Misted (Team Zero #5) by Rina Kent

I ask the shop girl for her phone so I can search for mine. She doesn’t hesitate to give it. Since I left Hawk at the cashier, I sneak from the dressing room, carrying an H&M bag to hide my face with.

Once I’m outside, I dial Molly. She picks up after two rings.

“International French number. Mist?”

“Yeah.” My gaze watches my surroundings. It won’t be long before Hawk notices I’m missing. “Is everything okay around there?”

Molly goes on to tell me that Hawk killed Poison’s disciple that attempted to assassinate me and that he might or might not be the reason behind Croft’s change of tactic regarding Le Salon.

My head is in a mush when Molly finishes talking, but I don’t have the time to ask for further details.

“Jessica and Sarah?” I ask.

“They’re fine.” Molly huffs. “Just tell me where are you exactly so I’ll come get you.”

“That’s not important right now, Molls. I need Ink out and you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

“I’m your man or woman or whatever.”

Through the shop’s window, I spot Hawk talking to the girl who gave me her phone.

“Shit. I’ve got to go, Molly.”

I hang up before she says anything. I jog back to the shop when something harsh stabs into my side.

A shadow sprints ahead with the bag. I hold my side and fall to the pavement on my knees.

Hawk’s growling face is the last thing I see before everything turns into a fog.





22





Hawk





No one fucks with what’s mine but me.



Everything in me screams to find the scum and twist his heart and break his head.

However, the woman lying on the pavement with a pained expression written all over her face halts me in my tracks.

I pull Mist up by the shoulder, baring my teeth in a snarl. “What the fuck were you thinking? I told you you’re stuffed with a tracker. You can’t run away from me, dammit!”

“I wasn’t running.” She motions at the phone on the pavement and clutches her side. “Ugh…”

My teeth grind as if her pain is fucking mine. I pull her up and throw her over my shoulder. She yelps, but I’m already running in the direction of the arsehole.

“Hawk, what are you doing?” She draws in a gasp.

I tighten my hand around the back of her naked thighs, ignoring the looks and yelps from the onlookers.

“Stop it,” she hisses, hitting my back.

“Stay still,” I growl and spank her arse.

She breathes a shaky breath against my back before she clutches my T-shirt with both hands.

“You’re a mule,” she huffs, amusement lacing her tone.

“And you’re freaking stubborn. What would’ve happened in he had a knife, huh?”

“I would’ve stopped him.”

“As if that would be possible with all the withdrawal.”

“And whose fault is that?” Her head bumps against my back as I sprint through the narrow streets until I spot the slim thug who punched Mist.

I lower her to her feet near an old house’s steps and bore my eyes into her tired hazel ones. “Don’t move.”

She flops down, blowing a breath. “I’m a druggie on withdrawal. Obviously, I can’t move. Thanks for nothing.”

I narrow my eyes on her sass but decide to drop it for now. I take a shortcut to the left, continuing to spot the wanker’s silhouette. He slowed his pace, obviously thinking that he got away.

He stops near an alley with cats fighting and hissing at each other.

Once the man opens the bag and realises it’s empty, he curses in a long stream of French before he throws it away, causing the cats to disperse. He runs a hand through his greasy blond hair that falls to his nape.

He retrieves a cigarette, puts it between his thumb and forefinger and lights it.

That’s when I charge towards him. He doesn’t see it coming. He can’t.

One moment he’s on the ground and the next I’m holding him by the neck against the brick wall. His face reddens as my arm chokes the breath out of him.

I’m going to squeeze him to death so slowly, he’ll beg to be put out of his misery.

He croaks and wheezes, his suspended legs thrashing everywhere.

A soft hand covers my free one. I’m too lost in my killing daze that I almost rear back and hit her.

She stares up at me with determined hazel eyes, the green and brown softening. “He’s just a thief, Hawk. Let him go.”

“He touched you.” I shove my arm into his throat until his face turns blue. “He dared fucking hit you.”

“That doesn’t warrant death.”

“It does to me,” I growl.

“Hawk.” She wraps her arms around my waist, tiptoes and seals a kiss to my cheek.

Something freezes at the moment her lips linger to my skin like a soft caress. My hold falters on the scum and he falls to the ground, coughing like a lung cancer patient.

He crawls away and I go to grab him. Mist steps between us and holds my cheeks in her hands.

“Just a thief.” She enunciates as if I need to hear every word separately.

It’s not her words that douse water on the raging storm, it’s her touch. The way she firmly holds my cheeks. The way she kissed me as if we were still teens. The way her body leans into me as if she needs my closeness as much as I do hers.