Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

“N-no, please,” she murmurs and then I make out the pink and green strands.

Hayley. Shit.

“Come on,” he coaxes.

“Don’t you understand what no means?” My voice is loud and even.

The man turns around so fast, a murderous shadow on his face. A faded scar runs from the middle of his forehead to underneath his left eye. Even without glaring, he appears monstrous. “Move along, bitch.”

He’s tall. Probably more than ten inches on me. It won’t be easy to strike a vital part unless he leaves an opening. I tiptoe to get a better view of Hayley and make sure she’s all right. She should be in school. I knew those thugs she hangs out with would get her in trouble.

Her lips part when she meets my gaze. Her frantic eyes stare between me and the man, then she hangs her head. I have to take care of him first, then we’re having a word.

The man comes at me, I punch him in the cheek. My bare fist burns.

He howls, clutching his face. “You fucking bitch!”

I slam my hook in his side, but before I can keep up the momentum, the bloke reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a knife. He wiggles it in my face while smirking. “Ye think ye’re a tough whore, eh?”

My muscles lock and my spine turns rigid. A fistfight is one thing, knives are entirely another. Yet, I’m not the type to back away from any fight. So, when he advances towards me, I remain rooted in place. The best technique of attack is to wait patiently until the opponent gives an opening.

That was my weakness when I first started fighting. I always wanted to take the offence first. Liam purged it out of me. Or tried to, anyway.

This thug is simple. He aims his knife straight at my face. I duck to one side and use our height difference to kick him in the crotch. Instead of connecting with his flesh, he catches my striking leg and yanks me towards him with brute force. I lose balance and fall on my back. The impact reverberates through my bones.

That hurts!

I catch Hayley’s tears as she crouches against the wall. What is she still doing here? She should run.

The man hangs over me, an evil grin on his face as he points the blade at me. “You should’ve minded yer own business, babe. Don’t ye know who I am? Ye dare messin’ with the Great Johnny?” He brings the knife closer to my face. “How about I screw up that pretty little face of yours to teach ya a lesson?”

Heavy breaths leave my lungs as I stare at the knife’s edge. If I’m going to live in the world of monsters, I need to get used to this. It’ll be everyday life from now on.

I bend my knees, ready to nut him when a tattooed hand clutches the man’s wrist. The newcomer’s deep brown eyes connect with mine. I’m momentarily transfixed by the golden ring surrounding them. That’s such a rare colour. What’s rarer is the mixed feelings they give. Calmness and danger. Wise and reckless.

“Now,” the tattooed newcomer says in a low, deep voice, then twists Johnny’s wrist. The knife clatters on the ground. “Don’t go wielding these toys carelessly.”

Johnny’s face contorts in pain as the tattooed man keeps a firm hold on his wrist. I use the chance to kick Johnny in the crotch. He staggers and falls backwards, writhing in pain.

The newcomer lets go of Johnny and offers me his hand. He’s dressed in a pressed black suit and a white shirt. No tie. Now that I get a closer look at him, he’s a lot more striking than his piercing eyes or the tattoos peeking from underneath the cuffs of his shirt. His dark hair is short on the sides but long enough in the middle to be slicked back. The straight jawline and the masculine, defined features give him a sharp vibe. It’s so rare to see a groomed man with such intricate tattoos. They swirl around his wrists and extend to the back of his hands.

Uneasiness whirls through me.

Good-looking men always make me nervous. I haven’t quite learnt how to deal with them, so I treat them like a kindergarten kid would treat his crush.

I ignore his hand and jump up to a standing position. Hoping my embarrassment doesn’t show, I lower my head and dust the dirt off my jeans and hoodie.

The stranger retrieves his hand and walks over to Hayley. Although still shaking, she takes his palm and stands on unsteady feet.

I run towards her and snatch her to my side — stronger than intended. I give the stranger a ‘back off’ glare and whisper to Hayley, “Let’s go.”

She’s still quivering, so I rub her arm awkwardly. If only I was efficient at the comforting thing. Zoe is a lot better than me. I’ll have to take Hayley back to her parents before going to my appointment with Mist.

I hasten my way out of the alley and back to the restaurant. A part of me itches to glance behind. One more look at the tattooed stranger. At the mysterious intensity in his eyes. Yet, I shoo the thought away.

I have no time to get up caught with strikingly handsome strangers.

“Hey, Firefly.” The deep rumble of his voice rings behind me. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I won’t thank you,” I say, still walking away from him. “I could’ve handled that wanker on my own.”

“Wait.”

I don’t.

Still, I catch a glimpse of his tilted head in my peripheral vision. Like he’s working out a puzzle. Then, his lips twitch in a smile. Or what resembles a smile. It’s so striking that my lips part.