Chapter 27 Sydney
Sydney
Three Days Later
Sydney had never been to New Jersey. She’d always heard it called the “Armpit of America.” From what she’d seen so far, it was industrialized. How was this the Garden State? She hadn’t seen one tree or bush.
Then again, they hadn’t explored much. They stayed within a mile or two of the massive shipping port, which was like a bustling city. There were train lines, massive stacks of colorful containers, and the largest cranes she’d ever seen. She was in awe of how smoothly this place ran.
After following Joey Burke, the union head challenger—can anyone say motive—for the past twenty-four hours, they had to regroup.
They hadn’t planned for the size of the port.
With all the research they’d done, apparently they hadn’t considered how large one of those cranes was.
Not to mention, neither of them knew how to operate one.
Not to be deterred, they discovered empty containers readily available. Which actually would work to their advantage.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in their motel, Sydney cocked her head to the side while Fink stared at his reflection in the mirror. He’d laid out the face paints, hair dyes, and everything he would use to hide his appearance.
Meticulously, he dipped the wide brush first in the white paint pot and covered his face. He followed the line of his jaw, went under his chin, and around his mouth. He covered the shaved sides of his head to make sure none of his skin showed.
Another brush went into the black paint pot. He raised his head and dragged the darker ink over his neck and down his shoulders and chest. The large clover on his neck disappeared beneath the strokes.
While that dried, he squirted a tube, and blue goop filled his palm. He brought his hands together and spread the gel before running it through his hair. With his focus on his reflection, he slicked his strands back.
His ritual was mesmerizing. With each stroke he added, Fink transformed from the man she’d enjoyed for the past week into the devious clown she’d met a week ago. She’d witnessed nothing more beautiful.
As he left the bathroom, she scooted in after him. Her turn. She had to be quick, though. Standing in front of the mirror, she studied her reflection.
Plain. Generic. A little plump. Sydney was an average woman with medium-brown hair and eyes. There was nothing remarkable about her. Perhaps she didn’t have to get all done up like he did.
But where was the fun in being everyday Sydney? She was on the verge of greatness. Tonight was her chance to explore a part of herself she never knew existed. It called for more flair.
From her own makeup bag, she selected her ruby red lipstick, a bronze eyeshadow palette, black eyeliner, and mascara. Those were her standard items for when she did her face. She wanted something more.
After she smudged her waterline in, she put the pen down.
Different.
From behind her, clad in an identical charcoal suit to the one she’d cleaned, Fink appeared, fiddling with the knot in his thin tie. Their gazes met in the mirror.
Shuffling beside her, he reached for one of the smaller brushes he’d used to create the blue dot on his nose. He studied it for a moment before focusing on her again.
A smile spread across his painted lips and brightened his face.
To anyone else, it was probably creepy. For Sydney? Her heart fluttered.
He took the tube of lipstick from the bag, pulled off the cap, and twisted it until the stick was fully visible. He tapped the tip of the brush against the red hue.
What was he doing?
She licked her bottom lip in anticipation.
Their eyes locked.
Her stomach flipped.
Fink took hold of her chin, then brought the brush to the corner of her mouth. It tickled as he dragged it out over her cheek, looped it around, and then moved back up toward her eye.
His grin widened as he twisted her features right and left. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.
With a nod, he repeated the process on the other side.
After coloring a circle on the tip of her nose, he was done. He put the brush down, placed his hands on either side of her face, careful to avoid his work, and leaned in. She closed her eyes as the butterflies in her belly bounced around.
Instead of making contact with her lips, he gently kissed her forehead tenderly.
She rested her hands on his forearms as he lingered.
The moment wasn’t sexual but oddly intimate.
Somehow, in the past five minutes, they’d become closer.
This man meant more to her than anyone else in her life ever had.
“Ready?” he whispered as he pulled away.
For anything he planned. Whether they killed Burke alone, or everyone else at the port, Sydney was all in. She was never surer of anything in her life.
She nodded.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
There was a hint of concern in his tone, but what was that about? Was he worried that she would back out? Did he think she couldn’t handle the mission? Or was it something else?
“You can stay here,” he suggested. “I can do this one—”
“Absolutely not,” she affirmed.
Nothing in the world could prevent her from joining him. This felt right. Anticipation made her jittery, ready to jump out of her skin. She’d never been more excited.
His smile warmed her soul. Their first kill had been an accident. It wasn’t intentional. This one would be different. Excitement zinged through her veins.
Mitchell’s murder had changed her. Afterward, she could have moved on and forgotten about it.
No one would’ve been the wiser. That course of action probably would’ve been easier, but being a part of his world breathed life into her existence.
There was no turning back now. She had a taste of murder and fell in love.
They’d do Burke.
She had a plan.
They had a plan.
Releasing her face, Fink lowered his head and turned away from her.
She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. It drew his attention back to her. “We’re in this together.”
He dipped his chin in a brief nod.
A playful grin spread across her lips. “Murder buddy.”
With a smile, he repeated, “Murder buddy.”