Chapter 22 Sydney
Sydney
Not that Sydney had any experience with any of this, but homework wasn’t what she expected the life of a contract killer would entail.
While Fink hadn’t told her that was his job, she figured it out.
Considering he wasn’t a vigilante, and this package came with a metric fuck ton of personal data about some guy named Joseph Burke, she put two and two together.
Fink had been hired to whack this guy, and he agreed to let her come along for the ride.
How cool was that?
If she had had any hesitation about going down this path with him, it was too late now. There was no turning back. She was in it to win it.
Which was why the two of them sat side by side on her couch under fluffy throw blankets, reading boring paper after paper. This guy was a complete dud. What could he have possibly done to warrant a contract on his head?
Skimming the guy’s financial data, her eyes crossed. None of it made sense to her. With more patience than she deserved, Fink explained meticulously what each piece of information meant and how it related to their target.
On one hand, she didn’t give a flying fuck. She would much rather he had pointed her in a direction and set her free, but she understood this was how she could keep herself from getting caught.
If she wanted to be like him, she’d have to follow what he said and did. That was how this worked. The whole point of the arrangement was for her to follow his directions. She had to buckle down and focus on the boring.
Fink explained that by examining these things, they could establish a pattern. They could figure out how Joey moved through the world and identify the best time and method to strike.
Ideally, they wanted the fewest questions to be asked after they did their business.
Though not every case offered that opportunity.
Fink explained that with Mitchell, the instructions were to make it as brutal as possible.
That meant the motive behind his murder was personal, in Sydney’s novice opinion.
Sydney assumed his wife had hired Fink, but she kept that bit of information to herself. He didn’t care about who sent him on these missions. All that mattered was that the check cleared. She should adopt that mentality. No need to worry about the who or the why.
With this Joseph Burke, who went by Joey—like an eight-year-old, it seemed—whoever paid to have him killed wanted to send a message. Since he wasn’t married, she couldn’t blame the wife.
The possibilities were endless with that goal. How could they make it entertaining and meaningful? Scenarios filled her brain, each more unrealistic than the next. Though if they could pull any of them off, this killing could be epic.
“Are you paying attention?” Fink barked, breaking into her deliciously dark fantasies filled with blood and gore.
“Yes,” she lied as her cheeks heated with a blush.
He blinked slowly and glared at her. “I know this part isn’t as flashy and glamorous as the moment, but think of this as foreplay.”
She cocked her head to the side and quirked a brow. That was an interesting concept. Though it escaped her how mind-numbing could somehow equate to anticipation.
“We need to work up to the grand finale,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair.
Shifting on the couch so he faced her, Fink grinned and scooted closer.
Ooh! Where was this going?
“The way I want to study every curve of your body and discover your most sensitive spots,” he continued.
Now they were talking.
Finally!
Days had passed since they doinked on the couch in Mitchell’s office. She thought he wasn’t into her and she’d just been in the right place at the fortunate time.
“I don’t want to miss a single detail,” he said before pressing a soft and all-too-brief kiss to her lips. “One mistake, and we may not achieve our goal.”
Sydney dropped the papers. She liked where this was going.
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head and reached for the documents she had discarded. “Concentrate.”
He was out of his mind. Focus? Now? How was she supposed to do that with him all sultry and flirty? She’d waited too long for another chance to jump his bones. How dare he play these games.
Placing the papers back in her hand, he leaned in. The heat of his breath tickled the skin of her neck, causing a flush to warm her body. Of all the opportunities he had before to get intimate, he chose this one? When she was supposed to be paying attention to boring things?
How evil and cruel.
Her stomach fluttered with excitement the moment his lips pressed against her skin near her jugular. Her lids closed, and he sucked on her bottom lip. She liked this teasing side of him.
“Read,” he whispered against her ear.
“What?”
“Tell me,” he said before his tongue ran along the outer shell of her ear.
A shiver ran through her, but she forced her eyes open.
Evil. Evil man.
“Where does he get breakfast every morning?”
What? Breakfast? What the hell was Fink talking about? Who cared where this guy ate?
“What does he order?”
Determined, she skimmed the document, trying to locate the name of a restaurant. Anything that looked remotely like a diner or a café or something. Was this a trick? Did Joey even eat breakfast in the morning? For all she knew, he was a protein bar and Muscle Milk kind of guy.
Then again, Sydney had seen a photo of him. While she wasn’t the fittest person on the planet, she didn’t have nearly as big of a gut as Joey.
There!
Nearly every day, around six fifteen in the morning, this guy went to the same place for bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant.
“Sue Ellen’s Tea House,” she cried out in victory.
“Good girl,” Fink purred as his hand slid up her thigh. Tiny fireworks popped along her skin, growing in intensity the closer he got to her sex. Parting her legs, she invited him to continue his exploration.
His lips found her neck again, and she let her head fall back. Maybe she shouldn’t knock studying. This was insanely better now.
He flicked his tongue along her jugular as his fingers dipped into the waistband of her leggings. Lifting her ass off the cushion, she allowed him to tug them down her legs until they tangled at her ankles.
“What about lunch?” His breathy words danced against her ear.
Dammit. She couldn’t think about Joey right now. Not when Fink’s hand rested on her moist mound.
“Don’t make me stop,” he implored. “I’ve been fighting this for days.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she hissed.
“You’re a devilish temptation that I want to enjoy,” he explained. “But we have work to do, and you begged me. I’m teaching you the only way I know how.”
Sent straight from hell. Fink was a demon here to corrupt Sydney, and she was all about it.
When he traced his fingers along her panty-clad pussy, she whimpered. This wasn’t fair.
Swallowing hard, she brought the bank statements into focus. “Duke’s,” she declared.
“Good girl.” Fink pushed her panties aside and dipped a finger into her wetness.
She gasped and arched her back. Her fingers tightened, crinkling the papers in her hand.
“What time?” he asked as his digit flicked against her clit.
A jolt shot through her, and her breath hitched. He found a way to make plotting murder so erotic. “Eleven-ish.” Her voice shook while he circled the nubbin of nerves.
“What should we do with that information?” he asked as he pulled the blanket away with his free hand.
“I don’t have a clue,” she cried. Her brain wasn’t working. She hadn’t done this before. How was she supposed to know what to do? “Teach me.”
Cool air washed over her heated skin, and her nipples peaked, poking through the thin fabric of her tank top. Sydney’s mind was mush. He had to stop questioning her.
Panting wildly, she panicked the moment he removed his hand.
“Wait,” she whimpered.
Wearing a sinister grin, he pushed the ottoman farther away.
What did he have planned?
Slipping from the couch, Fink nestled down on his knees before her. Holding her gaze with an intense feral stare, he ripped the tangle of leggings from her ankles and tossed them over his head.
Covering her mouth, she giggled at the gesture. It was supposed to be hot, and it was, but she was wound so tightly, the only release she could muster was laughter.
“We should follow him,” Fink explained.
The heat of his palms on her bare thighs brought her to the moment as he wrenched them apart. Dark desire filled his eyes. It matched the need burning within her. Never had she longed for a man the way she did Fink.
“Learn his patterns and identify his weakest moments so we can figure out the best time to strike,” he said. “When will people not notice he’s missing?”
With her heart thundering, she nodded. What he said made sense. Though to be fair, he could convince her of anything right now. She’d jump off a cliff if he told her to.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as he slid his index finger into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her legs.
“Fuck you or kill Joey?” she asked.
As he brought her underwear to his nose, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A groan escaped him. “Both.”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” she asserted.
He nodded as he dropped her undies.
“What do you want right now?” he asked as though he didn’t know the answer.
“You.” She didn’t hesitate.
“What about me?”
“Everything.”
“Be specific.”
“I want you to do whatever you want with my body, my soul, my life.”
A throaty chuckle escaped him. “You make such a tempting offer.”
She swallowed hard as he focused all his attention on her pussy. His gaze was fixed on it. Using his fingers, he teased her lips before splaying them wide.
Tremors shook her when he pressed his thumb against her clit in gentle circles. “I cannot get the image out of my head of fucking you while you were covered in Grant’s blood.”
Three of his fingers plunged into her with such force, she rocked back. Her voice caught in her throat as he pumped them in and out.
“I want to paint you with Burke’s blood,” he said and pressed against the nubbin of nerves with purpose. She imagined their target, the longshoreman, collapsing as blood sprayed from various wounds.
Her body heated, and her pussy quaked with the idea of Fink dipping his fingers into the pools and drawing images on her. Would it be hearts? Was Fink that sweet?
“I want to make you scream as he gasps his final breaths.” The husky tone in his voice stoked the flames of her arousal higher.
“Fuck,” she grunted and writhed on the couch.
“You’re going to come for me as the light dies from his eyes,” Fink hissed, and she exploded.