Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

Emmanuelle, the underground fighter, the woman who lived on bitterness and anger, doesn’t do this. But Emmanuelle was so painfully alone. I don’t even want to think about her anymore.

I’m yours, Firefly.

I squeal and hug Julian’s pillow to my chest like a teenager or some shit. Which is stupid, because I’ve never been a teenager. I jumped straight to adulthood.

But recalling Julian’s words in that cool, slightly husky tone makes me want to fly out of my skin.

I sit up, ready to jump him wherever he is. My eyes zero in on a tray on the side of the bed.

My mouth hangs open. Did Julian bring me breakfast in bed?

It’s nothing fancily decorated. Mostly protein, eggs, toast, and marmite. But it’s breakfast all the same. I pinch my cheeks. Nope. Not a dream. The breakfast is still there.

Have I somehow landed on the most amazing mobster on earth or what?

I notice a note folded beside the toast.

‘Eat well and put your boxing gear on. I owe you a match.’

I grin like an idiot and devour the breakfast in record time. It means a lot that Julian is doing this for me. He’s been the busiest person since the whole President Joe business, but he’s making time for me. He promised me a match and I’m beginning to learn that Julian always keeps his promises.

My phone vibrates. My stomach sinks.

Liam.

I gulp the last of the marmite on toast. I’ve been avoiding him the last couple of days, and even shut off my phone so Julian wouldn’t find anything. But if I continue ignoring Liam’s calls, he’ll think I’m in danger and might storm here.

In fact, after what happened with Zoe, Liam would most definitely risk his career and barge in here without a warrant.

That’s the last thing I want.

But at the same time, I can’t help Liam anymore. Just the thought of disappointing Julian causes my skin to crawl. No idea how or when I became this loyal to Julian, but I can’t keep supplying Liam with information behind Julian’s back.

Besides, there’s no way I’ll allow Liam to risk his career or his life for me.

There needs to be middle ground for everyone.

I make sure the window and the door are closed before I answer the call.

“Where the bloody hell have you been, you little bugger?” Liam pauses. “You’re fine, right?”

“Don’t worry. I’m totally cool. It’s just...”

“Just what?” His tone hardens.

I bite my lower lip. Here we go. Now or never. “I can’t get in touch anymore.”

“Why the bloody hell not?”

Because I’m being a shitty naïve fool who’s trusting a gangster with her life. The hottest gangster.

“It’s a bit tense here lately.” I mention no details.

“We know about Kyle being shot, even if they’re keeping it under wraps.”

Does that mean he hasn’t heard about yesterday’s shootings? Doesn’t matter. I won’t say a word.

You’re not going to betray me, Firefly?

Julian’s words play in the back of my head on a loop. I meant it when I said I won’t. Not anymore.

Liam’s voice filters in a warning. “If you’re in danger –”

“I’m not.” I cut him off. “It’s just that the control room is buzzing with guards. Once it cools down, I will get the footage. Until then, don’t contact me. It’s safer that way.”

Both for him, Julian, and me. If Mist or the others find out Liam knows more than he should, they would kill him in a blink. I’m not ready to lose another family member.

“Bollocks.” I can almost see him kicking something. “What the hell was I thinking to send you there?”

“It’s for Zoe. Let me do this, Liam.”

He releases a long breath then says, “You will contact me if anything happens?”

“I promise.”

Depends on how he defines ‘if anything happens’. When I hang up, I close my eyes in a silent goodbye.

Whether it’s to Liam or to my old life, I have no idea.





Giddiness and excitement whirl through me as I make my way to the back garden. I’m dressed in shorts and a tank top I’ve borrowed from Scar.

She made me wear a top on which is written, ‘Don’t Fucking Touch Me, Peasant.’ When I wanted to change into something else, she locked the wardrobe with a key and went back to meditating. She’s been doing that a lot lately. No more blasting Oasis’ music all day long.

Sometimes, Scar is too weird for words. Okay, most of the time.

Since she’s slimmer than me, the clothes are a size too tight. This isn’t what I’m used to wearing while boxing, but I don’t have my tracksuits with me and Julian ripped the only hoodie and sweat trousers I have.

Not that I’m complaining.

When I round the corner, I freeze.

Julian is punching Shadow with a ferocity that knots my insides. I don’t like Shadow that much, but it’s as if Julian has a personal grudge against his friend. The recent wound on his arm doesn’t even faze him.

Blood explodes from Shadow’s lips. He has his arms up to block Julian’s successive mixture of uppercuts, right crosses, and hooks.

It doesn’t work.

Julian is on a momentum. A dark as hell momentum. His eyes are almost black and completely devoid of life. There are no golden rings. No sign of the Julian who hugs me to sleep.