Chapter 3 #2
Sinner didn’t move, but she had been watching people’s expressions since she was very young. She saw the minute shift in his jaw he tried to hide.
It was the same reaction he’d had after he learned she would be making drug deals while he hobbled around with a sore back.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness,” he ground out.
A prickling sensation swept up her nape and spread along the base of her skull like warm fingers against cool flesh.
Elin fixed her attention on him. “It’s a cover, Sinner. Nobody expects you to act weak.”
He issued a noise in his throat that sent that prickle up Opal’s neck again.
Dante directed their attention to the screen and a photo of the extended-stay hotel where they’d be staying.
She expected a seedy motel where the carpet was permanently damp and the locks didn’t quite catch. But compared to her reality growing up, the place was a palace.
More pictures slid by, showing shots of the neighborhood that could never be as degenerate as the one where Smith taught her to fight.
Still, her mind shot back there…to the single room where she and her parents were forced to stay after her father ratted out all his friends to the feds.
Her father had run with a motorcycle club—hard men with their hands in a lot of criminal activities. Opal remembered all those tough, tattooed guys as her uncles. And the women who rode on the back of their bikes as sweet aunties who fed her candy and pushed her on the swings behind the club.
She barely remembered that night when her mother shoved her in the car and drove far away from the only family she’d ever known.
After that, she only remembered hard times with little food, then the terrible day when the handler who put her and her mom in witness protection threw her father into the motel with them.
At that point, she realized her father hadn’t ratted on his friends because it was the right thing to do. He turned them in to get himself out of trouble.
These thoughts turned to more, of hiding under the bed while they fought, screaming and hurling beer bottles at each other. Shortly after Smith had intervened during one of their biggest fights, her father took off and they never saw him again.
Her mom, a trained nurse, got a job at a nursing home. That meant long nights when Opal was left alone in the seedy motel in a dangerous part of town, counting the hours until her mother got back, learning too early that adults didn’t save you.
They failed you. Or disappeared.
She swallowed hard and watched the photo of the car she would drive flash by. A hysterical laugh threatened at the back of her throat as she imagined what they’d all say if she told them she couldn’t legally get a driver’s license and only had FBI credentials as proof she even existed.
Dante clicked to another photo in the PowerPoint. “This is the office building where you worked.”
“I was missing too much work,” she recited evenly. “I lost my job. We needed better insurance, so I landed a government job.”
Sinner was doing that staring thing again. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him.
Elin nodded. “That’s the piece that will sell it. Not just the allure of being a government worker—the desperation.”
Sinner was supposed to be her weakness. The problem was, she didn’t do weak. She’d been close to two people her whole life—her mother and Smith. She lost both of them. That was enough to learn her lesson. Don’t let anyone in.
They continued to work through the story. The two-floor house where they began their married life then sold and pared their entire life down to one room in the extended stay.
Dante went through some photos of the office she’d be working in. “These smiling people will be your coworkers. What are you going to tell them about your work history?”
The script rolled off her tongue. “I worked at my last job for a long time. Was up for promotion. But I was passed over because of the time I took off for…Mike’s…surgeries. Then I missed even more work and they let me go.”
Sinner made a low sound of disgust with an underlying grit of anger.
The screen flashed with more evidence supporting their case, including payroll stubs and Kelly’s notice of termination.
A map of the streets surrounding the office building popped onto the screen.
Dante pointed. “This neighborhood surrounding your office—nice and safe. But three blocks over, there has been an average of ninety-two drug busts in the last two months. Your position alone is going to pique Cipher’s interest. But we have to get you noticed first.”
“Why doesn’t she just place an ad in the newspaper for terrorists looking for assets?” Sinner muttered, his expression dark.
Elin lifted her brows at him, and he locked his jaw as if biting off more words.
“Tell me how to get noticed,” Opal said.
Con gave her the faintest nod, as if she ever needed big papa’s approval.
Dante went on, “You go out in these streets.” More photos blipped by. “And you get noticed—”
“By drug dealers,” she finished.
Sinner’s hands snapped into fists, knuckles whitening.
“You will be searching for any pain pills you can get your hands on.” Dante ran through more photos of pills. “Percocet. Oxycodone. Hydrocodone. Morphine.”
Sinner’s stare landed on hers and held for a beat too long. But during that beat, she felt the storm inside him gathering strength.
For the first time ever, she looked away first.
Elin shifted in her seat, drawing Opal’s attention. “Remember that you’re broke and struggling to survive. To get money for drugs, you’ll place ads for odd jobs on this website.” A photo of a home page hit the screen. “Do whatever you feel capable of doing to earn money.”
Sinner let out a growl.
Elin gave him a pointed look. “Short of criminal activities, of course.”
Opal pushed out a sigh.
“Does that worry you, Opal?” Con spoke for the first time in a while.
“What I just heard is that, on top of being undercover, I have at least three jobs to his one.” She narrowed her eyes at Sinner.
He leaned in, just the slightest bit, but the action made his biceps strain against his shirt sleeves to the snapping point. “Why are you giving me a dirty look? I didn’t write the script.”
She put more effort into her glare.
He turned his head. “Con, I’d like to report a hostile work environment.”
Elin dipped her head to hide a smile, but Dante didn’t bother stopping his chuckle.
Opal narrowed her eyes even more at Sinner. “I’ll show you hostile.”
He pushed off the table, making the chair creak under his bulk. “What you said isn’t true. I have two jobs. Ghost ops, and construction worker.”
“And you make the pizzas,” Dante piped up.
Sinner waved a hand. “Just made my point. And now,” he shoved to his feet, extending to his full height of over six feet, “I’m gonna go make those pizzas.”
Con’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “Sinclair.”
He paused.
Con looked at Opal. “You’ll perform your tasks. You’ll sell the story. But you don’t leave your partner hanging.”
She met his gaze. “Noted.”
Con nodded once, satisfied. “And Sinclair, you don’t bulldoze.”
Opal watched the exchange, reading between the lines. Con was setting boundaries because he’d already spotted the problem.
Cipher wasn’t their only threat.
Sinner’s was struggling to trust her capabilities. Not only did that piss her off, it could get them both killed.
Straightening her spine, she tipped her jaw up. “I’d like to add one thing.”
Con looked at her. “Go ahead.”
“You only work with the best. Well, guess what? That’s me.”