Chapter 12
TWELVE
Sinner emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam. The extended-stay hotel might not be the best place he’d ever stayed in, but it had plenty of hot water.
After quickly drying off with the flimsy towel, he tossed it over the shower bar and turned to the vanity. He reached for his toothbrush and paused at seeing Opal’s resting next to his.
He stopped a faint noise in his throat. His chest shouldn’t feel so damn raw at the sight of her toothbrush, but whatever had connected between them the night before hadn’t stopped at his body.
Sinner knew lust. He’d experienced it often enough in his life to recognize it easily.
What lingered now was warm, like a thick blanket covering his senses.
And it was much more dangerous than lust ever was.
The sensation followed him through his morning routine. After dressing, he paced to the window to peek through the blinds. Even though he knew Opal’s car wasn’t parked out there, he looked for it anyway.
Since it was Saturday, she wasn’t working at the government office. But early this morning, she’d received a notification that she had a dog walking job.
She’d issued the cutest little groan of despair and glared at the scab on her knee before hurrying to get ready. When she emerged from the fastest shower he’d ever seen a woman take, she muttered about going to walk monster dogs when she should really be scoring drugs.
A crooked grin formed on his lips at the absurdity of their situation. But while Opal did her part, he had a role to play too.
He stepped out onto the narrow balcony and leaned against the rail, letting his posture sag just enough to sell the story. The street below was active with foot traffic and a delivery truck idling at the curb.
He felt the presence of a person on the neighboring balcony and glanced over.
A man with a cigarette in his mouth stared at Sinner from a cloud of smoke.
Sinner wanted to ask the guy to quit interrupting their sex by pounding on the wall between rooms. Instead, he pulled out a pill bottle from his pocket, shook one loose and dry-swallowed.
The man looked away almost immediately.
Sinner lingered on the balcony another beat before he went back inside.
He grabbed his phone and checked the tracker for Opal’s location. Her path zigzagged through the map, looping in a way that made his brow crease. Then the line curved again, slower this time.
He watched as the lines formed a shape.
A…heart.
His chest tightened.
It couldn’t be intentional. He doubted she’d meant to do it. The dog was just dragging her through the park.
That didn’t stop the happiness spreading through him, or the thought that maybe, just maybe…she was feeling it too.
First, he placed a call to Dante. His brother-in-arms answered on the first ring. “My man. I was about to call you.”
He stilled. “What’s going on?”
“Con wants to share his concerns.”
“About?”
“Opal.”
“What about her?” His chest grew tight.
“He’s been in touch with her handler. There’s intel that Cipher’s making his move—soon. They’re questioning if she’s right for this op. After the incident with the drug dealer—”
“She’s right,” he grated out through his locked jaw. “There’s no one better and they all know it. So what’s this really about?”
A beat of silence followed, and Sinner let out a growl.
“Is it the whole ‘she’s not a team player’ bullshit?
’ Because it’s just that—bullshit. She’s dialed down, locked in every single day.
She’s busting her ass to get noticed by Cipher and has my back in every corner. Besides, I can handle myself.”
Another pause flooded the line with dead air. Finally, Dante spoke. “Noted. I’ll relay it to Con. Let’s get to the reason you called.”
It took him a moment to recover from their conversation. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pulled in a breath.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Find out who the guy in the room next to ours is. And get rid of him.”
“Nosy neighbor?”
“You could say that.” It wasn’t just overhearing the sex part that bothered Sinner—he didn’t trust the guy not to listen to other things…like conversations.
The tap of Dante’s fingers on the keyboard filled the air for a minute. Finally, Dante chuckled. “You’re in luck. He’s wanted for arrest. Aaand,” he drawled, “I just tipped the police. They’re on their way. What a shame.”
He snorted. “I appreciate your help.”
“I got your six.” Dante ended the call, but his words echoed in Sinner’s ears for a moment longer.
He stared down at the screen, trying to get his head in the game before he made the call he’d been considering all day.
The number wasn’t saved in his phone—it didn’t need to be. It was stored in his memory.
The line clicked, and a familiar voice filled his ear, accent thick and his tone as dry as ever. “Leo here.”
“Uncle Leo.”
Silence met his words.
After a loaded beat, Leo spoke. “Well, this is a surprise.”
Despite his statement, his “uncle” did not sound at all surprised to hear Sinner calling from beyond the grave.
“You attended my funeral.”
Leo’s voice turned gritty. “I did. Lovely service. Your mother framed the flag.”
Sinner’s throat clogged with emotion. Bowing his head, he battled with the decision he’d made to join Blackout—and therefore break his mother’s heart by dying.
He twisted his lips, holding back any sound.
While this conversation so far was painful as hell, it was all the confirmation Sinner needed that he was right about the matter. “I know you’re not really my uncle. You’re my handler.”
Leo didn’t hesitate. “What gave it away?”
Sinner could almost see the man he called uncle—thinner, grayer, but always strong in body and mind. He could smell the pizza baking in Leo’s shop. Hear the faint chatter of customers in the background.
He dragged in a deep breath. When he spoke, he didn’t answer Leo’s question. “I wonder if you know a guy. Goes by Lazarus.”
“We don’t talk about Lazarus,” he responded at once.
Sinner closed his eyes briefly. The words were another concrete block on the wall of secrets built around his life.
“So I was part of it.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t need the verbal validation, but the admission still tugged at him.
“I have a request,” he said after another pause. “I met someone. I’m working with her now. She’s tied to it too. I need help finding her mother.”
Silence stretched. If he couldn’t hear the hum of the pizza oven on the line, he would have thought Leo—or whatever his real name was—had hung up.
“I wasn’t supposed to,” he said finally, “but I got pretty damn fond of you. I’ll look into it.”
“She goes by Opal Simmons.”
They both knew it wasn’t the name she was born with but one adopted years later when she entered WitSec, and kept when she went into Project Lazarus.
Sinner had been fresh out of high school when he learned about the program. They took people who were stripped of their identities and used it to their advantage.
“Got it.” Leo’s voice was a little shredded.
“Thanks. I’m fond of you too.”
After another pulse of silence, the anxiety in Leo’s voice eased. “You ever use the skills I taught you?”
“If you’re asking if I can still make a damn good pizza, yeah. In fact, I’m making deep dish tonight.”
Leo snorted. “Deep dish, huh? Damn. You really like this woman.” To him, creating a deep-dish pizza was a labor of love.
He found himself smiling. “I do.”
“You know, I made one for your mother once.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“She turned me down.”
They shared a laugh, the sound wrapping around Sinner like one of Leo’s rare hugs he only gave out once a year on Christmas, along with a twenty-dollar bonus in Sinner’s paycheck.
Then the line went dead.
Sinner stood there for a moment longer, his mind made up. The oven in the kitchenette was apartment-sized but adequate for what he had in mind for dinner tonight. After walking the newfoundland, Opal would have worked up an appetite for Uncle Leo’s best deep-dish pizza.
He threw himself into the process, his hands moving from muscle memory while his mind worked through everything that passed between him and Uncle Leo…and him and Opal.
The ingredients weren’t top quality, coming from a cheap local grocery store rather than imported like in Leo’s shop. But he could work with them.
The dough rose. The sauce simmered. The domestic smell filled the room. Leo was right—this meant more than just pizza.
When Opal returned, she paused in the doorway, gaze darting straight to the pan cooling on the counter.
She closed the door and reached behind her to twist the lock without tearing her stare away from the food. “Is that deep-dish pizza?”
He studied her hard, from the strands of her hair the wind had lightly mussed to the knees of her pants—intact, no bloodstains. He nodded once.
“I’ve never had deep dish.”
“It’s the least I can do. You’re burning a lot of calories walking that dog. By the way, you never said the dog’s name.”
“Goliath.”
He chuckled. “Of course it is.”
Her own smile started in her eyes, lighting the black depths with a glimmer, then brightening her entire beautiful face with a glow that stopped the air in his lungs.
They ate at the small table, shoulders brushing when they shifted. They talked about the next check-in with Con. He told her about the guy on the neighboring balcony watching him pop a pill before the cops carted him off to jail.
In exchange, she told him that Goliath was much tamer today, actually only dragging her around half a block before he began to heel.
She chewed a bite, looking thoughtful. “We need to make more moves. Cipher’s never going to contact me if I sit inside eating pizza.”
He arched a brow. “I don’t see a problem with sitting around eating pizza.”
“It’s delicious.” She studied the thick cheese and toppings. “The best I’ve had.” She flicked her gaze to his, and a faint pink blush climbed her cheeks as the words took on a whole other meaning.