He nodded.“If it becomes a thing, I’ll take the heat.”
“What?”
“I’ve done far worse than you can ever imagine.If the cops come knocking, and our contingency plan falls apart, it’s my time.”
“But…”
He pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her.“These murders are on me.”
53
Fink
Thanksgiving
The murder suit wouldn’t do.It was too formal.Not to mention, Fink didn’t plan on killing anyone at this dinner.It was a family affair, but not his.Therefore, the opportunity shouldn’t present itself.
Even if it did, he’d vowed no more freelancing.All his hits had to be on contract.If there was no money, he couldn’t do it.No matter how badly they pissed him off.
He shouldn’t go into this thinking Sydney’s chosen family would bother him.She picked them for a reason.They couldn’t be like his kin.
Blowing out a breath, staring at his reflection in the mirror, he considered covering his tattoo.If these people were respectable, having a giant clover inked on his neck might give the wrong impression—no matter how right it was.
He was a dangerous guy, but broadcasting his nature to a bunch of do-gooders seemed wrong.
They invited him into their home, to their table, with nothing but the best intentions.He should respect that.No matter how foreign being welcomed felt for him.
“What are you doing?”Sydney asked as she bopped into the bathroom, poking an earring through her lobe.
“Debating,” he said as he cocked his head to the side and rubbed the symbol on his jugular.
Tightening her lips, she inched closer and rose up on her tiptoes to inspect him.
“I probably should cover my ink,” he admitted.“Out of respect.”
She lowered to flat feet and furrowed her brows.“How is a clover disrespectful?”
Another thing he’d have to include in her lessons—gang markings.Somehow this corrupt woman, who was so devious and dangerous, found a way to be naïve.He couldn’t help but grin in the face of her innocence.
“Never mind.”He shook his head, more at himself than her.
Reaching outward, he wrapped his arms around and tugged her toward him and against his bare chest.
“Forget I said anything.”He kissed the top of her head.“I’m probably overthinking it.”
That was his superpower, after all.
“I’m inclined to agree,” she said as she squeezed his middle.
Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the simple moment.These stolen minutes of absolute comfort made taking the risk of partnering with her worth it.Sure, the sex was phenomenal, but he could get laid whenever he wanted.This was what made her special.This was why he couldn’t get Sydney out of his head.
She was a vibe.There was something about the contrast of her bubbly persona and her murder-y one.He could never get enough.She was excited to learn about him, what he did, and how he did it.He, and everything about him, didn’t disgust her.He intrigued her.
No one, not even AJ, his longest companion on this planet, took as much interest in him as Sydney did.She was a treasure to be cherished.
And that was why he second-guessed displaying his clover tattoo proclaiming his ties to the Irish Mafia.Her family invited him into a bright space—a happy occasion of coming together and giving thanks.He shouldn’t cloud it with such things.
Except Sydney hadn’t a clue what it meant.Her family might not either.
