Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

We reach the house she’s given me the address for. It’s old and chipped. The gate is rusty. This is where she followed Shadow the other day.

As soon as I stop the car, Elle hops outside and is already marching to the seemingly-abandoned house.

She crosses the street, ignoring the car honks and pissed off drivers.

I curse and follow suit as she produces a key from her shorts’ pocket and opens the gate. The metal cringes in protest.

When I go inside, my gaze roams around the old-style house in the distance. There is a murky green lake in front.

Elle is fussing with an old boat’s rope. I hop in with her and help in navigating towards the small house in the middle of the lake. At least that’s where I assume she’s heading since she keeps staring at it with deep longing.

I barely reach the deck and Elle jumps off the boat and storms inside the house.

It’s the wrong thing to consider while she’s obviously perturbed, but there better not be a man inside.

I’ll kill him with my bare fucking hands.

There’s no one in the lake house. It’s built in a circular, dome shape with old stone walls and decorated with a few oriental cushions.

Elle’s gaze darts around as if she’s seeing the place for the first time but also as if she’s lived here her entire life.

“She always loved this. She used to say that one day, we will make it ours.” Her lips tremble, but she thins them in a line. “Then she left.”

Who is she talking about? Her mother? But she was dead for years.

It pains me to see her so lost and hurt like this.

“Firefly.” I reach out for her, but she darts out of reach.

“Don’t.” She purses her lips and widens her stance. “I’m strong. I can do this.”

“You don’t have to. Let me help. Let me take the burden, too.”

She faces me, her expression on the verge of breaking down.

And then she does.

Elle wraps her arms around me and breaks into loud sobs.





Chapter Twenty-Five





I cry until no more tears come out. Until I’m drawing involuntary breaths and trembling all over.

I don’t remember the last time I cried like this. Crying is for bitches, as Ma used to say. It’s for weaklings. I’m not a weakling. I’m strong. But now, as Julian holds me, strokes my hair and rubs my back, those deeply-seated lies wither away. I can’t pretend to always be strong.

I’m tired. I’m so fucking exhausted from standing alone and being tough the entire time. Julian has reached inside and shaken that pretence out of me.

He didn’t even say a word as I cried my eyes out. He just sat me down on a cushion. Or more like, he sat down and curled me in his lap. My arms wrap around his waist while his strong ones surround my back as if keeping me from breaking apart.

Perhaps I did.

Or I will.

Zoe has been life for me. Her liveliness and brightness kept me from drifting to God knows where. If I didn’t have her, I would’ve probably died in one of the rings or messed with the wrong people and got myself killed. She always tamed my anger and the need to vent at anyone and anything.

She was my anchor, and I swore to be her pillar, too.

But now, she’s gone and I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t be there for her.

I can’t even give her a funeral worthy of her. She was born as a nobody and now has died as a nobody. Liam and I are the only ones who will remember her. And maybe Shadow.

I didn’t think I had any crying left, but fresh tears blur my vision. And then, I’m sobbing again.

“Hey...” Julian murmurs in a soothing tone and strokes my hair. “What is it, Firefly? Let me help.”

“There isn’t a body.” I cry, my face is all snot and tears, and I most likely smeared them on Julian’s jacket. “I don’t have a body to bury.”

“A body?” His voice is soft and careful. He’s being patient, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

My lips twitch to spill my guts about Zoe and everything in between. She was killed by one of his own, anyway. Not Shadow, because he looked murderous when we watched that video, and he left with that robotic expression that I’m sure means he will kill. But it could be someone sent by Mist. Or that one I thought was Ghost.

Julian can help me. Julian obviously cares or he wouldn’t have let me cry in his chest for what seems like an hour. And by crying, I mean ugly sobbing that no other human would want to witness.

I stare up at him, and he’s watching me expectantly. Pain swirls through those dark, enchanting eyes as if it hurts him to see me this way. The affection and care on his face strangles my stupid, infatuated heart.

There’s no way I can lose that.

If I tell Julian about Zoe, he will link things together and know that I’ve been here undercover. He’ll think I only approached him to use him. He’ll throw me away.

My breathing turns shallow at the thought. I can’t lose Julian, too. If he leaves or throws me away as Mist said, what will become of me? After Zoe and Julian, what the hell will I be?

“Firefly?” he asks in that inquisitive, smooth tone that gets me on my toes ever since the first time we met.

“Promise you won’t leave me, Julian.” My voice is so vulnerable and weak, I want to punch myself. But at the same time, I need Julian to remain by my side. These overflowing feelings would suffocate me if he discards me.