Chapter 18 Taking Her Shot #3
He stood in front of the scanner, then punched in a code. After yanking open the fire door, he waited while she slipped inside. The noise from the main dining room struck her. She’d expected silence.
“It sounds like a damn party,” she muttered as Tank led her down the hall.
Seconds later, he was closing his office door.
Then, he made a call. “It’s Tank. I’m in my office.
We’ll eat in the dining room when the restaurant clears.
Make sure the front door is locked. And bring me two large bottles of sparkling mineral water and two glasses. ” He hung up.
She was too keyed up to sit, so she paced. Her mind was racing from the event. The past several hours had been intense.
“We can’t assume the five remaining terrorists won’t strike tonight,” she said as he pulled her into his arms.
“They’ll go dark while they regroup. I’ll upload their pictures before the holiday.”
“Wow, Thanksgiving is this week.” She pulled out her the hair tie, ran her fingers through her head. “Got any aspirin?”
Knock-knock.
Tank handed her a bottle of pain relievers before he opened the door and took the tray of waters. “What’s the status?” he asked the server.
“Greystone and Caroline told everyone the event is over,” said the waiter, “but there’s a lot of convos about an ambush. Your appetizers are ready if you want them.”
Tank glanced over at Sydney, who was pacing, the energy still flowing through her like a wild river.
“Water’s good for now,” she said.
“Hold the food,” Tank said. “Let me know when the restaurant is empty and lock the front door.”
Tank shut the door, made a call. Grey answered.
“We’ve got some slow movers,” Grey said.
“The server overheard some of the chatter,” Tank said. “If you won’t shut it down, I’ll come out there and blast them.”
“You gotta take it down,” Grey pushed back.
“No, I don’t. They shouldn’t be talking about a goddamn mission in a public place. Fuck it. I’ll do it.” He hung up, turned to Sydney. “Back in two.”
He left, shutting the door behind him. Curious how he’d handle things—and kinda turned on by his anger—she followed him out, shutting the office door behind her.
She hung back as Tank strode to the bar, hopped up. He whistled, then shouted, “Yo, team, we gotta end the convos.”
Silence.
All eyes on him.
“What did happen out there?” one of the ALPHA Ops shouted from the other side of the restaurant.
Ignoring the question, Tank continued. “Thanks for being willing to put yourselves out there today, but it’s time to shut this down. Now.”
As Ops started moving toward the door, Tank oversaw their exit from his spot on the bar. Sydney was grateful he’d done that. From the looks of the crowd, it didn’t appear as if anyone was in a rush to leave.
Ten minutes later, the Ops had left. The only ones that remained were the servers, the kitchen staff, Grey and Caroline.
Sydney made her way to Tank as Grey and Caroline joined them.
When Tank placed his hand on her back and gently caressed her, she felt complete. Feeling that way only complicated her emotions. Normally, after an assassination, she would silence her mind and close her heart. If she didn’t, the killings would weigh heavy on her soul.
“Thanks for taking care of that,” Grey said.
“We’ll sync up tomorrow,” Tank said. “Probably not until early afternoon. I’m gonna make sure Sydney has some down time.”
“Thank you,” she said before she leaned against him.
It wasn’t professional, but she didn’t care.
He was it. She’d found her person. It was easy to say that when everything was going well.
When life was stress free and perfect. But they’d just gone through another ambush, and her nerves were shredded.
Even in her wildest dreams, she never imagined finding someone this special.
Caroline smiled. “You’re both our heroes. Today would have turned out very differently if it hadn’t been for you, Syd. Thank you for being the absolute best at what you do.”
They left, locking the front door behind them. Tank led her to the owner’s booth, retrieved their chilled bottles of water and filled their glasses. As soon he sat, two servers appeared with so much food, Sydney laughed.
“You’ll have some great take-home meals,” one of the servers said as they set down the variety of dishes.
She eyed the chicken parm and the eggplant. Her mouth watered at the delicious-looking lasagna, and the restaurant’s signature fish dish, surrounded by a medley of vegetables. But it was the spaghetti and meatballs she reached for first.
One of life’s simple pleasures… and her favorite comfort food.
“This is Branzino al Forno,” Tank said. “Sea bass.” He forked off a piece and offered it to her.
She opened her mouth, he slid the fork inside. As she accepted the protein, her taste buds rejoiced. “Delicious.”
She scooped some Fettuccine Alfredo onto her plate. “I never eat this, but after today, I’m gonna carb- and fat-load to my heart’s content.”
Tank chuffed out a laugh as he scooped some onto his plate.
They sampled all the entrees, drank down the water.
It was a feast, but not a celebration. They said very little while they ate, and Sydney appreciated the silence.
When they finished, the servers filled the plastic containers with their leftovers, set everything in a large black bag, the word SANTINI embossed in gold.
“These are classy,” she said.
“We went with the bags Luciano had created for his clothing line. Decided to carry the theme across everything associated with our family.”
“You’re an empire,” she said.
“We’re something, all right,” he replied, his sarcastic tone snagging her ear.
The head waitstaff returned. “I’m the last, and I’m heading out. I’ll lock up.”
Tank pushed out of the booth, extended his hand. “You did a great job tonight. Let the staff who worked the event know I’ll cover the tips they didn’t get.”
The waiter thanked him and left.
“I want to make sure we’re alone.” On his way to the kitchen, Tank called out to her, “and confirmed we’re locked in.”
Minutes later, he returned with two lattes. “We’re alone, the front door is locked.”
She sipped the hot drink and sighed. “Perfetto.”
He lifted her hand, kissed her fingers. “Like you.”
When finished, they headed toward the back door. Before they exited, she pulled her SIG. At the SUV, he set the bag of food on the front passenger floor.
She groaned. “You’re not making me ride in the back, are you?”
He opened the door. On a glare, she got in, and he shut the door.
When he got behind the wheel, she said, “If we blow sky high, I’m grateful for every moment we’ve had together.”
“It’s not our time. Not today.” He started the engine.
She released the breath she’d been holding.
They headed out, but he didn’t drive west toward the Black Site. Instead, he headed in the opposite direction.
“Why aren’t we going to Creepy Secret Zone?” she asked.
“We’re going to my condo,” he replied.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Ten minutes later, he drove down the ramp toward the underground garage. The gate lifted and he parked in his reserved spot.
In the elevator, he pulled her close. “You’re not just ALPHA’s heroine, you’re mine too.”
She melted from his words and pressed herself against his chest. “I’m just doing my job.”
The elevator doors opened, he ushered her down the hall and into his condo.
“This is nice,” she said.
He brought her to the picture window in the living room. “I like the view of DC. It’s a good-looking town filled with power-hungry politicos. Some good, others not. Even so, it’s home.” He paused. “You took care of all of us today. I want to take care of you tonight.”
He clasped her hand, led her down the hall to his bedroom. It was big enough to hold a king bed, a dresser, two small night tables, and a black and white checkered chair in the corner.
“It’s somewhere to live,” he said as he brought her into his bathroom, “but it’s not home.”
“What would make it home?” she asked as he started the shower.
“You,” he replied.
Her heart blossomed, and she pushed onto her toes to kiss him.
They showered together. After she sudsed up, she lathered her hair. And that’s when he stepped in, massaging her head with his strong and nimble fingers.
“Wow, that feels amazing,” she said as she ran her hands down his muscular pecs and eight-pack abs.
When he finished, her head tingled with energy. As she rinsed out the soap, he washed his own hair.
They toweled off, he plugged in his hair dryer, handed it to her. Then, he grabbed a bottle of lotion and left the room.
After drying her hair, she went in search of her man, but she didn’t have to go far. A naked and very relaxed Tank sat propped against the headboard, bathed in a soft glow from the table lamps. He’d pulled his wet hair into a man-bun, and she soaked up his handsome face.
She pointed to the empty space next to him. “Is that spot taken?”
He bent his knees. “Sit between my legs.”
She crawled in, leaned back against his chest, and he enveloped her in his massive arms. “The spot next to me is taken,” he murmured into her ear. “I’ve fallen crazy in love with the most amazing woman. That place is hers, if she wants it.”
She turned to face him and stared into his dark eyes. “She would be a fool not to want to take that spot. I know I would, if it was offered to me.”
“What we do isn’t something most people can handle… and they shouldn’t. It’s dark and it’s dangerous.”
Then, he tipped her chin toward him and he kissed her. Once, twice, and a third where he deepened their embrace.” She fully expected more, but he slowed down the kiss, dropped a soft one on her lips.
“We had a fake proposal,” he said. “Here’s a real one. Sydney Annalise Austin, you are the love of my life. If you marry me, I will show you every day how much I love you. Every. Single. Day.” He smiled. “I don’t have a ring, but my proposal is sincere.”
She felt like she could fly, her happiness uncontainable.
“You are my person, and I’m yours,” he continued. “Please say yes. Will you marry me?”
Joy filled her as she pressed her lips to his and kissed him. “I am your person, and you’re mine. Yes, yes, hell yes, I’ll marry you.”
They sealed their engagement with a forever kiss.
“Tell the team or keep it to ourselves?” he asked.
“We gotta wait,” she said.
“I agree.”
He lifted her hand, kissed her finger. “They’ll know when I put a rock right here.”
She smiled. “I like that.”
“Okay, baby, time for your massage.”
She glanced down at his erection. “Your not-so-little buddy has something else in mind.”
“My buddy didn’t take out three terrorists tonight, so he’s gonna have to stand down.”
“He’s standing alright,” she said with a laugh.
There was something magical about being with him. Something so special that her heart felt complete.
“Turn around,” he said. “I’ll start with your shoulders.”
He placed a pillow between them, and she leaned back. Strong hands stripped away the tension as she tried releasing the day’s events.
But the kills stayed with her. They clung like a virus until the next one… and the one after that.
“You’re super tight,” he said. “Talk to me.”
“I’m always like this after a mission. My professional self is a total baddie. But the ten-year-old in me is still traumatized by the death of Bree and her dad. I still see their bloody bodies. Her terrified expression haunts my dreams.”
He continued rubbing, staying quiet for a long moment.
When he broke the silence, he said, “Life is a gift from God. That’s what Elsa would say.
My grandfather told me about his eighty-twenty rule.
Eighty-percent of humans are good. They might tell white lies, they might fudge the truth to make themselves appear smarter or more important, but they’re basically good.
My grandfather told me it’s like opening a carton of eggs.
If one is damaged, we focus on that one, rather than the eleven good ones.
He said twenty-percent of people are evil.
He said that Satan’s helpers are an army of many. ”
That’s intense.
“How old were you when he told you that?”
He continued massaging her shoulders, and she released a sigh. “There you go. My girl is starting to relax.” After a second, he said, “I was thirteen. He sat me down and talked to me after Greystone ran away. I was pretty wrecked. We all were.”
“Did your grandfather think Greystone was one of the eighty or the twenty?”
“He never said,” Tank replied. “He was angry Greystone left, but I saw him crying once. I think beneath that anger was great sadness. He’d be proud of what Greystone and all my brothers have accomplished.”
“He’d be proud of you too, you know.”
“Maybe,” Tank said. “Okay, angel, roll onto your stomach so I can massage your back.”
She moved beside him, slid her arms beneath the pillow, and peered up at him. “I’m getting spoiled so good.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned down and dropped several worshipful kisses on her shoulder. “I will always put you first.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I want to be there for you and always take care of my man.”
He pumped lotion into his hand, started rubbing her back. “You already are, Sydney.”
She melted as he massaged away her aches. When he finished, she rolled toward him. “I love your big man hands, especially when they’re on me.”
“I want to do something for you,” he said. “Something that only I can do.”
She pushed onto her elbow. “What?”
“I want to give you a happy ending.”
She smiled at him. “What about yours?”
“You’re my happy ending.”
“That’s very romantic, Theodore Santini, but you need to get inside me.”
He smiled as he planked over her. “Loving you is something I will never say no to.”
They sealed their engagement in a blanket of love. He moved over her, filling her with pleasure as she wrapped herself around him and surrendered to everything Tank.
“It’s all for you, baby,” he said.
For those glorious minutes, she was happy. Deliriously happy.
But happiness is fleeting, like the sunshine. It’s here just long enough to warm us, then it’s gone. If we’re lucky, we can see the sun rise the next day. And the next after that.
Sydney had taken out four of the eleven terrorists. If Haqazzii and his four remaining lieutenants were gunning for anyone, it was her.
Bring it on motherfuckers. Bring it on.