James, Malco, and Mercy walked in a few minutes later and settled themselves around the table as Nick spoke with Sydney about her muscle car. It seemed the entire team was taking Sydney under their wing.
“Thanks for coming in. I have an update on the case and an idea I’d like to put to you guys.” Kingsley leaned back in his chair beside Sydney, his posture relaxed not betraying anything of how he felt.
“Shoot, but I do have some information that might impact that if you want it first?” Malco offered with a frown.
“Tell us.” Kingsley’s heart sunk as Malco looked at Sydney with an apology.
“I’m sorry to say, Sydney, but it looks like your mother’s accident wasn’t an accident. The corner where it happened has no surveillance cameras, and honestly, it’s too long ago for anyone to have kept any recordings anyway, but I spoke to one of the nurses who treated your mother. She said that she was alive and talking when they brought her in.” Malco sighed and rubbed his leg an obvious sign he didn’t like where this conversation was heading. “Her injuries were considered severe but non-life-threatening. She even mentioned a visit from her husband, but after he left, she went into respiratory distress and died. Nothing was ever put together and they figured they had missed something on the initial exam.”
“How does this prove it wasn’t an accident?”
Kingsley could tell from Sydney’s tone that she didn’t want to believe both her parents had been stolen from her by the man who had kidnapped her.
“Your dad was in Tampa when it happened. There are flight manifests to prove it. Whoever it was that visited your mom, it wasn’t your dad.”
“My uncle,” she whispered dropping her head.
“Yes, that’s my guess.”
“Anything else?” Kingsley asked as he fought not to take Sydney’s hand in comfort.
“Not sure. Maybe a lead on the mechanics that serviced your mom’s car, but I’ll update you when I know more.”
“Thanks, Malco. Now, Sydney and I went to her father’s house. While we were there we found a book hidden in a compartment only she and her dad knew about in the car they built together.”
“Wait. You helped build that car out front?” James sat forward with renewed interest on his face.
“Yes, it was a wreck when we got it, but we restored it and pimped a few things.”
“Be still my beating heart. Marry me, Sydney,” James begged as he fell to his knees and held a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture that made them all laugh.
“Get up, you idiot.” Mercy shook her head even as her lips twitched with a smile.
“Sorry, James, I have a thing for tall, dark, and handsome and you’re only tall.” Sydney quipped showing her cheeky side.
Kingsley laughed at the expression on James’s face but knew he had taken it in fun when James also laughed. “You wound me.”
“As I was saying,” Kingsley said getting back to business, “we found a book in the compartment with a poem in it. Sydney believes it leads us to her mom’s aunt’s place in Indiana. I propose we—that is Sydney and I—go there and see if we can find anything while Mercy poses as Sydney to draw out Rutherford and his men.”
Mercy looked at Sydney. “I can do that. We’re similar in build and looks.”
“I need you to be visible but not obvious. James, you act as if you’re guarding her. We’ll hide the car in the garage, so they have to go looking if they want to find her. I suspect by now they have a clue that she’s getting help, but they won’t necessarily know it’s from us yet.
“Yep, sounds good to me.”
“Right. Let’s get moving on this. I want to be on the road in a couple of hours.”
“We’re driving?” Sydney asked as everyone stood.
Kingsley moved closer to her fighting the pull to touch her but worried he would scare her off if he pushed. “Yes, they’re less likely to trace us if we drive. We can stop halfway if you want.”
“I hope you have a spare car then because yours is at my dad’s place and let me tell you, I’m used to a certain level of comfort in a car and a Prius isn’t gonna cut it.”
“Is that so? Well, maybe I’ll put the Prius in the garage and get my other car out.” He moved closer and watched her eyes dilate.
“Yeah and what car is that?”
He stopped a hair’s breadth away from her. “You’ll have to wait and see won’t you,” he said his voice a husky growl.
“Umm, I guess so.” She tipped her head to the side watching him intently.
Yep, this woman was going to kill him on this ride.
10
Sydney floated on the verge of consciousness, surrounded by the comforting sound of the roaring engine and the scent of the driver that was becoming so familiar, and wondered if she would be able to live without it. His entire presence for that matter.
As soon as they put the plan in order, which was to have Mercy act as her with a bodyguard following her around, Kingsley had said something to Nick, who’d disappeared swiftly. Before she could blink, Cleo had a bag packed for her with all she could need as well as some food and hot coffee for the road. In less than an hour, they were out the door. The drive was long, almost 20 hours straight through, longer if they stopped along the way.
Kingsley’s car had made her smile. It was the latest Mustang Shelby, in dark Highland green, like Steve McQueen’s in Bullitt, he’d specified with evident pride.
The Brit operative wasn’t joking when he said he was into muscle cars. It may not have the same old charm as her father’s GTO, but it was a really nice ride, nonetheless. They left Miami behind them around midday, and it was as if all the stress, all the grief slowly dripped out of her. All those hours without sleep in her cell caught up to her, and she finally let go and crashed.
Kingsley didn’t say a word. She suspected he was always checking up on her, trying to gauge her mood, and Sydney was still debating if she liked it or not. There was no denying he was considerate, but she didn’t want anybody tiptoeing around her. Especially not him, even if the real reason why was still an enigma.
Lulled into sleep once more, reassured she was as safe as she could be under the circumstances, Sydney let her thoughts drift until she was home again and walking down the sidewalk leading to the house. She was grumbling, frustrated, unable to remember why.
The sun was setting, and it was getting cooler, but her thoughts were all about Jeremy and how good he looked all sweaty returning from practice. As soon as the bell rang, Sydney often ran straight from her last course to the practice field to secretly fawn over the blond heartthrob as he played, even if he wasn’t interested in her. That’s why she was upset. The guy only looked at those stupid cheerleaders.
Climbing up the porch stairs, she unlocked the door before dropping her bag on the floor, and opening the fridge door. Her dad was away on a business trip, but he’d made sure there was enough food to feed an army. Taking out a box of frozen pizza, she was about to pop it in the oven when the doorbell rang.
When she opened the door and saw her uncle Raymond with a smiling Troy behind him, images started to disintegrate in her mind. She remembered everything—the screams, the pain, the hands pawing her body, tearing at her clothes. It was the laughter that still drove her mad to this day. After countless hours of therapy, the nightmare always brought her to her knees. Raymond’s maniacal laugh and Troy’s ragged breath in her ear invaded her dreams as she begged and screamed, battling them the best she could but destined to lose. Over and over again.
“Sydney!”
A deep, strong voice sliced through her pain like the cracking of a whip. It wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a new voice, but one that was familiar, comforting. Bolstered by the unexpected energy, Sydney fought even harder, and for the first time in all the years of nightmarish dreams, she saw her two attackers step back.
“Sydney!”
Jerking awake, she braced herself for her attackers to retaliate against her fight, her br
eathing ragged. It took time for her to come around, to take note of where she was, of the position she was in, her body sitting in a car with the passenger door open, Kingsley crouched close as the sun started coloring the horizon as it lowered in the sky, a cooling breeze fluttering over her skin.
Breathing slowing down, shivering from the evening air pouring inside, Sydney was in a haze between the fear and the first sensation of victory she had sensed in a long time.
“Hey, Sydney. You awake?”
After a slow nod, she took a deep breath and relaxed in her seat. “Sorry, bad dream.”
Kingsley exhaled in turn, and his guard loosened. “Yeah. I got that. Couldn’t wake you. The way you screamed, it sounded like someone was killing you.”
Even if it shook her to the core each and every time she relived the worst day of her life, she was lucky enough to have the capacity to bounce back from it. Kingsley looked as if he had seen a ghost, his skin so pale against his dark beard, his body reacting like he had run a marathon.
“Are you certain you’re okay?”
His voice was thick with concern, and once he was satisfied with her nod, he pushed a water bottle in her hands and straightened, taking a few steps away from the car.
The water felt good as she watched him walking along the deserted road. Where are we? It looked like some sort of rest area in the middle of nowhere. She saw him pace for a while before stretching and raking his hand through his hair several times. His back was to her as he faced the multihued sunset. Getting out of the car, Sydney stretched a little, her body still battling the lingering uneasiness. She had come to terms with the fact that nightmares would be part of her life until the end, but it was Kingsley’s reaction that made her curious.
Slowly she approached until she was standing by his side. “Are you all right?”
The look he gave her almost made her laugh. “Me? You’re asking me if I’m all right? Christ!”
Again he raked his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots.
“I’m sorry if I scared you. I…”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me!” He clenched his jaw before relaxing again. “I… When you started to thrash in your seat, I knew you were trapped in a bad dream. I’ve flirted with PTSD myself enough times to know the signs.”
Again he looked at the horizon, but he was far from contemplative. “I hate feeling helpless, don’t you see? Throw me into the worst firefight in the middle of Ramadi, give me ten seconds to disconnect a dirty bomb, but the sounds you made… I thought the claws squeezing my heart were enough to stop it beating.”
Sydney didn’t know what to do. It was the first time someone had ever seen her at her most vulnerable. Over the years, she had made sure her father had never noticed or heard her reliving the worst day of her life. And as for lovers, they had been scarce and so few that she’d always slept alone.
Pushing back against her defense mechanisms and her own reactions, she got closer and circled his waist in a tentative hug. Her body tensed at the contact, unused to being intimate, but after a lungful of his familiar scent and the sure thump of his heart against her ear, she relaxed.
As for Kingsley, it took her a moment to realize that he was frozen solid into place, arms wide, and barely breathing.
The image of him she conjured in her head bubbled into chuckles. “Maybe they don’t do hugs the same in England, but here we respond by returning the hug.”
And then she heard the air whooshing back into his lungs. Ever so slowly, as if she was made of glass, his muscled arms came around her smaller frame, light as a feather at first, and firmer as time passed and he relaxed. When he finally put his bearded cheek on top of her head she finally allowed herself to enjoy the embrace.
“Look, Sydney, I get the feeling that something happened to you. Something more than your parents dying or you being kidnapped. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or push any boundaries.”
Through the rumble, she almost missed his words. It made sense why he was always on his guard with her, anticipating the worst. He was a good man. However, the more time she spent with him, the less her body agreed with being good.
“You’re right, something did but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
His lungs filled and he exhaled with a sigh. Sydney did the same in return. It was as if all that warm strength of his was seeping into her, infusing her with courage and a feeling of safety. Only one man had made her feel that safe, and it had been her dad. And now, Kingsley Knight, only in a very different way, and the underlying attraction she felt for him simmered in the background. Against him, it was as if her body was coming alive, emerging from a long slumber.
Sydney was the first one surprised. She had attempted over and over again with the few men she dated to achieve a state of arousal and now, just by being there, this man made her tingle with a desire she thought gone forever. The more she relaxed, the more that feeling overtook her body. Exhilarated, feeling alive, her core clenched and she decided to ride the wave. Carpe diem, as they said.
Rubbing her cheek against his pectorals, she let her hands trace the warm path of muscles over his shirt. The quick shiver she felt under her hands brought her such a surge of joy and power, it fueled her even more.
Kingsley’s breathing accelerated, but his arms remained still, waiting.
Unwilling to let go of her sudden courage, Sydney circled his neck and brought his lips to hers. The man yielded to her silent command and wisely left his large hands on her hips.
Strong emotions battled inside her head as they kissed—astonishment, lust, apprehension, and fear. A damning fear that rose steadily and threatened to destroy the moment until Kingsley emitted a low groan, his hands twitching. The feel of his controlled strength against her, the taste of him, brought her back to the present, reminding her of her own courage and of something she’d never thought would happen again.
However, before she could indulge some more, she stepped back.
The sun was getting lower, and when Sydney was able to focus again, her eyes went to him, his face bathed in the late evening light. Her heart stuttered—he was breathtakingly handsome. Even if either of them had moved, they were both breathing hard.
Kingsley swallowed, clearly trying to get his thoughts together. “Are you all right?”
It took a moment for Sydney to gather her own thoughts to reply and she smiled at the words they used so often. They had become a kind of barometer to reassure themselves. Once she did, she bit her lips. “May I remind you that I’m the one who jumped you?”
The grin that split his beard was a mix of amusement and evident hunger.
“Sydney, you can jump on me whenever you feel like it. My body is at your disposal.”
Laughing and slightly embarrassed by his words, she was tempted to take him up on his suggestion when a buzzing noise intruded.
Kingsley retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and slid his finger across it, reading an incoming message. “The plan is working. Mercy just texted us to say that they’re being followed. It’s discrete, but it’s there. We should get going. Who knows how long it will take them to discover our little scheme? You good to go?”
Reality had a way of sneaking back with a vengeance. Nodding at Kingsley, it was true that she was ready. Some of her old self, from so many years ago was coming back, and she welcomed it. As she walked to the car, Sydney remembered why they had initially stopped, but the nightmare seemed so far away now, so inconsequential compared to their mission that it lost its importance. On this empty side of the road in the middle of nowhere at sunrise, somehow, things had changed, and she was glad.
11
Pulling into the truck stop, Kingsley glanced at Sydney and noted the frown lines and brutal hold on her control that seemed to be a part of her had slipped a little. He allowed the relief to ease the anger that had been building ever since she had started to scream and whimper as she fought invisible attackers with a ferocity that made him inexplicabl
y proud of her.
The other feeling it evoked in him was a thirst for blood that he couldn’t remember having in such a long time it was difficult to pinpoint. Her nightmare pretty much confirmed every dark thought he’d had about what had happened to her, and he wanted to tear apart every person who had ever hurt her. Make them hurt like she had been. Make them pay—and he would. He vowed to himself that every one of them would pay. Her strength and endurance amazed him.
Kingsley didn’t care that it made no sense, that he had only known her such a short time. They had barely exchanged but one kiss, but it had affected him more than most sexual encounters ever had, and he had known a lot of women. He wasn’t the dog some of his friends in the forces were, but he had a healthy sex drive.
Sydney was different though, and he knew he’d have to be careful with her. Everything about her called to him, had since he’d first laid eyes on her and it confused him. He had never seen himself falling in love and settling down, and he wasn’t enough of an idiot to think he was in love now, but for the first time ever he saw the possibility of a life with someone. The only problem was people wanted her dead, and that just wasn’t going to happen on his watch.
Sydney turned to him as he turned off the engine and a small smile flittered at the corner of her lips before she blushed and looked down, breaking eye contact. “We need to eat and get fuel.”
“Great, I’m starved.” Her tummy let out a loud grumble in agreement.
“Let me get out first, and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
He checked their surroundings and then exited the car. Walking around to her side he opened the door, his head on a constant swivel as he watched for any threat. Holding his hand out he helped her out and with his arm behind her back escorted her inside the diner, holding the door for her to proceed him. He spotted a booth near the back with clear sight to the front door, kitchen door, fire exit, nobody at his back, and he made a beeline for it not waiting to be seated by the harried waitress who glared at him.
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