Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

“What happened?” I ask in a calm tone, trying to smooth the conversation.



“Exhaustion. You didn’t eat for days.”



“Oh.” I bite my lower lip at the apathetic way he speaks. That’s not how Julian addresses me. But I’ve hurt him, and I would do anything to correct my mistake.



I can’t even fight it anymore. I’ve reached a point where I can’t imagine my life without him.



“Kyle?” I use the careful tone again, attempting to have him open up to me. Like before. When no boundaries stood between us.



“Recovering. He’ll be taken care of.”



“I’m so sorry about that, Julian.” I shift. Unable to keep my hands to myself anymore, I reach out for the sleeve of his shirt.



Julian yanks his arm free. The deep hurt in his brown eyes – devoid of any golden rings – cuts through me. I’ve never seen him so bleak. So hurt.



“Don’t you have your own betrayal to worry about?”



My arm drops to my side like a wounded animal. He really does hate me. I don’t know how to make him forgive me. Listen to me. Even if only for a minute.



“Well, you also hid that you are Ghost.” Not that they’re the same, but he lied to me as well.



“That’s because I hated what was associated with being Ghost.” He’s breathing harshly. The cloth of his shirt strains against his stiff shoulder muscles. “I didn’t hide it to stab you in the fucking back.”



Tears sting my eyes. “Julian –”



“Don’t call me that,” he hisses.



I flatten my lips in a line to not break into tears. He’s slipping from my fingers, and I have no idea how to make it right. I can see it in his eyes, the regret, the betrayal, the deep-seated rage. I can almost hear his demons shouting, ‘I told you that you shouldn’t trust her’. I can feel him writing me off and it’s tearing me apart.



“I read about a special species of female fireflies,” he says in a detached tone. “They shine brightly. So brightly. When an enchanted male approaches them, do you know what they do?”



I shake my head and a tear falls down my cheek. I don’t want to know the answer. From the hurt on Julian’s face, it won’t be a good one.



“They chew them up. Just like you did, Emmanuelle.”



It’s not even Elle anymore. It’s my full name. The depersonalisation cuts through my heart and bleeds it open.



“I didn’t mean to.” My voice is shaky no matter how much I try to steady it. “I only – ”



“Shut up. I don’t even want to hear your voice. Every word you say is a fucking lie.”



“No. I only wanted to find Zoe. Nothing more.”



“Exactly.” A muscle works in his jaw. “Everything else has been a lie.”



“No...” Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, and I don’t even try to stop them.



“Answer my question. Was it fun?” His eyes heat with raging fire. “Was using me, fun?”



“N-No.” I can’t even form words.



“How would it feel if I used you?” He’s at my face in a second. His fingers wrap around my neck. My skin heats. At least he’s touching me. That distance was killing me.



“What did I tell you about betraying me? I should fucking kill you.”



My lips tremble because he isn’t squeezing. He can’t. He looks torn and confused like I was when I couldn’t pull the trigger.



“I should’ve never trusted you.”



More tears fall down my cheeks.



“I should hurt you as much as you fucking hurt me.”



If this is how he needs to get all the anger and hurt out of his system, then I don’t mind. I just need him close. I angle my head and capture his lips with mine. He’s stunned at first, then his lips claim mine. His hand grips my nape harshly and he pries my mouth open. Our tongues clash together in a violent pull. His raw power hits me in the core.



He kisses me with a ferocity that unravels me. Shots of electric pleasure course through me. Then, as if remembering he’s not supposed to kiss me, Julian bites my lower lip. Hard. A metallic taste explodes in my mouth as he pushes away.



I whimper as I’m separated from his lips. My body grieves the loss.



Julian wipes the blood from his lips with his thumb and looms over me like a storm about to erupt, but at the same time, confusion contorts his features.



He’s panting, shoulders straining. I’m sure he can’t deny the pull between us, but he also can’t see past the hurt and anger.



“Was that a lie, too?” he growls. “Just like you held my hand and told me you’re mine? Just like you slept in my arms? Was everything a fucking lie, Emmanuelle?”



“Stop calling me that! Stop!” I spring to my feet, anger getting the best of me. “Stop telling me that the best days of my life are a fucking lie! They aren’t!”