Team Zero Series 1-3 Boxed Set

by Rina Kent

  It’s an infinite reality for us. Even the Rhodes who went back to their elite aristocratic lives can’t help but kill. For different reasons, but they still kill all the same.

  Ghost’s words slam back at me again. The promise of something else beyond the endless loop of killing.

  Could it be possible for someone like me?

  Since the image of me murdering Doctor Curly has never left my head since Eloise smiled up at him, I very much doubt that.

  8

  Eloise

  I smile up at Xavier, not believing what I just heard. “Really?”

  He sits beside me on the small table in the town’s most touristy coffee shop. It’s about five minutes’ walk from the hospital. When he asked to have our break here instead of at the hospital cafeteria, I reluctantly agreed. I want to test something, and Xavier is the perfect candidate. I never thought he had such news for me.

  “Absolutely.” He grins, his boyish charm on display. “After you asked me about doubling your shifts, I spoke to the director of the emergency room. The department already suffers from a lack of staff in the afternoon shift, so he’s more than willing to give you extra hours.”

  “Thank you!” I would hug him if I were a hugger. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  Papa’s house. That’s what it means. Add this to the rent I received from Crow, and I’ll be able to pay back the bank and keep the house.

  “My pleasure.” Xavier touches my arm, and I have to gulp down the reflex to pull away as he continues. “I’m just worried about your schedule. Afternoon and night shifts are bound to wear you down. You won’t get much time to sleep.”

  “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

  When Xavier keeps smiling in that boyish manner, but doesn’t remove his hand, the urge to jerk my arm free overwhelms me. But I don’t do it. I need to test what I came out here for.

  I have to prove all the craziness that happened with Crow was a mere manifestation of my hormones. It could happen with any man.

  I stare at Xavier, returning his smile. He’s nice. Unlike Crow’s rugged and dark features, Xavier is handsome with a clean look. He’s popular amongst the nurses for his suave manners. I would never, until the end of my days, forget how he stood by my side when Maman was suffering.

  But...

  Beside gratitude and respect, I feel nothing for him. The ignition point is completely absent. No spark. No confusion.

  I focus on his lips and imagine kissing them. The only picture that jumps to mind is full, alluring lips and thick arms surrounding me in a strong hold. His arms. His lips. His touch.

  Only Crow’s.

  I shake my head. These fantasies about the killer living under my roof need to go.

  Surely, with time, all this foolishness will go away and I’ll go back to the safe state I’ve existed in for so long.

  Definitely.

  I swiftly pull my arm from underneath Xavier’s fingers and take a sip of my espresso. I lift my head to gaze out of the window.

  Crow

  I choke, almost spitting the mouthful of coffee all over myself and Xavier. A foreign jolt flips both my chest and stomach.

  “La vache!” Xavier retrieves a napkin and wipes the droplets that have escaped my mouth. He’s saying something, but it doesn’t register.

  My entire attention is on the man straddling his bike across the street. Even from this distance, I can make out those broad shoulders covered by the black leather jacket.

  What is he doing in the town centre?

  Before I can analyse the situation, his bike weaves into the crowded street and disappears out of sight.

  I blink as if that could bring back his presence.

  The idiot. Doesn’t he know that he’s wanted? Not that the police have a concrete picture of him or that they know he’s a foreigner, but his massive physique stands out. Add a scary-looking bike, tattoos, and leather and he’s like a bulb spotlighting himself.

  A hot as hell bulb.

  It’s none of my business, dammit. He can be arrested for all I care.

  Absolutely.

  “Eloise?” Xavier is waving a hand in front of my face.

  “Hmm?” I focus on him, sure I must’ve missed most of what he’s been saying.

  “Ça va?” He glances between me and to where I’ve been staring. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Yes.

  Something is definitely wrong if I continue having these types of reactions around a dangerous stranger.

  I can’t allow him to toy with my safe zone.

  With time, I’m sure the confusion will dissipate and I’ll go back to being me.

  Definitely.

  Hopefully.

  In the early morning hours, right before dawn, I go home, exhausted and packed with groceries and beer. I need to sleep for at least one or two hours, and alcohol sometimes helps.

  The front door creaks as I push it with my foot, balancing the grocery bags in my hands.

  When I don’t hear Charlotte’s running feet or her ‘welcome home’ barks, dread looms over me. The bags become a lot heavier than a second ago.

  “Charlotte?” I call, my voice high pitched.

  Nothing.

  “Charlotte?” My lips tremble.

  A muffled whine fills the air like someone is hurting her.

  I drop the bags and run up the stairs, not feeling my legs or caring if I fall and break my damn neck.

  If something happens to her, I wouldn’t forgive myself.

  My eyes fill with tears at the thought of losing her.

  I’m done losing my loved ones. Not Charlotte, too. Please.

  My steps slow as I approach the master bathroom where the muffled sound is coming from.

  Pulses fill my ears as I push the ajar door open with sweaty hands.

  My jaw drops open.

  Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I’m seeing. Instead of the horror I imagined, Charlotte is being... bathed.

  Her tail wiggles back and forth in the tub as Crow pours water on her fur. He rinses the shampoo while rubbing her belly. Whenever he stops stroking her, she whines in that muffled sound that gave me a fright.

  Crow’s back is facing me, outlined by a plain black T-shirt. I can’t get over how broad and tall he is – even while crouching. And all that size of a man is washing a dog. My dog.

  I catch a glimpse of Crow’s furrowed brows, seeming to take the task way too seriously. I stifle a smile, unable to believe my eyes.

  Charlotte leaps out of the bathtub. A splash of water hits Crow’s face and the front of his T-shirt. I’m momentarily distracted by how the cloth sticks to his toned abdomen. I only rip my gaze when my dog jumps at me in all her wet glory.

  I crouch and catch her in my arms. The water drips on my shirt. I retrieve a towel from the side of the bathtub and dry her off.

  Crow points a finger at Charlotte. “I told you not to be a bitch and to stay put.”

  In response, she huffs and tucks herself in my arms.

  Crow narrows his eyes on her, and she stares back, unyielding.

  I burst out in laughter at their absurd exchange. What the hell is wrong with these two?

  And why am I... laughing? It’s been forever since I last laughed.

  “Glad this is all too funny for you.” Crow’s icy gaze falls on me as he tries to dry his wet T-shirt with a towel. Judging from his murderous expression, it isn’t working. Good. The view is too nice to be dried.

  Hell. Where did that come from?

  “Here I thought you only smile to Dr Curly.” The ice is still there. If anything, he’s glaring full on now.

  “Dr Curly?” I continue drying Charlotte, and she woofs softly in my arms. “Ah. You mean Xavier?”

  He huffs. “Of course he has a pussy name that fits his hair style.”

  I start to retort but stop. “Wait. You saw me last night?”

  “Yes, I saw you.” He’s still glaring. What is wrong with him?

 
“Why are you roaming in town? Aren’t you afraid the police will find you?”

  His expression softens a little and he appears taken aback. “Would you care?”

  “Why would I?” But even as I say that, something tugs inside me.

  “Good choice,” he says in a neutral voice that bothers me. Does he or doesn’t he want people to care about him?

  Charlotte barks at him. He narrows his intense blue eyes at her. “Don’t be ungrateful. I just went through all the trouble of bathing you.”

  I smile. “Who told you to bathe her?”

  “Let me see, perhaps it has to do with the dust that turned her fur white instead of grey.”

  I wince. It couldn’t be more than two weeks since I last bathed her, right?

  Since Maman’s death, time has blended together. I can’t be entirely sure of what I did or didn’t do.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, ruffling Charlotte’s hair back. I’ve been such a shitty owner to my dog.

  “I didn’t hear that.” I catch the smirk in Crow’s voice even without looking up.

  Connard.

  “I said thank you...” What starts like a shout drifts into a whisper as I lift my head and stare at him. He’s discarded the wet T-shirt, remaining in black trousers.

  I swallow, my hold faltering on both Charlotte and the towel. I don’t even notice when my dog jumps from my arms.

  The wound is still angry against his skin, but it doesn’t hide the hardened muscles. The tattoos shine under the morning light, casting a shadow on the little birds escaping from the biggest raven’s beak. My fingers itch to trace those tattoos and find out the meaning behind them. With all those scars marring his taut muscles, he appears like a warrior.

  A strong, massive warrior.

  He’s a bastard indeed, but a beautiful one at that.

  “Like what you see? I sure do.”

  His amused, wicked tone rips me back to reality.

  I almost slap myself. Ogling?

  Real classy, Eloise.

  When I finally meet his gaze, it isn’t focused on mine. I follow his field of vision, and heat smothers my face. The front of my white shirt is soaking wet, outlining my bra and half-naked breasts.

  I jerk to my feet, covering myself with Charlotte’s towel. If my cheeks could explode, they probably would right now. “Pervert!”

  He raises an eyebrow, not even trying to hide what he’s been doing. “So you’re allowed to look, but I’m not? What type of double standard is that?”

  “That’s not what I’ve been doing. I was... was...” Shut up! Shut up! You’ll make it worse. “I was checking on the wound!”

  Ugh. Why couldn’t I just shut the hell up?

  He advances towards me, and it takes all my willpower to keep my ground and not step back. “How about you check it up close then?”

  He’s towering over me now, invading my space, and if I don’t get myself together, I’ll be reduced to that wobbly mess from the other day.

  I focus on the ground. “The wound looks fine.”

  “You’re not even looking at it.”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “Are you sure?” He advances more until my towel-covered chest grazes his. Leather and his distinctive scent envelop me in a halo. My heart pounds. I feel myself cracking, wanting to get close.

  Needing to get close.

  This man, this stranger, this killer, is crossing limits that should remain intact. This isn’t right.

  Never should be.

  My palms plant on his chest, and I push him back with all my might. He barely budges. “Just leave me alone. Why can’t you do that?”

  “Is that what you really want, Eloise?” His voice drops an octave, chilling me to the bone.

  I meet his eyes, and it’s such a horrible idea. The iciness of his gaze traps me in an intimate hold. And like a freaking idiot, I stutter. “Y-yes.”

  “Think again. The other time you wanted me to kill you and now, you want me to leave you alone? Do you think you can toy with death without paying the price?”

  “Then kill me!” An angry energy pushes through my veins. He’s not the only one who’s able to push. I can push back as well. “What other price do I have to pay?”

  He traps my chin between his fingers until my air is filled with him. His eyes darken and the lines of his face contort into that inhuman version I witnessed when he almost killed me. The killer version.

  I have no doubt that this man can end a life as easily as he takes his next breath.

  And yet, I’m not scared. If anything, I’m curious. Intrigued. Amazed.

  I want to know everything about him, but I also feel the need to push him away. All at once. He’s dangerous to the fortress I’ve been building since Maman’s death, but he’s also an excitement I’m yearning to experience. Even if for only a short while.

  “You don’t want to die,” Crow says in a low tone. “You think you do, but all you want is to stop the emotions from bubbling to the surface. Sooner or later, those bottled up feelings have to be released or they will suffocate you from the inside. It’s better to attack them before they attack you.”

  Anger hits me like a train crash. I try to wiggle free, but his fingers dig into my skin, bruising, steel-like. That doesn’t stop me from shouting. “Keep the psychoanalysing to yourself! What the hell do you know about me to judge me?”

  He pushes me. I stumble and my back hits the wall with a thud. “Been there. Done that. Bought the fucking T-shirt, Nurse Betty. If you think that numbing your emotions will keep you safe, then fucking think again. You’re only fooling yourself, and deep down, you know it.”

  “Let me go.” I claw at his forearm. I need to find refuge away from him and whatever the hell he’s saying. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be trapped in that endless grief.

  All I have to do is run to my room, lock the door, hide under the covers, and wallow in my numbness.

  Crow’s not having it. He keeps me firmly caged between his chest and the wall. His fingers continue to hold my face hostage. “Not until you admit it.”

  “Fine. You’re right. Just let me go,” I say everything he wants to hear so he’ll leave me alone. I can feel that surge of emotions rushing, shooting and climbing to the surface. I need to be alone and stay the hell away from this man.

  “Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That you’re not fine like you pretend to be.”

  I swallow the chaos running rampant in my chest. “I’m fine.”

  His grip on my chin tightens as he shakes his head. “Try again, Nurse Betty.”

  “Let me go!” I wiggle against him, hitting his chest. I’d do anything so he’ll just release me. I’m trapped, lost, and confused.

  I’m not supposed to have any of these emotions. I’m supposed to feel numb.

  Numbness is safe.

  Crow grabs both my wrists in his free hand and yanks them above my head against the wall. He leans close, his breaths fanning my face. “We can stand here all fucking day if you like.”

  “Please...” I resort to pleading. The unwelcome sensation is nearing the surface. I can’t let all that chaos out.

  “Please what?”

  “Please stop provoking me.” I meet his eyes, trying to find a shard of mercy in him. “Leave me in peace.”

  He glares, the blue of his gaze freezing. “Admit. It.”

  “I’m not fine,” I whisper just so he’ll give up already. Instead of the indifference I was used to, something cracks inside me. The sound is so crashing, I close my eyes at the intensity of it.

  “Louder,” he orders.

  “I’m not fine.”

  “Louder!”

  “I’m not fine!” A sob tears from my throat. “I’m not fine. I’m not.”

  Images of Maman before her death fill my vision. She was a shell, but I’d rather have that shell than be alone. Dad disappeared on us. Papa died, and all I had was Maman. She was the anchor of my existence. W
hen she left, the loneliness almost tore me apart.

  I spent weeks roaming the house like a ghost, being swallowed in the laughs we had together. Every day, I hoped all this was a dream and I’d wake up to find her, Dad, Papa, and everything that made me happy.

  There’s no sense of life after her. Only deep loneliness. I can’t figure out how to live without her, Dad, and Papa. I can’t figure out why I’m still existing after they’re all gone.

  But I deluded myself into thinking I was fine, so none of those feelings would return. Numbness was a lot better than grief.

  And now, because of this man, I can’t even lie to myself anymore.

  I stare into the turquoise blue eyes that are breaking me and putting me back together again. Crow’s expression softens as he releases my chin and wrists.

  “What do you want, Eloise?” He runs a finger down my cheek, wiping a tear, and waking every dead patch of skin in his wake. “What do you really want?”

  This man. This stranger. This killer. He’s both excitement and danger. Adrenaline and confusion. He’s everything I shouldn’t want, but at the same time, he’s all I crave. All that breathes life into me.

  For once, just for a short while, I don’t want to feel numb or dead.

  I clutch his arm, using the deep blue of his eyes as an anchor. “I want to feel alive.”

  9

  Crow

  I want to feel alive.

  Just hearing those words coming out of her mouth makes blood pump in my veins.

  Eloise is staring at me with those huge eyes, bright green and filled with confusion and a tinge of fear. Her lips quiver and a tremor passes through her tiny hand that’s clutching my arm.

  It’s like she really doesn’t know how to do this. How to be alive.

  There’s nothing more I want to do than yank off those trousers, take her against the wall, and show her exactly how to be alive.

  But not when she’s confused out of her mind. If I push her too far, she might break and never put herself back together again.

  And I want her to put herself together. No idea why the fuck would I care, but Eloise has been unexplainable ever since I met her. All I know is that I’ll take her hand in this. Whatever the fuck this is. Because I’ve seen snippets of the woman lurking underneath the numbness.