused by Elle.

“Where am I supposed to sleep if you take the bed?” she asks, followed by the sound of the first aid box being tucked under the bed.

“You can sleep on the bed, too,” I close my eyes. “It’s big enough.”

“Of course not!”

“Then sleep on the floor.”

“I will go back to my room with Scar.”

“No.”

“Ugh. Can’t you say yes for once?”

“No.”

“You’re infuriating, did you know that?”

“So many questions, Firefly.” Pain is shredding on my temples again. “I need to sleep.”

She actually says nothing, and I’m thankful because just like my detoxification, I need silence in order to sleep.

The mattress dips. I crack one eye open. Elle is carefully sliding onto the edge of the bed.

Well, look at that. I was testing her bluff earlier. I thought she would rather sleep on the carpet than share a bed with me.

My chest expands with something similar to... gratefulness? Relief? No idea what it is but it’s messing with my head.

She turns around so her half-bared back is facing me. Her dress is hunching up to the middle of her pale thighs and her neck is on display. The urge overwhelms me this time.

Screw it.

I edge closer and wrap my arm around her waist from behind. My front is glued to her warm back. Where I’m hard, she’s soft and… right.

Elle gasps and tries to wiggle free. I tighten my hold to keep her in place.

She twists her head to stare at me. There’s surprise in the depth of her eyes, but there’s also something as unexplainable as what I’m feeling.

When she speaks, her voice is barely a murmur. “What are you doing?”

I don’t know.

All I’m sure of is that I need her close, and I’m in no mood to fight it.

Elle tries to free herself again, but it’s half-arsed. She’s not even putting in the effort. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Julian!” she whisper-yells.

My chin rests on her shoulder and I inhale the fruity scent. She freezes as I say, “This is just a precaution. Who knows what you will do when I’m asleep.”

“I won’t do anything. I promise.”

“Still a no,” I whisper against her ear. “My bed. My rules.”

Her hands stop moving against mine and she sucks a sharp breath. The pulse in her neck nearly jumps out. My fingers itch to wrap around her throat and feel it under my thumb. But if I do, I won’t be able to stop this time.

Elle doesn’t fully relax, but she softens in my arms. Soon after, her eyes flutter closed.

I reach to shut off the lamp, but she clutches my hand and murmurs without opening her eyes. “Leave it on.”

Is she afraid of the dark? I want to ask her why, but her breathing has already evened out. I have no choice but to follow her.

I know this will be the best sleep I’ve had in ages.





Chapter Eleven





Zoe stares at me with vacant eyes. Her once-soft features are now gloomy. A line of blood trickles from the side of her head. Then another line follows. And another. Until her entire face is smudged in blood.

“Run, Elle!”

I gasp, startling awake. My back is drenched with sweat and my hands are shaking.

A nightmare. Just a nightmare.

Zoe is fine. She must be.

Even as I tell myself that, my lips quiver and tears threaten to spill. I hold them back and cast a quick glance at my grey surroundings. The clock reads a little after five in the morning.

Julian’s side of the bed is cold and empty. I frown because... I don’t freaking like it.

His scent is all over me from how he held me to sleep last night and the night before and the other before that.

For three nights, he’s been hugging me to sleep, and for three nights, I’ve slept like a baby but woke up to this abhorrent emptiness.

After he wrapped his arms around me the first time, I didn’t even fight him. What was the point, anyway? If Julian decides to do something, he will just do it. Besides, I needed to spy on him, so being close made perfect sense.

Or that’s what I told myself as I surrendered to his embrace.

Just the recollection of his hard chest against my back, his veiny arms around my waist, and his legs over mine, causes my thighs to throb.

For a strange reason, being close to him, to the point where his body heat overwhelmed mine sprung a sense safety. Which is stupid. I don’t need anyone to feel safe.

Julian is making me question that. He’s making me question many things I’ve taken for granted.

It doesn’t help that I’ve seen him in that inhumane state the other night.

The dead, glassy look grates at me. Lethal. Ruthless. Cold. Admittedly, Julian does have a portion of those traits, but they’re not all that he is. The real Julian focuses on me and knows who I am. The handcuffed man was anything but the Julian I’ve come to know.