Everything about the memory had her pussy on fire.
He was dangerous.She wanted more of him.
11
Fink
Finkshouldn’thaveplayedthe game.Actually, he shouldn’t have beenhonestduring it.Whatwasit about this woman?Being in her presence disarmed him.He had no defense against her.There was no reason in the world for him to tell the truth, but here he was, spilling all sorts of secrets.
He wasn’t a complete idiot.He kept specifics out of it when he could.Vague responses to stuff that would truly identify him, but with his favorite color, food, and movie, he let those details fly.
The more he thought about their back and forth, he decided it was nice.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed the company of another human being.He’d been around plenty, but usually in a transactional or business capacity.Whenwashis most recent social interaction that was more than surface level?
Loneliness wasn’t the reason he engaged with Sydney.He was content by himself.This was so much better.She was funny and innocent in a weird way.
The irony wasn’t lost on him, considering he had witnessed her stab a guy in the jugular.
That was part of her charm.This bubbly woman was completely unfazed by the fact she’d contributed to the death of another person.Either she was psychotic, like him, or in denial.
At this point, he’d roll with it.
He had no other option.
Through no choice of their own, they were in this together.Or, well, at least until he was sure she wouldn’t rat on him.
She wouldn’t.
He couldn’t explain why he knew this, but Fink was convinced Sydney would take their secret to the grave.She could be trusted.AJ wouldn’t get it.He hadn’t met her, but when he did, if he did, he would understand.
Though, because it was better to be safe than sorry, Fink would stick around until she got cleared from the suspect list.He expected the police would show up sooner rather than later.It wasn’t like they hid Grant or anything.They’d left him right out in the open during a party.Someone had to have stumbled upon him by now.
“I’m getting tired.”Sydney yawned.
“Then you should go to bed,” he suggested.
“Will you come with me?”she asked in a tone far too innocent for what he learned about her.
Dipping his chin, he shook his head.“No.”
“Oh.”Her disappointment was palpable in that lone syllable.
It pierced his heart so hard he nearly covered his chest to check for blood.What was wrong with him?
“Okay,” she said as she pushed off the couch.
“I like to keep watch,” he lied.
Practically, he shouldn’t leave himself vulnerable with someone with whom he was unfamiliar.No matter how comfortable Sydney made him, he couldn’t lower all his guards.He had to keep some of them up.Self-preservation had to remain intact—no matter how wrong it felt in that moment.
She furrowed her brow.“For what?”
He tilted his head.
Her confusion perplexed him.If she were a trained killer, she would understand why the first forty-eight hours afterward were the most crucial and imperative.If they could lie low and stay off the radar for two days, the odds they’d get caught dwindled.
This should be second nature.Unless…
