Misted (Team Zero #5) by Rina Kent

I sit down on the floor and hide my head between my hands about to start a pity-party like a pathetic fool.

Only I’m not.

I wipe my face and spring to my feet.

He thinks he can keep me? He has another thing coming.





16





Hawk





I’m bent on destroying you, so why am I being wrecked in the process?



Fuck!

I jam my useless fist at the brick wall near the house’s back entrance. If it can’t shoot anymore, then what’s the fucking use of it?

My back leans against the wall and I inhale the deep, humid ocean scent. Waves crash into rocks below with violence that matches my feelings.

I wasn’t supposed to fuck Mist. I was supposed to unleash my hate on her. Put her in her place. Punish her for her betrayal that ruined me for fifteen fucking years. But then she was melting into me and I fucking lost it.

Even after taking her, I ended up more unsatisfied than before.

That image of her on the floor with my cum trickling down her mouth and between her thighs makes me fucking hard all over again.

I never thought about tarnishing her before. She was my sanctuary and the princess that I worshipped at her altar.

But that boy was a fucking idiot.

Mist looks perfect when she’s on the floor, marked, spanked and fucking mine.

The fact that she took my sick pleasure and uncontrollable need is what boggled me. She wanted it all, too. With the way her soft body bent under my hold, I knew she craved it. She craved me.

Mist said that she was done with me, but her body sings a different tune even before I touch her. I’ll use that fact to my full advantage to draw the answers out of her and stop her from hiding.

First, I need her off the poison Omega. Although the drug was plucked out of my system abruptly, it’s not the same as gradual detoxing. I spoke to all who have been detoxing; Flame, Shadow, Ghost, and Scar and they said they can control their urges better. Mist started detoxing with them, but she’s still shaking when on withdrawal like a class one druggie. Either she’s been taking a stronger dose or she’s been lying about detoxing altogether.

Well, good fucking luck with hiding it from me. Something tells me she’s relying on the temporary memory loss, but if she thinks that’ll save her from me, then she’s got another fucking thing coming.

I take out the pack of cigarettes, stuff one in my mouth, and fumble in my back pocket for the lighter.

As I puff the nicotine out of my nose, I can’t help going back to that time.



Past,

Mist’s head rests on my jean-clad thigh as she sleeps. Her red strands gathered in a ponytail splay all over my lap. She says this is the most comfortable position to be in.

I check my watch. We have one more hour before we have to go back to The Pit. I’ll let her sleep some more.

We had a kill in the local mafia business with the Irish. It was bloody, but it was done. Mist and I stumbled into this old, but somewhat clean motel room for a breather before the guards come searching for us.

Unless we don’t show up by the deadline, they won’t have to track us down.

Chatter and deep cockney accent drift from the streets below as the wind flaps the curtains inside.

Mist is always too exhausted after the Omega high weans down. When we arrived here, I barely sat on the old, metal bed when she leaned her head on my thigh and drifted off, her small hands wrapping around my midsection. It’s been an hour and a half but I didn’t move. I wouldn’t. I can watch her peaceful sleeping face for hours on end.

My fingers brush her red strands from her face and I trace those tiny freckles underneath her eyes. They’re starting to fade like stars in the vast galaxy the more she grows up.

Shame.

But at least her hair is still as fired up as when I first saw her. When not on Omega, she’s still fired up, too.

I lean down and plant a kiss on her forehead. She stirs then mumbles my name. I smile and continue watching her.

After a few minutes, her lids crack open. Those soft hazel eyes hardened by Omega stare up at me and she smiles. She fucking smiles as if seeing the most beautiful view.

With every look, Hellion stares at a soul I didn’t think I owned.

It’s my duty to protect that slowly-fading smile before it’s snatched away.

“Let’s leave,” I say.

She swallows and slowly sits up. “This isn’t funny. Don’t get my hopes high, Hawk.”

“Have I ever joked?”

She carefully shakes her head, suspicion still loud and clear on her face.

I clutch her by the shoulders so she’s facing me. “We’ll hit our fifty targets in a couple of months or weeks. The guards who follow us will be fewer and Hades thinks he controls us through Omega, so he believes we’ll always go back to our doses. We won’t.”

“We won’t?” She asks with an incredulous note.

I shake my head. “We’ll kill the guards following us and escape. It won’t be hard if they’re only a few.”

She gulps. “How… how about Omega?”

“That’s the hardest part.” I scratch my chin. “We can store from our daily dose, just half or so, but we can only do that when we’re outside, not inside The Pit where there are cameras. Then we’ll take the rest with us when we escape. We’ll run out of Omega at some point and Team Zero members died once the dose is taken, but I’m ready to gradually get off it. I’ll take that risk over spending the rest of our lives in this hell.”