Chapter 10 #2
Rarely did people surprise her. She was just about as jaded as life could make her. She steeled her expression, but inside, she was falling apart.
He braced his forearms on his thighs. The thick sinew strained as he curled his fingers into fists. The ropes of muscle flexed around the veins snaking up each arm.
When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “I’ll go first.”
Her pulse skipped.
He looked her straight in the eyes. “My dad was a mafia informant.”
Goose bumps skipped up her arms, working up her nape and prickling her scalp.
“We were put into WitSec when I was a kid. Moved around, names changed. Our lives erased.” A new tendon popped up in his jaw, bunching and releasing, bunching and releasing. “We ended up in Chicago to keep him alive. Keep us all alive.”
She held her breath, not daring to interrupt, her mind moving at the speed of light.
“Back when I went into the program, details slipped through the cracks. I didn’t have a birth certificate with my new name. Which meant—”
“You couldn’t get a driver’s license. Or a passport. Or go to college.”
His stare burned hotter into hers, whether from empathy or the anger stirring inside him, she wasn’t sure. “I see we had a similar experience.”
She stared back, not speaking. This could still be a trap, a way to get her to talk.
He tapped his fist lightly on his thigh. “The FBI was my only option.” He fixed his stare on her. “Project Lazarus meant any person without a real identity had a place with the FBI.”
She gave a faint nod, reeling from what he was saying.
“It was that or disappear for good. But I told you the suits didn’t fit, and I wasn’t kidding. I was born for the military, and everyone at Quantico knew it. They helped me get into the Navy. I’m a protector, not an agent.”
The sincerity in those words sent a thrill to her core and let her believe him.
Her throat went dry, and some wall inside her broke.
For her entire life, she’d believed she was alone—the only person who didn’t technically exist. A lost, misplaced, useless girl nobody gave a damn about. Hearing his story felt like looking into a mirror she hadn’t known was right in front of her.
Still, the instinct to shield herself screamed at her to shut this down.
“That doesn’t mean we have the same past.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
Silence stretched between them, thick but no longer spiked with hostility.
“You don’t get to ask me for my story.”
“You have the right to keep it to yourself,” he agreed.
The way he didn’t push for more chiseled a crack in the dam holding back the flood of her life.
She braced her spine against the wall to hold herself upright. “I told you we ended up in Virginia.”
When he held on to her gaze, refusing to look away, she realized he was honoring her with his full attention.
“My dad was in a motorcycle club. Not the glamorous kind people daydream about.” Her mouth curved in bitterness.
“He got caught selling guns to an undercover. When they saw they could use him to strike a deal, he took the out and tattled on his brothers. He tried to save himself. That same night, my mom took me and left, knowing that they’d turn on us next.
Kill us both. We didn’t get far before the agents found us.
That’s how we landed in WitSec. But worse… they threw my father in with us.
“Hundreds of screaming matches followed, escalating every time. Until one day…my father never came home. We never knew what happened to him, but we think he just took off.” She paused, breath catching without warning.
She spent a moment gathering herself, arms pulling tighter around her middle.
“But it wasn’t over—we had to remain in the program.
My mom was sick of living on the tiny checks from the government, so she managed to get a job working nights as a nurse.
Always nights. About that time, I met Smith. He kept me safe.”
Since the first time Sinner touched her, she had dialed into him, so when he froze, she felt it.
“He used to sit outside my window on the patio, watching over me while my mom was away. He never came inside. Never crossed a line. He just kept watch to make sure nothing happened to me.”
Sinner’s stare fixed on hers.
“Smith taught me how to fight and defend myself against the bullies at school. Against men who wanted…more than they were entitled to. Smith saved me.”
A quiet exhale left Sinner’s chest, but he didn’t speak for so long that the waiting was starting to make her lose her mind.
Finally, he said, “No wonder you don’t know how to cry.”
Her breath caught. She hated that it did.
Then her nose stung and her eyes smarted.
He held her gaze. “You never had control of your life, and I know you feel out of control right now.”
Her lips parted, but he wasn’t finished.
“Every door was chosen for you. Every move dictated by survival…then by the FBI.” His voice pitched lower, like a soothing caress that spread liquid heat over her skin at the same time. “But you aren’t stuck anymore, Opal. You don’t have to live inside their limits.”
Her chest ached. The words sliced into her like a blade and a balm all at once.
She looked away, blinking hard. “The only bright light I ever had…was Smith.” She hesitated before jerking her gaze back to his. “Until…until you.”
The admission hung between them, as fragile as a sliver of moon in the sky.
Neither of them moved.
At that moment, Opal knew the line had already been crossed.