this time, I detect the nervousness behind it.
Interesting.
So she’s using that smart mouth of hers as a defence mechanism to not show weakness.
Lachlan grabs her by the arm. “We’re settling this outside.”
She twists her hand, but when Lachlan doesn’t let go, it’s as if someone hit a switch. Her face reddens. Those soft features contort into pure panic. Her pupils dilate and her chest rises and falls quickly with ragged breaths.
Lachlan doesn’t notice the change since he’s bent on dragging her out. Her attempts to get herself free become frantic and unfocused, and something tells me she’ll soon turn violent.
A panic attack? Why?
I stand and tap Lachlan’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
He’s about to argue but clamps his mouth shut. For once, I’m glad the lad doesn’t argue.
He’s giving miss trouble a fright, and for an unknown reason, I don’t fucking like it.
If anyone will give her a fright, it should be me.
Lachlan drops her hand. She falls on the stool and shrinks in it while inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. It’s as if she’s trying to control her reaction.
We start to walk towards the exit when Natalie walks to us with slumped shoulders. She bows her head upon seeing me and keeps her eyes downcast.
There. They’re afraid of me. Meaning they respect me and keep their distance.
Perfect.
“Natalie,” I say. “Do you need something?”
“I have to give her a tour.” She motions at miss trouble. “She’s a new waitress.”
Well. Well. Well.
She’ll be working for the organisation. Every day. All day. My mind goes rampant with endless possibilities.
I grin. “What’s her name?”
Miss trouble snaps her head and starts to stop Natalie, but the latter already says, “Zoe.”
I still prefer miss trouble, but I had to get the name out of the way.
I tap in front of her once. “Looks like I found out your secret, Zoe.”
A defiant glare meets me, and her lips press in a line like she’s seething inside.
I wink at her and leave with Lachlan.
Looks like my days have become a lot more fucking interesting.
Lachlan and I pass rows of production. Workers go about filling boxes like bees. It’s fitting that they’re all wearing plastic overalls and caps.
It’s a factory after all.
No. Not a normal one. Well, on the outside, it’s a legal beauty products’ factory, but on the inside, a good portion is dedicated to coke.
Where do I fit in all this? I run the fucking thing.
Or I run it for someone or what-the-bloody-hell-ever.
Worst part? I have no say in the matter.
I belong to the assassination organisation The Pit. Petty fucking name, if you ask me, but Hades, the founder, is hideous with street names. See mine for reference.
The Pit handles killing contracts and Hades takes a large share. The tale doesn’t end there. You think we all signed up willingly for this? We like being ordered around like dogs?
No, and fucking no.
I’m from the first generation, Hades trial and error generation, which he so fittingly named Team Zero. No shit. He’s that rubbish with names. He kidnapped fifty of us from the streets when we were children or early teens. He chose those of us who are orphaned, street urchins, and absolute nobodies that no one will miss.
One would think it’s over with the whole kidnapping, but fucking nope. See, Hades and his partners are fucked up. He had this ingenious idea of building an army of killers to serve under his command. He injected us with the drug Omega so we’d become his loyal servants.
That drug is the fucking devil. Not only do we barely have any memories from the years before our kidnapping, but it also erased our bloody humanity. Scratch. None. We were only designed to kill.
We only know blood. Its absence confuses us.
To Hades’ bloody doom, things didn’t go well. Out of fifty subjects, only twelve survived. Since then, we do Hades’ bidding because Omega’s withdrawal is a fucking bitch. No shit. It’s the worse bitch anyone can come across. Imagine having a few naked, green, disgusting bitches who appear like some elf terrorists hitting your brain with an axe over and fucking over again.
That’s how bad it is when on withdrawal. At least for me.
No Team Zero member would want to go through that torture.
Only, well, fuck Hades. One of our mates, Diablo died from that poison a month or so ago because Omega eventually destroyed his organs like bloody stage five cancer with no symptoms.
I don’t know about everyone else, but that won’t be my end.
So when Ghost