Team Zero Series 1-3 Boxed Set

by Rina Kent

  I reach to shut off the lamp, but she clutches my hand and murmurs without opening her eyes. “Leave it on.”

  Is she afraid of the dark? I want to ask her why, but her breathing has already evened out. I have no choice but to follow her.

  I know this will be the best sleep I’ve had in ages.

  11

  Elle

  Zoe stares at me with vacant eyes. Her once-soft features are now gloomy. A line of blood trickles from the side of her head. Then another line follows. And another. Until her entire face is smudged in blood.

  “Run, Elle!”

  I gasp, startling awake. My back is drenched with sweat and my hands are shaking.

  A nightmare. Just a nightmare.

  Zoe is fine. She must be.

  Even as I tell myself that, my lips quiver and tears threaten to spill. I hold them back and cast a quick glance at my grey surroundings. The clock reads a little after five in the morning.

  Julian’s side of the bed is cold and empty. I frown because... I don’t freaking like it.

  His scent is all over me from how he held me to sleep last night and the night before and the other before that.

  For three nights, he’s been hugging me to sleep, and for three nights, I’ve slept like a baby but woke up to this abhorrent emptiness.

  After he wrapped his arms around me the first time, I didn’t even fight him. What was the point, anyway? If Julian decides to do something, he will just do it. Besides, I needed to spy on him, so being close made perfect sense.

  Or that’s what I told myself as I surrendered to his embrace.

  Just the recollection of his hard chest against my back, his veiny arms around my waist, and his legs over mine, causes my thighs to throb.

  For a strange reason, being close to him, to the point where his body heat overwhelmed mine sprung a sense safety. Which is stupid. I don’t need anyone to feel safe.

  Julian is making me question that. He’s making me question many things I’ve taken for granted.

  It doesn’t help that I’ve seen him in that inhumane state the other night.

  The dead, glassy look grates at me. Lethal. Ruthless. Cold. Admittedly, Julian does have a portion of those traits, but they’re not all that he is. The real Julian focuses on me and knows who I am. The handcuffed man was anything but the Julian I’ve come to know.

  The relief that flooded me upon seeing him back to normal baffled me. I’m not supposed to care. Julian is only a means to find Zoe. Nothing more.

  Absolutely nothing.

  With that resolve, I jump out of bed. Two days ago, my clothes from my room with Scar appeared near the door. Typical Julian.

  My phone vibrates. A text.

  Scar – I’m back, Ellie! Come over.

  She wasn’t in Le Salon for these past three days. She sent me a text about needing a holiday. I’ve been on the edge of my seat waiting for her return to ask her about whatever Omega Ghost mentioned.

  After taking a shower and putting on jeans and a camisole, I leave the storehouse.

  Overcast sky stretches as far as my vision can see. Grunts catch my attention as soon as I step outside. The distance from here to Le Salon is long enough that it’s practically a separated property. So, those grunts can’t be coming from Le Salon.

  I follow the sound, and that leads me to the back garden of the storehouse. Or more like a piece of land with so much tall grass.

  Pine trees stretch in the distance, camouflaging Le Salon from any prying eyes. There are hidden alarm traps attached to the main system. From the outside looking in, the place appears unkempt, but it’s highly secured.

  That’s what I learnt from snooping around the control room.

  I freeze at the corner of the storehouse. The reason behind the grunts is Julian and Shadow going at a fierce boxing match. I grab the corner of the wall and hide behind it. Only my head pokes out.

  Is this why Julian wakes up so early?

  Both of them are in shorts. Their upper bodies on full display. The only one in my field of vision is Julian. My eyes widen as I finally make out the entirety of his tattoos.

  It’s one large sketch-style tattoo of a warrior stretched on Julian’s back. He’s in armour, but it isn’t from an era I recognise. Probably a samurai? A metal helmet covers his features, and his eyes are black holes. The warrior’s arms glide over Julian’s biceps and his gloved hand squeezes around his arms. Intricate tendrils shoot from the sketch and swirl all around Julian’s sides, shoulders, collarbone, and wrists. The details are so vibrant and lively, it’s like the warrior could pop out and harvest lives.

  My mouth waters at how beautiful Julian is. I wonder if the warrior has a meaning. Julian and Shadow’s tattoos are so real and striking. Maybe they’re made by the same artist. I can’t help greedily spying for more.

  Julian isn’t bulky or lean. He falls somewhere in between. Agile, and as sharp as his strikes. His entire torso is coated with perspiration.

  I gulp as I follow the droplets of sweat trickling from the side of his roguish face. They continue their path down the throbbing veins in his neck and across his defined chest and cut abdomen. His shorts hang low on his hips, teasing at a perfect V. My face heats.

  I force myself to focus on the match.

  Julian and Shadow aren’t using gloves. Instead, their fists are bandaged. That’s so dangerous. Especially since they’re delivering fast hooks and kicks at each other. Their striking force is so brutal. I’m sure it would send me slamming into a tree.

  Shadow launches a sharp uppercut at Julian’s chin. The latter ducks, and the hit catches him in the collarbone. Julian staggers backwards and bounces back with a kick, straight to Shadows face. Despite the latter’s blocking, Julian catches him in the mouth. Blood gushes from Shadow’s lower lip and trickles down his neck.

  This isn’t boxing, Thai boxing, or even bare-knuckled street fighting. It’s downright brutal and meant to hurt. Why would they do that to each other?

  I take a few tentative steps to have a better look at their expressions. When I’m close enough, coldness frosts my limbs.

  Their eyes are glassed over, hovering between dead and inhuman. It’s disturbingly similar to the look I saw on Julian’s and Mist’s faces the other night. Up close, their tattoos are marred with countless scars. Their bandaged knuckles are bleeding, but they pay them no attention. It’s like they feel no pain and see no blood.

  What type of gangsters are they? My gaze strays to Julian. What type of person is Julian? What causes him to zone out?

  Sharp dark eyes shoot my way.

  Julian’s.

  I don’t think. I run back to Le Salon. I don’t want to face him in that state. That version lodges a deep fear inside me.

  There’s only one way to find out why.

  I find Scar in the room, dancing to Oasis — again. Not sure if people dance to Oasis, but Scar sure does.

  Today, she’s wearing a T-shirt on which is written, ‘Forbidden Fantasy’. Whatever that means.

  Once I come in, she jumps me into a hug, then sits me in front of the mirror to do my makeup. Sometimes, I wonder if she sees me as her doll or something.

  I remain silent as she applies foundation and what she calls ‘natural makeup’. If it’s makeup, why is it called natural?

  My mind drifts to Julian and whatever causes him to change. He was so warm the past few nights, and dare I say, so... real. The look in his eyes this morning is anything but warm.

  I need to know why.

  Just because I’m using him, and I need to know more about who I’m using.

  That’s all.

  Scar has moved to my hair now, so I get a chance to speak.

  “Ghost told me to ask you about Omega,” I say without beating around the bush.

  I expected her to be surprised or bombard me with questions, but she simply smirks while straightening my hair. “Did he now?”

  I try to face her, but she swats my shoulder and keeps me in place. I
sigh and stare at her through the mirror. “How do you know Ghost?”

  “He brought me in.”

  “Why?”

  She appears nostalgic for a few seconds, her movements mechanical on my hair. “Because I need this place to feel alive.”

  “You need to feel alive by offering yourself to random men?” I almost slap a hand on my mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be judgy.”

  She smiles at me through the mirror. She’s holding my hair in a fist but does nothing. “Some of us need to do crazy things to feel alive. Perhaps one day you’ll understand.”

  I won’t. But I don’t press. Scarlett has always been odd, but as long as she’s not forced into this, then I have nothing to say in the matter.

  So I press on the important issue at hand. “What is it about Omega?”

  “You must’ve been snooping around while I was gone.” She narrows her eyes on me in the mirror, but it’s more amusement than anything.

  “Does that matter?” I ask. When she remains silent, I give her an encouraging – or what must appear like an impatient – look. “So?”

  “You’re too curious for your own good, Ellie. Just drop this. The less you know the better.”

  “Why? What’s Omega?”

  She combs through my hair. “It’s a drug.”

  “Like the ones in the streets?” I’ve never seen someone’s expression turn as stone cold as Mist’s and Julian’s, though. And I’ve seen a lot of druggies and thugs while living on the streets.

  Scarlett laughs. “Oh, no. This is nowhere on the street. It’s exclusive and only made for specific people. They become hyper-focused, cold, and barely feel any pain... amongst other things.”

  Like Shadow, Mist, and Julian. It makes sense how they showed no sign of pain even when they were bleeding.

  “But...” Scarlett trails off, her expression getting lost and her fingers pause in my hair.

  “But?” I urge.

  “It has multiple side effects depending on the person. Some suffer from retrograde amnesia after the effects wear off, so they remember nothing of what they’ve done while on the drugs. Others go on rampages, and some even die.”

  “D-die?” My heartbeat skyrockets and my legs start bouncing. Could it be that Zoe was on this drug? Did they use her as a guinea pig? Perhaps that’s why she disappeared.

  A nagging part, something I don’t identify, is also worried about Julian. Will he also die?

  “Not the ones who initially survived,” Scar says.

  Strange relief relaxes my muscles.

  Wait.

  “How do you know all this, Scar?” I meet her gaze through the mirror. She’s so knowledgeable about something that’s obviously kept under wraps. While I like that she’s answering my questions, something doesn’t sit right.

  “By making the right connections, Ellie.” She smooths my hair and it falls to the small of my back. As usual, she made me beautiful by only a few touches of mascara, eyeliner, and pink lipstick. “If you’re smart enough, you can also make those connections.”

  “By becoming an escort?” My skin crawls just thinking about it.

  She laughs. “Julian won’t allow it. You’re his, remember?”

  “I’m not his.” My cheeks redden. No idea if it’s because of anger or embarrassment. There’s become a fine line between the two.

  She pats my shoulder with amusement. “Did you know that four thousand people starved to death in the siege of Leningrad on Christmas during World War Two?”

  “No. Thanks for the info.” I really wonder why she’s into such brutal history facts.

  “My pleasure!” Scar plops on her bed and blasts Oasis music. Which means that she won’t open up anymore. If I try asking questions, she will gush about the lead vocalist for an hour.

  I let her be and head to the bar. After a small inventory, I ask one of the cleaning staff members about the cognac storage. Kyle likes drinking it during the day, no idea why, but this is a perfect opportunity to try with the control room again.

  Considering what Scar has told me, Zoe could’ve taken this Omega drug. Maybe she survived and they had to cuff her somewhere like Ghost did to Mist and Julian.

  I’m probably reading too much into this, but I need to get the security footage. Liam said the police couldn’t issue an order to search Le Salon or even see the cameras because there was no evidence.

  If I can get my hands on the footage from the day Zoe disappeared, I’m sure I’ll find something useful. Daytime is the best for such missions since Kyle usually stays alone in the control room.

  After pouring a glass of cognac, I take it upstairs. My thoughts keep flicking back and forth about who made Zoe take the drug — if that’s the case.

  Mist is at the top of the list. I never liked that redhead witch. Since the first day, she always appeared to be a cold, conniving bitch. However, I did notice how she took care of the girls and even sends her guards whenever any customer goes beyond the line. But she could be only doing that to protect her business.

  Shadow appears carefree, but he’s the hardest one to crack. After the exchange we had the other day, he’s been giving me suspicious stares. They’re not like Julian’s intense ones. Shadow thinks he knows me, and it’s nerve-wracking.

  Ghost is... odd. I can’t put my finger on it, but he appears so different from what I imagined Ghost to be like. It doesn’t make sense that he would tell me about Omega unless he planned something. He’s still the most suspicious of all because Zoe mentioned his name to Liam right before her disappearance.

  He’s been true to his name and disappeared without a trace. I tried snooping near Mist’s office, hoping to catch him in there, but aside from Mist watching her phone, there’s no trace of him.

  It’s like I only see Ghost when he wants me to, not the other way around.

  I knock on the control room’s door. Kyle greets me with a blinding smile, eyes gleaming with mischievousness. I’ve already put him at the end of my suspects’ list. He just seems like the fashionable type who got caught in a gangsters’ world. At times, I wonder if he had a choice or if he’s just following Julian.

  And then, I go on an endless loop wondering why is Julian in this world in the first place. Why does he even take drugs?

  I’m wondering an awful lot of things that I shouldn’t about Julian.

  He’s just a stepping stone to find Zoe.

  Totally.

  Absolutely.

  “Always grand to see ye, love.” Kyle swings the door wide open. “Come in.”

  I saunter inside and place the tray on a small table in front of a sofa. As expected, Kyle is alone. The walls are filled with several screens of the hallways and the club area. Different angles, even behind the bar. Thank God I haven’t been doing anything odd there.

  The chairs in front of the screens are empty. Kyle has discarded his denim jacket and is sitting on the sofa in jeans and a grey T-shirt. He makes satisfied sounds while savouring the cognac.

  I manage an awed expression. “Whoa. You keep an eye on all this?”

  “It’s nothing now, love. The headache is at night.” He winks and pats the place beside him. “Join me for a drink.”

  “I only brought one glass.” I stall while trying to be discreet about roaming the room with my eyes. This is the first time Kyle hasn’t dragged me out. Perhaps, he’s starting to trust me. There’s a metal cabinet on the side, on which is written ‘Archive’.

  Bingo.

  There’s a traditional lock that I’m sure I can pick. Could it be that easy? The hardest part would be to find an opening. It’s impossible for the control room to be empty. If Kyle isn’t here, then one or two of his men take the task. I tried bribing them with alcohol, but they only shooed me away.

  Now, I know it’s because of Julian. They don’t dare look or touch someone who’s under his protection. He’s making my mission tenfold harder.

  A hand pulls at mine. I startle then clench my fist to not throw a punch. I’
m yanked back and end up sitting on Kyle’s lap, facing him. One of his arms surrounds my waist while the other holds the glass of cognac between us. His eyes gleam as he smirks. “We can share, love.”

  I gulp. If I push him away, he might not allow me here again. I place my hands on his shoulders and smile. “Of course.”

  He stares at my lips, and my breath catches in my throat. I attempt to focus, to stop the uneasiness crawling up my spine, but I can’t.

  It’s just a kiss, Elle. You’ve kissed before. Nothing will happen.

  And yet, as Kyle tightens his hold around my waist, all I can think about is those strong arms that held me tight during the previous nights. I don’t see Kyle’s lips. All I can picture is Julian’s warm breaths tickling down my neck and his heat lulling me to sleep.

  I don’t want to kiss Kyle. Not when an entirely different man is on my mind.

  I’m about to push him away when the door swings open. Julian strides inside, an angry scowl tightens his face. He approaches us with wide steps. His muscles flex underneath the white shirt.

  My mouth dries, and I gulp, unable to look away from the sheer intensity in his eyes. He’s so raw and physical, it’s doing stupid shit to my body.

  Julian clutches my hand in his bigger one and yanks me to my feet.

  My stomach tightens as I take in his reaction. It’s like Julian’s anger grew hands and is roaming all over my body. It’s kissing and ravaging me senseless. The space between my legs tingles and heat smothers me.

  There’s definitely something wrong with me because I think I’m loving his reaction.

  No. I’m sure I do.

  12

  Elle

  The deep darkness on Julian’s face keeps me rooted in place. Just his side profile is oozing with that enigmatic thing he has going on. He’s all primal and male. My mouth is dry from just studying the sharp line of his jaw and the pointed glare he has on Kyle.

  If looks could kill, Kyle would be chopped to pieces about now. He isn’t a bit fazed, though. On the contrary, a satisfied gleam covers his face, complete with a smirk.