by Rina Kent
* * *
Dark. Dangerous. Deadly.
Those facts should’ve kept me away from this underground world where people disappear and never return.
They didn’t.
His mistake: Taking Zoe, someone I consider a sister. I will stop at nothing to get her back. Even if it means infiltrating a notorious organised crime ring in search of the faceless ghost who plucked her away.
My mistake: Not expecting him. Julian—the guard surrounded by a shroud of darkness and mystery. I'm helplessly and dangerously drawn to the man within.
The more I get lost in him, the riskier my mission becomes.
What if Julian is more than a mere guard?
What if he’s related to this man called Ghost?
1
Elle
Forget who you are.
I mull the words over and over as I stare through my window at the three kids crouching on the front steps of my house.
My soon-to-be ex-house.
Their smudged clothes and untidy hair don’t overshadow their hushed laughter and exchanged winks.
Probably plotting how to prank me once I step out of the door.
Little tossers.
My heart tugs at the thought of never seeing them again. Not those tiny hands. Not those innocent eyes. Not even their distasteful pranks.
I breathe through my mouth and nose. No crying. Ever. My prostitute mother didn’t give me much, but she sure as hell taught me that only weaklings cry.
“No daughter of mine is a weak bitch, got that, Emmanuelle?”
I hated my French name. I hated that she didn’t call me Elle like everyone else. Her real name was Sophie but she went with Electra for work and decided Emmanuelle was a suitable name for her daughter.
What I hated the most was that she left me alone at the age of six in the streets.
Eighteen years later, I still take the no-crying rule seriously.
Time to step on my heart and do this.
My fingers latch around my bracelet. The only feminine thing I wear. It’s a dainty silver chain with a firefly motif. Two yellow jewels serve as its wings.
My first present from Zoe and a token of our friendship.
I throw one last glance at the empty hellhole with vintage cupboards I almost managed to call home.
Almost.
Until the only person that made it a home vanished. Leaving me alone. Not hungry or young or in the streets, but still so miserably alone.
I won’t be missing this place; the loud landlady, the slums of eastern London, or the mouldy ceiling. I’ll only miss the memories, the laughter, the fighting, the adrenaline, and the children plotting my fall outside.
Here’s to giving the little adorable things one last laugh.
“Killer!” I call. A black fluffy ball of fur runs towards me from the adjacent room – Zoe’s room. He’s rarely left his owner’s bed since she disappeared. The loyalty in this tiny thing matches Zoe’s.
He yaps and runs between my legs in maddening circles, his little teeth grazing at my jeans.
I pick him up and hold him to eye level, lips pulling in a saddened smile. “I’m sorry I have to leave you as well.”
Killer whines, pants, and tries to lick my face.
I cuddle him to my chest. I hate hugging, but Zoe forced them on me. She said I needed them even if I didn’t know it and would thank her later.
There’s no later.
I will let her hug me as much as she likes once she returns. In the meantime, I squeeze her dog. “I’ll bring her back. That’s a promise, Killer.”
Still carrying him in my arms, I zip up my hoodie and lift a dark blue duffle bag. Instead of opening the door, I give the kids a head start and rattle the handle longer than needed.
My plan works since the little demons scatter over the sides of the staircase that leads to the house. I suppress a smile at Cindy’s failed attempt to stop her wild ginger hair from poking like antennas.
David stifles a giggle with tiny hands.
Hayley, on the other hand, is as still as a board, waiting to throw whatever insect she caught at me.
She’s seventeen. I have no idea why she likes pranking at this age. But it’s better to prank instead of drifting with those teenage thugs who roam around here.
I lean against the patched wall, pretending to not notice them.
“What do I have here?” I ask in a voice they can hear. “Oh, it’s chocolate. I wonder who would have this entire bag?”
It takes one second, two –
“Me!” Cindy jumps out from her hideout first, pointing a stern finger at her face. “Imma tell you what Hayley has if you give me all the chocolates!”
“Me also! Me also!” David hops out of his hiding spot on very energetic tiny legs. “Give me all ze chocolates!”
Hayley comes out last, groaning. She’s wearing her school uniform complete with a flannel skirt and dark blue jacket. She added fishnet stockings and dark makeup because she’s into that goth phase now. “You guys suck!”
“Daddy says that’s for bitches.” Cindy tries to subdue her mane of ginger hair behind her ears and fails.
Hayley and I exchange a look before I say, “All right, Cindy. No more eavesdropping on your daddy when he’s talking with grownups.”
“But I like it.” Cindy crosses her arms.
“No. I mean it. In exchange...” I hold out my fluffy ball to her. “I’ll give you Killer.”
Her dad has a foul mouth, but he’s kind and I often see him giving food to the neighbourhood cats.
Cindy’s blue eyes widen and she gasps for so long, her voice comes out breathy. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” With one last pat to Killer’s head, I hand him over. He snuggles into Cindy’s embrace. The fluffy ball always liked her.
I reach into my bag and give Hayley the boxing gloves she always admired.
She abandons her resting bitch face – or angsty teenage face. I can’t actually tell the difference. Her eyes widen and she holds the gloves like they’re Holy Scriptures. Even her hands shake. “The ones you won that championship with?”
I poke her. “It’s an underground championship. Doesn’t count.”
“’Course it does!” She throws me a calculative glance. “You’re giving them to me? For good?”
I nod and ruffle her blond hair with pink and green strands. “Don’t sell them on eBay.”
Hayley places a hand on her heart in some sort of an oath. “I promise to be a champion like you one day.”
“That’s my girl.” I mess her head some more when little hands pull on my jeans.
David’s huge brown eyes consider me with anticipation. “Can I get all ze chocolates, Elle?”
I burst into laughter. Demon.
“You get this.” I produce the old train toy; the only toy Ma ever bought me and the only toy I ever owned. “Treat it well.”
“I will!” He hugs the train to his chest protectively and holds out his other hand. “Now, can I haz ze chocolates.”
I give him a bag of Snickers. “Divide it amongst each other.”
God, I’m going to miss these little demons. They remind me so much of my childhood. Although I was never as innocent as them, and there was anger – lots of anger. The mischievousness has always been Zoe’s and my trait. Then, Liam joined us and we became unstoppable.
I never had blood siblings, but if I did, they couldn’t possibly have been better than Zoe. She protected me when I was too little to do it myself. Before we were taken into the system and bounced from one abusive family to another, she shoplifted and begged so we could eat.
No one understood a street urchin like another street urchin. Zoe and I were each other’s home.
And then she was gone. Poof. Without a trace.
The world tore and threw us from one foster home to the other, but we never got on our knees. We didn’t do it when we were young. We won’t be starting now.
I fought and I will continue to figh
t these damn streets. No way in hell will I let them swallow her.
In the kids’ excitement, only Hayley lifts her head, suspicion in her small eyes like she just realised something. “Are you going somewhere, Elle?”
When I don’t answer, Cindy pats Killer’s head with a trembling hand. “Are you gonna disappear like Zoe?”
“Are you?” David repeats, his upper lip quivering as if he will cry.
No crying in front of the kids, Elle.
“I won’t disappear like Zoe,” I say, determination bubbling in my veins. “I will bring her back.”
“Let’s go over this one more time.” Liam drums his fingers on the steering wheel of his old BMW while I sit beside him in the passenger seat.
We’re meeting in the neighbourhood for the last time. In front of Khaled’s greasy old restaurant that’s existed for decades.
My duffel bag with Zoe’s and my personal papers rests between my feet. It will remain with Liam. I’m fussing with the pink suitcase he gave me. It’s full of dresses and shoes and makeup I’ve been using in the last weeks since Zoe disappeared. “Does it have to be this… pink?”
“Listen, dammit.” Liam runs a hand through his dark blond hair. “I’m not even supposed to send you on this mission. We’re talking about gangsters. Drug dealers and damn killers. This is their version of the mafia in the UK, and you know what happens in the mafia? People disappear and don’t return. Let’s rethink this. It’s not a place for you.”
“It’s not a place for Zoe either!” I quit fiddling with the suitcase and face him. “She’s our family, Liam. How could you send her on that mission in the first place? You knew she was going to a nest of monsters.”
I don’t know who to be madder at. Zoe for hiding it or Liam for being an accomplice. Or both for keeping me in the dark.
I thought Zoe was busy because of the graduation exam at the police academy. I didn’t bug her when she said she needed to stay at a closed camp for revisions. Turns out that she was doing an undercover job in a notorious firm that’s related to all types of mafia activity. She didn’t even finish the academy. She quit to do this, and only our foster brother, Liam, knew.
Bitter betrayal fills my mouth. Yes, we’re close to Liam, and he’s a lieutenant in the Metropolitan Police, but I thought Zoe and I were a team. How could she do this without saying a word about it?
I will punch the answer out of her once I find her.
After I let her hug me.
“She didn’t listen to me either, dammit.” Liam continues the maniacal tapping on his steering wheel. His deep green eyes, like the colour of a forest after a deadly storm, plunge into mine. His posture stiffens. “Don’t do this, Rage Ball.”
My heart warms at the nickname from the neighbourhood. Back then, I used to punch anything and everything that got in my way. I kind of still do. Only Liam and Zoe call me that anymore.
“I have to.” I smooth my voice and bite my lip so it won’t tremble. “If I wasn’t so caught up in my own shit and that rubbish championship, maybe I would’ve noticed something. Maybe, when she called me at night and whispered, I shouldn’t have believed it was because of a no-phone policy. Maybe then, I would’ve been able to get her out of that place before it was too late.”
“Bollocks!” Liam continues tapping on the steering wheel. “She chose that. The Met Police didn’t approve of her mission. She went on her own – despite my objections; that’s why she’s suspended. Don’t repeat her mistake, Rage Ball. You might disappear like her.”
“I won’t.” I smile to relieve the tension. “We’re in this together, right?”
“Sure, sure. You will get me fired by these secret missions.” He throws his hands in the air. “Now, as for the plan. First and most important of all: don’t ever put yourself in fucking danger. Any threat and you’re out. Got it?”
I nod, and my fingers clutch my bracelet. What Liam doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I’m not leaving that place unless Zoe is attached to my arm.
“Two,” he continues. “Tell me what you know about the Firm.”
“Seriously?” I roll my eyes. “We’ve been over this a thousand times.”
“We need a million times because you’re physical and act before thinking. That needs to go if you’re going to be a spy.”
“Hey! That’s not true.”
He arches his brow. “Do you want me to recite the times you punched first and asked questions later?”
I shrug. “People respect those with strength.”
Strength is everything in the street. Any sign of weakness and I’ll be eaten alive. Just like my ma.
Liam raises an eyebrow, watching me intently.
“Fine,” I sigh. “The Firm is a legal front that deals in electronics led by Owen Green. Under the surface, they’re gangsters who deal in drugs. They do lots of money laundering, too and funnel all that into their most prestigious club, Le Salon.”
“But?” Liam urges.
“But the Met Police and the Financial Department cracked down on Owen’s illegal tax payment and threw him in prison. However, The Firm didn’t stop. In fact, drug dealing is becoming more nefarious than ever since someone else stepped in to lead Le Salon.”
“Ghost.” Liam’s jaw clenches. “That’s all the information we have about him. Just a fucking street name. Some Intel says he’s a Russian spy. Some say he isn’t even a real person. There’s no trace whatsoever.”
My fingers tighten around the bracelet. Rage bubbles under the surface.
Ghost is the last name Zoe mentioned to Liam the day she disappeared more than six weeks ago.
I will kill him with my bare hands once I find him. No one causes my only family to vanish and lives.
“And what do we have as an opening?” Liam asks as if querying a small child.
“Come on, L.” I fold my arms. “I spent countless hours in that cave of yours with all those boards and names in red.”
“You mean you spent countless hours punching the bag dangling from the ceiling of that cave.”
“I... did both.”
“So, who are you going to focus on?”
“Mist!” I do remember she’s the only way to Ghost because she’s the madam of Le Salon. But Liam kind of had a five-page report that I didn’t read. Or I read it and forgot. Mainly because it’s only speculations about her, like the speculations about Ghost being a Russian spy. Nothing concrete.
I prefer facts.
And I’ll get them myself.
“Remember, your priority is to find any security footage about the day Zoe disappeared in.” He’s tapping manically again. “Try to call me often, but don’t put yourself at risk.”
“Got it.”
We spent many sleepless nights preparing for this. He even had his female colleague train me to walk in heels and take me to clubs. That’s how I approached one of Le Salon’s girls, Lily, and snatched an appointment with Mist. Liam and I dedicated a lot of time and energy to this – even if Liam tried to coax me out. But now, I can feel doubt looming around us. I’ve always had Liam and Zoe.
Now, I will be all alone. Like that day I found Ma unmoving beside the trash can in the darkness.
I clasp my fingers together to prevent their shaking.
Liam’s green eyes measure me up and down. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll have to be.”
Because it’s the only way to get my family back.
After Liam leaves, I stand in Khaled’s old restaurant’s toilet, holding the impossibly high heels. These will kill my feet. It doesn’t matter how much I practise, they’re damn torture.
I don’t know how women walk in these things all day long. I’m already mourning my comfy sports shoes that I won’t be able to wear any time soon.
But I have to look the part to convince Mist to accept me in her club.
Agitated murmurs drift from the public toilet’s window. I wouldn’t have paid them attention, but a girl is saying no in a hushed tone, and he
r voice is awfully familiar.
I’m supposed to be dressed by now and on my way to Le Salon, but I can’t just ignore this. Zoe would tell me that I’m always running into trouble head first and stops me whenever possible.
But Zoe isn’t here.
I shove the dress and shoes in the suitcase and hide it under the counter. Then, I head outside where the commotion is coming from. As soon as I arrive at the back alley, the smell of piss and vomit nauseates me. Near the restaurant’s dumpster, a slim man is cornering a shorter girl against the wall. Although his height is covering my view of her, I can make out her trembling form and her hand clutching the hem of her flannel skirt.
Is that a school uniform?
“Don’t be scared,” the man says in a disgusting gruff voice with a hint of a cockney accent. “I’ll go easy on you, babe.”
“N-no, please,” she murmurs and then I make out the pink and green strands.
Hayley. Shit.
“Come on,” he coaxes.
“Don’t you understand what no means?” My voice is loud and even.
The man turns around so fast, a murderous shadow on his face. A faded scar runs from the middle of his forehead to underneath his left eye. Even without glaring, he appears monstrous. “Move along, bitch.”
He’s tall. Probably more than ten inches on me. It won’t be easy to strike a vital part unless he leaves an opening. I tiptoe to get a better view of Hayley and make sure she’s all right. She should be in school. I knew those thugs she hangs out with would get her in trouble.
Her lips part when she meets my gaze. Her frantic eyes stare between me and the man, then she hangs her head. I have to take care of him first, then we’re having a word.
The man comes at me, I punch him in the cheek. My bare fist burns.
He howls, clutching his face. “You fucking bitch!”
I slam my hook in his side, but before I can keep up the momentum, the bloke reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a knife. He wiggles it in my face while smirking. “Ye think ye’re a tough whore, eh?”
My muscles lock and my spine turns rigid. A fistfight is one thing, knives are entirely another. Yet, I’m not the type to back away from any fight. So, when he advances towards me, I remain rooted in place. The best technique of attack is to wait patiently until the opponent gives an opening.
