Misted: Team Zero Book Four Read online

  Misted

  Team Zero Book Four

  Rina Kent

  Misted Copyright © 2019 by Rina Kent

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Published by RK Publishing House.

  Edited by Annabelle Reid.

  Proofread by Nora Edmonds.

  Cover Design by Rolling Waves Designs.

  P.S. Pirates are bad. Not Johnny Depp’s Captain Sparrow bad, but seriously effing bad. Support an author by buying a book. Don’t be a totally-not-cool pirate.

  To the broken ones,

  This is for you for not letting them dim your light.

  You are strong and perfect just the way you are.

  Chin up. Stand tall. Sometimes, broken things are more beautiful.

  Author Note

  To remain true to the characters and the author’s origins, the vocabulary, grammar, and spelling of Misted is written in British English.

  Misted can be read as a standalone novel, but for a better understanding of Team Zero’s world, consider reading the previous books in the series first.

  This book is a dark romance with explicit, non-conventional sexual situations and pure enemies to lovers’ hate. Please don’t read if any of that offends you.

  Don’t forget to Sign up to Rina Kent’s Newsletter for news about future releases and an exclusive gift.

  Blurb

  She’s his deadly obsession. He’s her dark secret.

  Mist

  Our secret tore us apart turned us into enemies.

  He doesn’t know that I’m keeping a bigger secret from him.

  So when he returns demanding to rule the mafia business with me, I fight back.

  We can’t coexist when there’s so much blood between us. Or so I tell myself as I fall harder and deeper for him all over again.

  I need to stop before the blood on my hands destroys us.

  Hawk

  She thinks I don’t know.

  She thinks she can hide just because I left her alone for fifteen years.

  See, I never left.

  I’ve been watching, scheming, and calculating until the right moment to strike.

  I’m done lurking in the shadows.

  Our secret isn’t scary. I am.

  Playlist

  Theme Song

  Hate Me – Eurielle

  Playlist

  Follow You – Bring Me The Horizon

  Pieces – Red

  Cold – Five Fingers Death Punch

  Broken – Seether & Amy Lee

  War – Former Vandal

  Shattered – Trading Yesterday

  We Have It All – Pim Stones

  Surge – Em Harris

  Already Over – Red

  No One’s Here to Sleep – Bastille & Naughty Boy

  Not Strong Enough – Apolyptica

  Comatose – Skillet

  Haunted – Evanescence

  Never be the Same – Red

  Should Have Known Better – Hinder

  Find the Playlist on Spotify

  1

  Hawk

  You set my heart on fire and watched while it turned to ashes.

  I need to find her.

  Pain slashes through my shoulders and my tendons ripple with every breath I take.

  The leather restraints dig into my arm and slash into my skin. A sticky hot liquid coats it, forming rivulets down my arms and drips to pool on the white tiles.

  The fresh bullet wound in my back pulses and throbs like a breathing fucking animal. Whatever bandage they fixed me with has ripped due to all my struggles.

  Fuck the wound.

  Fuck the pain.

  Fuck these restraints.

  I need to find her.

  The humidity in the stark white room coats my skin and melts with my bloody bones. If I don’t die due to the cowardly shot in the back, I’ll surely perish thanks to infection.

  I grit my teeth and push forward against the restraints with all my might. The straps slash further into my already broken skin. The metal chair scrapes against the tile flooring with a loud squeak as blood continues dripping.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  I need to find her.

  Still sitting on the chair, I swing myself back and slam my shoulder against the wall. The pop of dislocation fills the silence. My sniper shoulder. My reason for survival all these years.

  I grind my jaw as the searing pain hits straight to my bones. I don’t waste time on pain. Pain is a phase. Pain is disposable. She isn’t.

  Due to my limp arm, I manage to rip the restraints and stagger to my feet.

  A wave of dizziness causes me to sway as blood sticks my T-shirt to my back and trickles down my arms. I shake my head and blink away the haziness. She won’t be safe if I pass out.

  The reminder of my promise to her and her promise to me is like a shot of adrenaline.

  A hazy wave clouds my head like a drug hit, shooting through my veins and pumping in my bloodstream.

  I tear through the daze, the pain, and the blurriness in my vision.

  Biting my lower lip, I grab the wrist of my injured arm and pull straight and forward with one snap.

  A pop sounds indicating that the arm bone is back to the shoulder’s socket. The tingling and throbbing lull back to a dull ache, but it’s nothing compared to the urge burning inside me.

  I need to find her.

  Knowing that there’s a guard right outside the door, I lift the chair with my good arm, knock it on the wall until it makes a bang, then I hide behind the door. Once it clicks open, a guard steps inside with his M16 dangling off his shoulder.

  His bald head barely makes an appearance. He stops when noticing I’m not in the pool of blood I left behind. He takes another step forward and I slam the metal against his head.

  He falls to the floor with a thump, the back of his bald head smashed.

  I grunt as I crouch and untangle his M16.

  Hades will slaughter me for killing his guard, but I didn’t start this to stop now. If the devil wants a battle, I’ll give him a fucking war.

  The only thing that matters is her.

  I stagger to the hallway, carrying the rifle with my non-dominant hand while the other one lies limp by my side. It won’t be useful for now, anyway.

  The Pit’s long white hallway appears endless as I forge forward with my blood dripping all over the white tiles, leaving unmistakable trails in my wake. It won’t be long before they track me down.

  I need to find her.

  A guard rounds the corner with his semi-automatic gun held high. I shoot him in the forehead before he can react and step on his body. Only one mission remains in my hazy head and fuck everyone who gets in my way.

  My finger on the trigger is hyper-aware. One movement and I’ll slaughter anyone who comes in sight.

  I drag my semi-numb feet along the floor. Any other human; shot, bleeding, and drugged, would pass out by now. But I’m running on something unhuman. I’m running on a need so strong, I can’t feel my own body.

  Everything is an extension and replaceable. I can’t breathe or think properly until I find her.

  A rustle sounds from down the hall. I raise my rifle, waiting for the head to appear so I can blow it off.

  I halt, my fingers twitching and my blurry vision clearing.

  Hellion.

  Fiery red hair falls in waves over her shoulders and down her back like a cocoon. The white dress blends against her milky white skin, making her appear like an angel.

  My fucking angel.

  The pain and the blood and the burn and every single atrocity disappear at her sight. As always.

  She’s my salvation in damnation.

  My one-way ticket out of this madness.

  I found her.

  I run to her despite my half-beaten leg and my dazed head.

  Her hazel eyes are like a lioness’ with sparks of forest green and earthy brown. Tiny freckles splash on either side of her small nose like stardust.

  My beautiful hellion.

  When I’m within reach, I fling the rifle to my back and grab her cheeks with both my hands. My blood mars her translucent skin and right in this moment, I promise myself that from today onwards, there’ll be no more blood in our lives.

  We’ve been here for more than eight years. She’s maybe eighteen and I’m a few years older. We never knew normal, but today we’ll take our first leap into it.

  “We’re leaving.” My cracked lips press against her soft ones in a quick kiss. “I don’t fucking care if we have to shoot our way out of this hell.”

  She says nothing. Even her expressive eyes aren’t talking to me or acknowledging me. Lost. Out of this place. Far.

  “Hellion,” I grab the back of her head tighter. “No one will hurt you as long as I’m here.”

  She places a small, delicate hand on my chest and pushes hard. It might be because I’
m injured or she finally took my advice for the arm-strengthening exercises, but she manages to make me step back.

  “It’s over.”

  My eye twitches. “What?”

  “I got rid of it.” Her voice drifts in a cold, levelled tone. “It’s done.”

  “Hellion?”

  A blow hits the back of my head and I fall, my knees crushing against the tile. I try to get up, but we’re surrounded by guards.

  I need to protect her. I need to —

  “Goodbye, Hawk.” Mist looks down at me with a hollow expression as another blow smashes my nape then another and another.

  I’m too stunned to react. Too caught up in her cold, unfeeling hazel eyes that I once considered my home.

  She stands like a non-breathing, non-feeling statue, watching as they beat me and then Hades’ words from earlier return like a horned monster.

  Mist told us your location. She’s the reason you’re shot.

  I didn’t believe him because he’s nothing and she’s everything.

  But now as the darkness shrouds my vision, she turns and fucking leaves.

  I got rid of it.

  It’s the last thought I have before a roar claws from my lips and black sucks me into its clutches.

  2

  Mist

  You were a soft breeze that transformed into a deadly hurricane.

  Fifteen years later,

  Someone is watching me.

  The air thickens with unwanted interest. I don’t need to scan my surroundings to feel their eyes on me.

  You know what will happen if you disobey.

  This morning’s text still sends zaps of discomfort down my spine.

  They’re here and there’s nothing I can do about it with the girls around.

  My steps remain composed. The clack of my Louboutin’s heels echo in the stairs as I waltz down towards Le Salon’s main club area. The sound of my shoes dims as soft music thumps from the speakers.

  Le Salon’s lounge area resembles a hotel’s reception hall. Elegant, rich men sit on the sofas with the girls, drinking and laughing. Despite the dim lighting, I scan each of them. One man has his hand up Shelly’s thigh under her dress and she giggles, pressing into him. I leave her be.

  They’re only escorts and sex isn’t expected of them, but some girls do it the entire time. If they’re consenting, then it’s not my place to tell them otherwise.

  Le Salon’s entertainment parlour is our façade to the underground business. We need these high corrupt politicians to keep it afloat, but there’s no way in hell a girl under my wing would be forced to do anything.

  I might have become the reluctant madam of this place, but after several months of supervising, I can’t help feeling responsible for these girls. Just hearing about how the previous owner abused them causes my blood to boil.

  “Mist!” A frightened voice calls from behind me.

  I whirl around as Sarah comes to a screeching halt. Her dishevelled brown hair points in all directions like she’s had an electricity static. Her dark eyes are widened in horror and lipstick smudges all over her cheek and chin. Both her hands are crossed over her chest, hiding the gash of torn clothes.

  “Who did that?” My voice is calm, to not alarm her, but the need to kill and maim boils through my veins like acid.

  “He…” She pants and bites her lip before continuing. “Jessica! He has Jessie. She couldn’t escape.”

  Sarah starts trembling, her fingers spasming. The shock is wearing out and she’ll break down about now. I clutch her arm, shake her and say in a loud, clear voice. “Which room?”

  “I…” Tears well in her eyes as she opens her mouth, but says nothing.

  Dammit. If she starts crying, I won’t get to Jessica in time.

  I can check the security feed, but that will take time I don’t have.

  “Sarah.” I grab both her shoulders and force her to face me. I’m told I’m scary when serious, and while I want to comfort Sarah, Jessica is a priority. “Breathe. I need you to tell me where Jessica is so I can help her.”

  “Thir… teen.” She chokes out in a sob, her tears fall loose like the oozing of blood. The sight of her crying tightens my chest, but I force myself to leave her behind.

  I punch the lift’s button. It doesn’t come down. I bunch my high couture dress to above my knees and storm to the stairs, taking two at a time. My breathing remains steady when I arrive at the top.

  This is nothing compared to the lethal training we went through since we were kids.

  I swipe my complete-access card and barge through the door. Jessica’s pained cries and muffled whimpers into the pillow reach me first.

  A bulky man twice her size pins her down with his body from behind. He has greasy, dark grey hair, bushy eyebrows and a belly fit for a swine. His fat fingers reach underneath her torn gown while his other hand immobilises her head in place.

  Memories shoot through me like an unstoppable storm. Wreaking. Destructive. Real.

  It might have been a decade and a half, but the crippling pain remains the same. I see myself in Jessica’s state. The helplessness. The heartbreak. The fucking anger. I hold onto the last one and let it rush through me.

  I can do anger and I can do it so well.

  If I use my knife, I’d kill him and we don’t need blood in Le Salon right now, especially since the police are watching our every move.

  I grab a lamp and throw it at his back. He screams like a schoolboy with a grown man’s voice. As he staggers backwards, Jessica scrambles from underneath him, crawls to the other end of the bed, and hugs her knees to her chest.

  “What the fuck?” The man swings a fist back at me when I’m within arm’s reach. He’s obviously new blood or he wouldn’t have dared to touch the girls under my roof.

  I grab his arm and twist it behind his back. He’s bigger than me, but I’ve dealt with bigger and more trained opponents. I shove my leg into his back, using it as leverage and yank his arm backwards.

  He screeches in pain as his shoulder pops from its joints. I suppress a smirk at the sound of the scum’s agony as he falls on the floor, wailing.

  I’m not done.

  Not even close.

  I reach for the pointy knife sheathed under my dress. The black, cold hilt sends the familiar, consuming thrill through my veins.

  Fuck the police and fuck the ‘no killing’ rule on Le Salon’s grounds. I’ll murder this arsehole and throw his rotten body in the sea.

  “You fucking bitch.” The man snarls, still holding his injured shoulder while sitting on the carpeted floor. The knife doesn’t seem to faze him. Most powerful men think they’re too untouchable that no one would dare hurt them.

  He messed with the wrong person.

  “Do you know who I am?” A foam of spit spills from the corner of his thin mouth. “I’ll send you behind the sun for fucking eternity.”

  I smile like a plastic doll, caressing the hilt of my knife as if it’s a pet. “You can’t do that when you’re dead, now can you?”

  The scum must’ve realised I’m serious since he swallows and sweat beams on his forehead. “I’m the secretary of the cabinet –”

  I crouch in front of him and hold the blade to his throat. “Too bad I don’t care.”

  He gulps audibly and the knife cuts through the skin. “P-please.”

  “When she told you please, did you listen to her?” My voice becomes louder, and I feel the demons of my past crowding the space. I stand up and kick him in the ribs with my pointy heel. Over and over until he’s curled in a ball, wheezing like a kid. “Did you listen, you scum?” Kick. “Did you stop?” Kick. “Did you?”

  I’m about to finish his miserable life when soft, trembling hands touch my arm. Jessica stares up at me with tear-streaked mascara and haunted blue eyes. Her small voice is barely audible when she speaks. “He’s really important and can hurt you.”

  No one can. The only two capable of that are long gone.

  But I also can’t kill this bastard in front of her when she’s already traumatised.