Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,30

in the helmet case and position myself behind him. The engine revs beneath us, and we hit the road. There is tension in his shoulders underneath my fingers as I cling to them. Although I’m still slightly scared by riding on this terrifying bike, all I can think about is what changed his mood.

Now that I think about it, Crow never mentioned who shot him that day. Why is he in France in the first place? Why did he have that seizure? Is it because of the mysterious drug in his bloodstream?

Countless questions and no answers.

Crow doesn’t kill the engine once we’re in front of the house. He stares in the distance, waiting for me to descend. I stand by the side of his bike, but the questions I want to ask don’t come out. Or more like Crow doesn’t give me the chance to ask anything.

He says, “Later,” and drives out of the gate, taking the road to town.

Shoulders sagged, I carry Charlotte inside, a million questions crossing my mind. The most important of all is: just what type of person is Crow?

It’s strange how much I want to know everything about him. If only I could push his buttons like he does mine.

Why would I want to push his buttons, anyway?

Instead of pondering on that, I decide to be useful. I stare at my house, my ancestors’ house, my family’s heirloom.

It’s time to do something about it.

*****

Renewed energy pulses through my veins even after I scrub the entire ground floor. I stand at the threshold, staring at the shining cupboards and the not-so-shabby walls. But some of the wallpaper needs remodelling. For once, Papa’s picture isn’t staring at a dirty place. His little smile is overlooking a decent, clean reception area.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and dry my hands on my apron. My gaze flickers to the pictures of Papa, Maman, and me. When they were gone, I thought I didn’t want to live anymore.

Crow proved to me that I didn’t want to die. No wonder why I was always reluctant about taking my own life. It’s the numbness that pushed me to those dark thoughts and complete surrender.

I’m strong enough to do something about it. This time, I won’t allow anything to happen to my home. This time, I will make Papa and Maman proud of me. Because this time, I’ll protect what they left for me with all my might.

I walk to the jar, retrieve a few pieces of paper and write.

‘I cleaned the house.’

‘I decided to try being alive.’

‘I had my real first kiss and it was a lot more thrilling than I could’ve imagined.’

The last note makes me nibble on the inside of my cheek as I place the folded papers in the jar.

My joints ache with pain after I finish cleaning the kitchen and fixing some of the broken wooden cupboards. An actual yawn escapes me when I give Charlotte her food.

Whoa. It’s been forever since I yawned. I check the time. Afternoon. My shift. I sigh. No rest for me.

After a shower, I grab my keys and head outside. I stand near the gate, searching in the distance. No sign of a bike or Crow.

My heart clenches, and it bothers me more than I like to admit.

I shake my head and settle in my car. Why would it bother me? Crow is just a stranger. A nobody.

Even as I tell myself that, I can’t help focusing on the sides of the road, hunting for a mere sight of him. When he doesn’t show, the uneasiness in my chest almost suffocates me.

The sensation doesn’t leave me even as I do my rounds in the hospital or listen to Céline as she talks about her daughter.

Has Crow returned by now? Is everything all right?

Ugh. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?

Crow is an assassin. He tried to kill me – even if deep down, I know he did that to push me to my limit. He’s good at pushing people to their limits. And yet, that doesn’t change who he is. What he is.

I seriously need to stop thinking about him. One day, he will leave and I’ll be on my own all over again.

The thought lodges a shard straight to my chest.

“Are you listening, Eloise?”

My attention snaps back to Céline. I wasn’t even focusing on what she said.

“Mais oui.” I smile.

“Mais non.” She nudges me with a pencil as we sit beside each other in the call room. For once,