Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

My eyes fill with tears, but I wipe them away.

I could cry all day, but that won’t bring her back. I throw the covers off. I won’t let Zoe’s death be in vain. I’ll mourn her later after I find out why she was killed and who did it.

I change into shorts and a T-shirt. I’m halfway to the bathroom when a breeze comes through the window. Shadow. He’s crouching on the window pane, wearing the same dark jeans and white T-shirt from yesterday. His hair is dishevelled and dark circles outline the metal grey of his eyes.

He’s about to knock. Seriously, what’s the point if he’s already there?

“Don’t you ever use the door?”

“Sometimes. Not today.” There’s no hint of his usual playfulness. Instead, a gloomy aura is strapped tightly around his features.

“So?” I approach until I’m standing in front of him. “What are we going to do?”

The grey of his eyes darkens as he narrows them. “There’s no ‘we’.”

“What do you mean there’s no ‘we’? I need to know the truth.”

“And you will. Just stay put.” A fleeting pain passes through his closed-off features. “Zoe wouldn’t have wanted you involved in this.”

“Well, Zoe is dead!” The shout shocks him as much as it shocks me. It seems that Shadow hasn’t been processing her death just like me.

His jaw tightens and his handsome face morphs into something eerily dark. Dangerously menacing. A killer. Just like Julian.

“Let me help,” I coax, using the calmest tone I can manage. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“There’s nothing to help with. I analysed the video and found out who was on the roof with her.”

My breaths turn shallow. “Who is it?”

Shadow shakes his head. “I’ll finish him myself.”

“Just tell me who is it? Did Mist send him? Is he that shady man who I thought was Ghost?”

Silence stretches between us. My fists clench, and it takes everything in me not to shake Shadow.

After what seems like a year of measuring me up, he says, “You won’t get in my way?”

I nod. “Absolutely not!”

“You can watch if you want,” Shadow says. “Tonight. I will finish him in the same place he finished her.”

And then, he climbs down the window.

Energy pumps in my veins. My feet find themselves striding to Julian’s safe. He doesn’t think I notice, or he probably does and lowered his guard around me, but I caught the combination to the safe. I enter the pin, and the safe clicks open. There are only guns and knives inside. I pick a similar handgun to the one we practised with and caress the trigger.

I hope Julian will forgive me. Not only for stealing his gun, but also for hiding the truth. I will tell him once I take care of Zoe’s killer.

I won’t only watch as Shadow told me. I will shoot the bastard who took my family away in the damn forehead.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





President Joe and I meet in an abandoned warehouse at the south-east end. Grey walls and granite floors surround us. It’s secure enough that I’m sure no one would eavesdrop. I picked up President Joe myself, so he didn’t know where we’re meeting ahead of time.

I stand across from him in a straight posture. Pain is pulsing from my wound even though I took as many painkillers as possible.

President Joe is in one of his usual double-breasted striped suits, complete with the red bowtie.

He’s weaponless, too. I made sure of that. Not that he usually carries weapons.

“Some might think you brought me here to kill me.” His tone remains neutral which means he’s sure I won’t. “You know I have nothing to do with the attacks, right?”

“Yes. However, someone from your side and another from mine are trying to stir a war.”

His fingers glide over his bowtie. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m still not sure about the identity of my traitor.” I retrieve my phone and tap a few things. “I am, however, sure of who met with my traitor.” I show him the security feed of the camera I recently installed in the warehouse area. “See for yourself.”

Someone opens the warehouse’s door. It’s a storage situated on the outskirts of Le Salon. The person inside is hidden from the camera’s range. Only a hand appears, but it’s gloved and gives nothing away. Not even gender. However, the rat who walks to the door is as clear as the sun.

“Fucking Johnny.” President Joe spits and loosens his bowtie. “He will be taken care of. You have my word.”

“If I find him, I will take care of him myself. Do I have your permission?”

I don’t need to ask for permission to slaughter the rat, but it’s an offering of mutual respect to President Joe.

He clicks his tongue as if disgusted then motions away. “I have no place for traitors in my turf.”

“Not even if he’s you’re right hand?”

“Not even if it’s my own family.” His eyes fill with harshness as if he’s seeing demons. Maybe he did disown his own daughter as the rumours have it.

“Brilliant. Now that we have that under wraps,” I pause at the burn in my wound. Omega’s pain-suppressing effects would be nice now. “Here’s the deal. If you pay me double a month’s earnings, you will be granted twenty-five per cent of the factory’s shares.”