Chapter 20 Sydney
Sydney
Sydney wouldn’t cry. There was no reason to. So he shot her down. It wasn’t the first time she’d been rejected by a guy. He wasn’t interested in showing her how to be a killer. Fine. She’d figured it out on her own.
She’d always have the memory of her initial experience. With him. For that, she should be grateful. Some people never got the chance to experience their true calling. It was a gift.
No tears.
She was tougher than that. Being abandoned wasn’t new to her. She’d survive. Thrive. She’d done it before and would do it again.
After she’d cleared the table and packed the leftovers into Tupperware, she stacked them into a plastic bag for Fink to take with him and exited the kitchen. The distinct sound of a phone vibrating caught her attention.
Glancing toward the table, she noted it wasn’t hers.
Cautiously, she approached the hallway as Fink exited the bathroom.
Their eyes met, and the cell continued to buzz.
Neither of them moved to pick it up.
“You should get that,” she suggested.
That was unless he wanted her to answer it. Highly unlikely, but the urge to do it had her fingers tingling.
His gaze left hers, but he didn’t take a step away.
“Or I could?” she offered.
He shook his head.
That did it. He crossed the hall and entered her bedroom. As he swiped it off the dresser, she closed the door behind them.
Turning, he put the phone to his ear and stared at her.
“Yeah,” he answered as he flicked his wrist for her to get out.
Standing straighter, she lifted her chin and filled her lungs with resolve.
She wasn’t going anywhere. While he may not want to invite her into his world, she was already there, and she wasn’t leaving.
“Go,” he mouthed.
She shook her head.
“Yeah,” he repeated into the phone.
Whomever he spoke to kept their voice low. She couldn’t make out what he said.
Fink turned away from her and plugged one of his ears.
“When?” he asked as he came farther into the room.
She followed.
“I can do it.”
Do what? She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as excitement surged through her. Was this a call about a job? Had he been hired to take someone else out?
Fighting the urge to hop and clap her hands while squealing like a schoolgirl, she screwed her features into a stoic expression. This was happening. They were about to do it again. Another person would die at their hands.
Why didn’t she feel bad about that?
Images of blood spurting out of Mitchell’s neck after she’d plunged the letter opener into it flashed through her mind. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy heated at the memory of what ensued shortly after.
Would they do all of that again?
She’d summoned every ounce of restraint she possessed not to jump his bones while he had lain beside her the past two nights. They’d cuddled, and he’d kissed the crown of her head, but they hadn’t gotten intimate.
There sure as shit wasn’t a lack of desire.
She’d felt his hardness against the crack of her ass.
Had he been waiting for her? She’d decided that if he didn’t do it tonight, she would put the moves on him. Well, that was before he announced he was leaving.
At least she thought that was what was going on. With Fink, she couldn’t be too sure. He tested her understanding of men and of people in general. Though her gut told her he intended to run for the hills. She wouldn’t let him get away so easily.
Fink flipped the cell closed but kept his back to her.
Rocking back and forth from the balls of her feet to her heels, she wiggled her arms at her sides. Sydney was on the edge of her proverbial seat. With a smile stretching from ear to ear, she eagerly awaited his comments on the call.
While she hadn’t heard what was said, she knew in her bones he’d gotten another assignment. She was ready.
This was their time to shine. A new dynamic duo had been born. Fink only had to accept it.
Bing-bong.
What?
Fink turned along with her as though they could see the front door through the wall.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
Was he? Did he call a cab or something? When had he had the opportunity? And why? He had a truck outside.
Oh no. Her heart sank. The police. Had they come back?
Scurrying onto the bed, she crawled toward the window. After she pushed the curtains aside, she bent the blinds and peered out into the parking lot.
“No one’s there,” she reported.
Did kids still do ding-dong ditch? She wasn’t sure many kids were in her apartment complex. Racking her brain, she tried to recall if any of her neighbors were teenagers.
“Do you think—” She paused her words because he was out of the room before she could finish her sentence.
Where did he go?
“Fink?” she called as she scrambled off the bed and trotted out to the living room.
Halting at the edge of the couch, she waited for him to say something.
Using his foot to close the door behind him, Fink held a nondescript box in his hand.
Like a cat, her curiosity got the best of her as her gaze stalked him across the room. He carried the delivery to the high-top table.
“What is it?” she asked.
There was no way he’d know. He hadn’t opened it yet. Then again, maybe his call told him what to expect.
“Is it someone’s head?”
He peered at her. “What?”
“I have no idea. Maybe Mitchell’s pregnant wife is mad and figured out what we did.” She shrugged. “Or one of his girlfriends is pissed she was left out of the will.” She waggled her finger at him as her mind fired off in ten different unlikely scenarios.
“Whose head would it be?” he asked.
Sydney ran her finger along her chin, considering the options. “I don’t know. But in movies, there’s always a body part in the mysterious box.”
Shaking his head, he chuckled. From his pocket, he produced a chain filled with keys and used it to slice through the tape.
Eagerly, she slid into a seat, resting her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers. He flipped open the top flap. Practically vibrating on the chair, she leaned over the table, trying to get a view of what was inside.