Chapter 7
SEVEN
Where the hell was she?
Sinner stood in the middle of the hotel room with his phone in one hand and a handful of small tracking devices in the other, his jaw set hard enough to ache. He’d already slipped one into the side pocket of her duffel bag and superglued a second to the sole of her boot.
She was late. Dammit. Why hadn’t he thought to put a tracker on her before she walked straight into a drug deal?
He’d texted her a dozen times since her midday message about “getting some” after work, but she hadn’t read a single one. She must have switched off her phone.
Now Sinner could see why Con had concerns about Opal being a team player. Partners needed to be in contact at all times. Their lives depended on it.
He gripped the third tracking device in his fist so hard it felt like it might crack under the force. In two strides, he reached the closet and stuffed the tracker deep in the pocket of another pair of trousers she’d hung there for the next day.
If she lived that long.
He was checking his phone so often and pacing so much that anyone who saw him would think he was tweaking.
When he noticed the time, he gritted his teeth. She wasn’t just a few minutes late—she was late enough that his instincts were bellowing.
In quick strides, he crossed the room and peered through the blinds at the parking lot.
Just then, the door burst open.
Opal rushed in, eyes bright. She didn’t look at him but shut the door hard enough to rattle the cheap frame. She twisted the lock, crossed the room and tossed a baggie onto the bed like it offended her.
Pills scattered across the stiff bedspread.
“Got them.” Her voice was clipped and a little breathless.
Relief slammed into Sinner like a fist to the gut, immediately followed by an anger so potent it made his hands clench.
He took a step toward her and stilled when he caught sight of her face.
Any relief he felt at her walking through that door curdled in his gut.
He looked at her—really looked.
Her blouse was missing a button. Two more were torn open. An ugly scrape marked her cheekbone, already swollen and pink against her pale, freckled skin.
Her spine was rigid in a way he’d seen before.
Sinner took a step toward her before he could stop himself. “Opal—”
“I’m fine.” The words came out fast but with a flat, practiced tone. Her gaze dropped to the trackers scattered on the bed. Her eyes flashed. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re tracking me?”
“I didn’t know where you were.” His tone was as rough as whatever had grazed her face.
A beat throbbed between them, loaded with questions neither wanted to answer.
Opal narrowed her eyes. “You can’t just—”
“I’m protecting my partner. And for the record, it’s common practice in the field. You don’t like it, you can yell at me later.”
She shook her head. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get on the call with Con.”
Sinner straightened as he took in her appearance again. It wasn’t just the missing button or wrinkled blouse or mark on her cheek.
He saw the way her body pulled tight like she was bracing for another hit.
“Opal.”
She whipped out her phone. “I get on the call. I always show up on time. This is what I do, dammit.”
He searched her face for a beat.
She was strong and stubborn…and not okay.
But she was here, and that was a start.
Holding her gaze, he nodded once. “Fine. But we are a team. And we need to establish some code for times like this. If you get in trouble, what are you going to tell me?”
“Fuck off.”
Despite the worry she’d caused him, her sassy comeback made his lips twitch.
“No. You’re going to say, ‘Pork chops for dinner.’”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“And the code for when we’re nearing the finish line and the trap is being set?”
“You choose.”
He cast around for a quick answer. “What about…‘It’s a done deal’? It sounds like it could be anything.”
“Good. Pork chops and deals. Now we can get on that call.”
She dialed while he hovered near her, holding back from stroking a fingertip beneath the scrape on her cheekbone. She would never accept his comfort in this state of mind, even though he wanted to carry her to bed and tuck her in with a mug of warm cocoa.
Even if he wanted to hold her tight and show her that while everyone else in her life disappeared, he would stay to the very end.
Con’s voice projected over the speaker. As if the sound triggered a reaction in Opal, all of her strength flowed out of her and she sank to the bed.
Sinner sat close to her but not touching.
She set the phone between them on the bed and folded her hands in her lap, eyes fixed forward on a cheap framed print of two blue blobs. They kept the speaker on low so it couldn’t be picked up through the thin walls, and Sinner gave Opal the lead.
She started with the hard, cold facts. The office, the dealer she approached on her lunch break, the text message that came after work with an address.
Then her voice wavered as she debriefed about the alley. Frustration echoed in her low tone, and the usual monotone was replaced by a tremor.
“Take it slow, Opal. You got to the alley and the guy was waiting for you.” Con’s matter-of-fact approach had calmed many a person, but Opal only grew more agitated.
She jerked a hand upward, and it floated there for a moment as if she didn’t know what to do with it. Finally, she raked her fingers through her black hair. “I asked him if I could get a week’s worth of pills.”
“Good.”
Her words tumbled out faster. “He told me I could pay with something other than money. And that I probably wasn’t getting any sex from my husband if he took that many pills.”
Sinner’s eyes slipped shut. Goddammit. This was exactly the thing that worried him. His weakness—his cover—had made her a target.
He stared at the blue blobs but saw red.
She tangled her fingers until her knuckles whitened, but in true Opal fashion, immediately stretched her delicate fingers on her thighs as though she were calm.
“It was stupid of me. I should’ve disengaged sooner.
” Frustration dripped from her words. “I won’t be able to use him again.
Word will spread. No one will do drug deals with me.
Not even Cipher will be interested in me when he realizes I can’t even close a drug deal without smashing my dealer’s face in! ”
Jesus Christ. She’d done that?
“Opal.” Sinner put a hand on her arm but she tore it away.
Her fingers trembled when she touched a dark spot on the thigh of her pants. A splatter of wetness. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Where is this water coming from? What’s dripping?” She jerked her head up to meet his gaze.
His gut squeezed in reaction to the beautiful wreck she was right now.
She shook her head hard enough to send her dark hair flying. “No. No way. I-I haven’t cried since I lost my m-mom.”
Sinner’s chest cracked wide open at the sight of tears sliding down her cheeks, silent and unstoppable. He’d seen men bleed out without making a sound, seen women hold themselves together under pressure that would’ve crushed anyone else. But this…unraveling…hurt in a way he never anticipated.
“That’s enough,” he grated out. “Con, I’ll call you back.” He cut the call without asking permission and dropped to his knee in front of Opal.
“Listen—”
She leaped to her feet, eyes darting to the door. She wasn’t just spiraling, she was ready to run. Whether she was going to run from this op or into danger, he didn’t know.
He stepped in front of her before she could flee. “Ten,” he said quietly.
She froze. “What?”
“Ten steps from here to the door.”
Her lips parted. Her swollen eyes held his and a red flush mottled across her tear-streaked face. “Maybe for you. Twelve for me.” Her voice was thick, but his words quelled her response to run.
“What did you do to the dealer, Opal?”
She searched his eyes, her own black pools of fury. “I smashed his face into the brick wall.”
He stared at her.
“After I kneed him in the balls.”
She knew how to fight. Of course she did. But they didn’t teach her that in Quantico. That place was all rules and procedures with just enough personal protection training to get by.
He took a slow step closer. “I know you think you failed.”
She backed up half a step. “Just find another fake spouse.”
“I don’t want another fake spouse. I want the best fake spouse.”
Conflicting emotions warred over her face for just a split second before she slammed them behind the blank mask again.
“I want the best, Opal. And the best is you.”
Her breath hitched.
“This is too important to walk away from. We need to find Cipher.”
The tiny crinkle between her brows that never seemed to go away deepened. “I shouldn’t have reacted like I did.”
He closed the distance between them. “You protected yourself, and I’m damn proud to call you my partner.”
The words landed between them, heavier than he’d intended. Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out.
She just stood there, close enough that he could see her pulse jumping in her throat, could feel the heat radiating off her skin.
Close enough to cross a line he knew damn well he shouldn’t.
He did it anyway.
Suddenly his mouth was on hers—not gentle, not asking.
As he drew her against his chest, he knew one thing with brutal clarity.
Whatever lines they just crossed, protecting her was no longer part of the mission.
It was personal.
* * * * *
Sinner’s mouth wasn’t tender. It wasn’t careful.
He kissed her until she forgot about right and wrong. One hand fisted the fabric at her back as the other cupped her jaw with a tenderness that made her ache while he plundered her.
He sank his tongue deep into her mouth before pulling back to nip and nibble her lips and making her head spin as he flicked his tongue across hers with maddening little swipes.