Kingsley shrugged. “It’s a technique, and I was good at it. It may have been dangerous, but it meant that members of the SAS could perform their mission and survive. Bombs are only one aspect of danger, and there are far more lethal ones in the battlefield, believe me.”
Sydney couldn’t believe her ears. This man had a death wish. However, she decided to let it go as she turned into a residential area and stopped in front of her dad’s house. Turning the engine off, her hands gripped the steering wheel. It was a reflex each time she came, and the reason she didn’t come anymore. The blood had been wiped clean, but death still lingered, preventing her from remembering softer, warmer memories of the home they had shared.
It was there that she’d realized she was an orphan and knew her uncle had staged it. It wasn’t proof, but a knowledge so deep, it was imprinted in her bones. The devil had her once, she could now recognize the smell and sight of it anywhere.
Sydney expected Kingsley to jump out of the truck and head to the house. Instead, eyes still scanning the area, he relaxed in his seat and waited. It took a moment for Sydney to realize he was waiting for her cue. No surprise there, she was so tense if she’d had more strength, she would have broken the steering wheel in two.
One by one, she unclenched her fingers before finally leaning back in the driver seat. “Sorry.”
Kingsley, turned his head to look at her. “About what?”
“I should be stronger, not let things that are in the past affect me this way. Especially things I can’t change.”
“That’s bullshit, Sydney. You don’t see what I see. You’re one of the strongest human beings I know.”
Sydney snorted, but that seemed to anger him. “Why are you insulting me?”
“Insulting you?”
“Yeah, I’m telling you the truth. How many people after losing their parents in traumatic circumstances, not to mention being kidnapped jumps back into the line of fire? You may not look like it, but you, lady, have the courage of a lion.”
The conviction in his voice, and the searing heat of the emotions contained in his eyes astounded her. And even more surprisingly soothed her. How could a complete stranger who had only come to her rescue that morning make her feel so safe and understand the tattered state of her soul in such a way?
The realization was almost frightening. Unable to say another word, Sydney got out the truck. Self-preservation screamed at her to be careful, and she would. Kingsley’s intention, along with the rest of the Agency, might be honorable and selfless, but they didn’t know how dangerous her uncle could be.
Without looking at Kingsley, she walked straight to the door, but her own personal bodyguard gently touched her elbow.
“Wait.” Before she could ask why, he pulled a small device from his pocket, that looked a little like a smartphone. “Your apartment was bugged. I wouldn’t be surprised if your father’s house was also infested.”
Her apartment had bugs? “You mean microphones?”
Kingsley adjusted the settings. “Yeah, eyes and ears, and not your run-of-the-mill kind. The person who installed them had means and bottomless pockets.”
Sydney knew who he was referring to. When he signaled her to enter, she unlocked the door and let him in. The place was musty, dim. It was like entering a dreamlike state. Memories tried to insinuate themselves into her mind, but she kept them at bay. The bad would follow the good, and it was not the time and place to have the complete meltdown she knew she was capable of.
Kingsley went into each and every room, silent and focused on the small screen, until he was satisfied, and came back to the entrance, pocketing the device. “We’re clear. I think they found it unnecessary to install expensive electronics as you don’t come here very often.”
It was more like never. She paid a neighbor to mow the lawn and keep an eye on things, but it was the first time she’d come back since the cleaning crew had left after removing her father’s blood from the walls and floor.
Images superimposed themselves in front of her eyes. She had run around the parked police cars to reach the front door, evading the outstretched hands trying to stop her. Nothing could have kept her outside. Her father, the love of her life, was face down on the floor in a pool of blood. His familiar form lit by cold light and detached strangers.
“Sydney?”
A deep voice pulled her back. Kingsley. It was low, soothing, even tentative as if wondering how to bring her back into the moment. Memories couldn’t be helped, but they had to wait. “What are we searching for?”
Kingsley locked eyes with her for a long moment before nodding. “Anything that might give us a clue what your uncle wants. Anything that connects him to your mother or your father, or anything significant.”
Sydney sighed. “I went through all of my father’s things. Papers, pictures. Every piece of furniture you see here is empty. I didn’t want anybody to come here and rob anything. It’s in a secure storage unit if you want to see it. But I’ve checked each piece, and there wasn’t anything weird or suspicious.
“I think we should have a look, nonetheless. Have you thrown anything away?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.” Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue. “At some point, it was so painful, I was barely able to finish sorting the house. There’s still the attached garage left, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to touch anything in there.”
Once more she had trouble catching her breath. Kingsley came as close as possible without touching her. Normally a person’s natural instinct was to offer comfort by touch and Sydney was surprised at Kinsley’s restraint. Since her rape and her father’s murder, being touched could trigger a negative reaction. She was grateful that he seemed to understand without words her need for space right then.
“I wish I could make it easier on you, Sydney. I sincerely do. But time is against us. If you want, we can go back to the Agency and have a couple of the others go through the house.”
The thought of strangers touching her father’s thing was like a bucket of ice over her head. “No, we’re here. I can do it. Come on.”
With way more confidence than she felt, Sydney walked toward the side door by the kitchen and switched on the lights as she entered the garage. Kingsley followed her and whistled at the space that had been turned into every performance mechanics dream.
Her father had been a true sports car fanatic, and there was his last project, his pride and joy, covered with a tarp.
When she pulled it off, the admiring whistle from Kingsley put a smile on her face.
“Whoa, that’s a muscle car! What a beauty!”
“It’s a 1976 Pontiac GTO Custom Hardtop. Dad spent two years trying to find it. It was in poor shape when he got it. It was our project. We had almost finished…”
The car shone in all its dark glory inside the garage. There were still some slight tweaks to be done with the engine, but it was done. They had planned a road trip to test it out.
Kingsley rounded the car, his fingers hovering over the gleaming paint. “Always fancied how blueberry looked on a real car. It looked great in pictures. I see that your dad didn’t go with the Endura bumper and preferred the Pontiac LeMans bumper and grille instead. It’s a much slicker look in my opinion.”
Sydney blinked. “You know about muscle cars?”
He flashed her a wicked grin. “American muscle cars. I may be a Brit, but I’ve always been fascinated by them. Just too expensive for me to import back home. But maybe I should consider buying an oldie like this now that I’m staying in Miami. Maybe a convertible.”
Speechless, Sydney could only watch as he rounded the car. “I understand why you couldn’t touch it after your dad passed away. This is clearly a work of art. Of love. May I?”
Nodding at his request, she watched him open the door and slide behind the wheel. So often she had seen her father in his place, but this was different. The heat rising in her belly at the sight of this obviously lethal man in a powerful car shocked her.
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Like a moth attracted to the flame, she moved closer and crouched by the open window. Kingsley rubbed his palms over the slick leather of the console. “How damaged was it when your father bought it?”
“A complete wreck. We had to start rebuilding it from scratch. We were both covered in so much grime and grease all the time, we had to leave our clothes on the threshold before going back inside the house.”
“He was the one who taught you about mechanics?”
Sydney nodded. “That was the thing we had in common. I don’t love mechanics and cars because my dad loved it, but because we did it together. He made me love it, like a puzzle. He found a sense of peace working on his cars. The GTO was his baby. Priceless in his eyes. I remember that when I couldn’t find him in the house, he was sitting there.”
Images of her dad sidetracked her for a moment before she noticed Kingsley looking around the car. “What are you doing?”
It took a moment for him to answer her. “You said your father hadn’t left any important papers in the house. Do you think he had information about your uncle, his brother, and that’s why Rutherford is so keen to find them? Maybe your dad suspected foul play with your mother’s accident. I see how well-kept his workplace is, the details and care he put into restoring this car. There’s no way he wouldn’t have kept notes about his suspicions. And I suspect he knew you would never part with this car, so they have to be here somewhere.”
In it? Straightening, she shook herself and started to think. After all, they had dismantled the car and put it back together, so some of her father’s specifications, one in particular, now made sense.
Going to the passenger’s side, she opened the door. “Dad said he wanted to have a secret compartment in the car, for fun. We laughed a lot about it. I thought it was silly, but he said he wanted to engrave both our names in a place nobody would ever find so the car would always be ours.”
Sydney felt under the seat and pushed it back. Feeling the carpeted floor, she touched a switch and pushed it back. A small opening lifted. She remembered it being empty when they both signed their names. Now, a black notebook lay inside.
With trembling fingers, Sydney took it. “It seems that you’re right, Mister Knight.”
Opening it, she recognized her father’s handwriting. Before she could start reading, a loud bang resonated from the house.
Kingsley’s gun was in his hand in less than a second. “Get in the car. We’re not alone anymore.”
9
Sydney scrambled back in the car as Kingsley turned the key and the engine roared to life. He slammed the car in reverse, and wrapping his arm around the back of her seat, he glanced across at her. “Put your seatbelt on and duck low.”
Sydney obeyed without question, clipping the belt and ducking her head as the inner door to the garage flew open and three men started firing at them.
Kingsley hit the accelerator, and the car shot through the wooden garage door, bouncing as the bumper hit the pavement. Sydney winced as bullets sprayed the car and Kingsley swore. All she could focus on was the fact her dad’s pride and joy was shot to hell and damaged. Not that she was literally putting her complete and utter trust in Kingsley Knight to get them out of there but that her last memory of her dad was ruined.
It made her blood boil as she thought about everything her uncle had taken from her. Hot, angry tears hit her eyes, and she blinked them back determined not to give him that too.
The car sped along the road, fishtailing for a few turns before Kingsley looked at her. “You can sit up now, I lost them.” He ran his eyes over her to check she was okay. “You’re crying. Are you hurt?”
His eyes moved from her to the road and back again as he tried to focus on both. His hand went to hers and she was glad for the contact. It soothed her and she felt steadier. She was beginning to rely on the man. Not only had he been true to his word so far, but in his eyes, she saw real concern. And she liked his touch, way too much, but she couldn’t help herself, and to be honest, she didn’t want to.
“I’m fine, just pissed they shot up my dad’s car,” she grumbled. “Another memory tainted by those assholes.”
Kingsley turned and gave her a dashing smile, which she felt all the way to her toes. This man was lethal in so many ways; it was difficult to keep track.
She frowned trying to hide the way he affected her. “What you grinning at?”
“You. Your resilience. It’s inspiring.”
She wondered for a second if he was yanking her chain, then realized he was serious. “It’s more a case of having too. What other choice do I have except let him win and that I’ll never do. He’ll have to kill me first,” she said with dogged determination.
Kingsley’s face darkened at her words, and for the first time since they had met, he looked scary, dangerous. “He can try, but I won’t let that happen. You have my word, Sydney.”
She felt her heart skip a beat at his vow to protect her. Burying the feeling deep Sydney nodded. “So what now?”
“Now we read the book and see where it takes us.”
Sydney watched the play of muscle on his arms as he handled the beast of a car like a pro and fought the shiver of desire images of him handling other more delicate parts of her body elicited.
“Sydney?”
She looked up guiltily as she realized he had been calling her name. “Sorry, what did you say?”
He grinned at the blush she felt staining her cheeks. “I asked what the book said. It might give us an idea of where to go next.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” She opened the book that was still held tightly in her hand. The sight of her father’s handwriting brought a lump to her throat, which she swallowed. There would be time enough for tears when this was all over, but for now, she needed to make her uncle pay. “It’s a poem.”
“Read it to me.”
“The history you seek is at the beak, but before you go, know where the lamb’s tails grow.” She repeated the words over again in her head as a long-forgotten memory burst to life.
“Well, that was as clear as mud.” Kingsley glanced at her and Sydney smiled at him.
“I think it’s talking about somewhere we would visit when I was very young.” The memory became firmer as she spoke. “We would visit my mom’s aunt, my great-aunt, up in Indiana every spring break. She had ducks on her farm and a hazel tree orchard. Every spring the trees were covered in catkins….”
“And they look like little lambs’ tails.”
“Yes.” Sydney nodded her excitement as a clue to her family’s past started to overtake the fear and grief that had been weighing her down.
“Then I guess that’s where we go next.” Kingsley turned the car back toward the offices a look of determination on his face.
They drove in silence and Sydney lost herself in thought as she let the memories of her mother and father flood through with the knowledge that the man beside her would keep her safe. She couldn’t remember feeling this safe. Except she did, and it had been before her mother was killed.
Kingsley pulled into the parking lot at the Alliance Agency and put the car in park. He looked at her as they sat there. “You okay?”
Sydney nodded and meant it. She would get through this and have a beautiful life because it was what her parents had wanted for her. Her parents had loved her and she had loved them. She would not let anyone stop her from having a life that would make them proud.
Kingsley reached out and took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. Sydney looked at their hands. His so big and tan, hers small and pale. Instantly the image of his body against hers as she cried out for him hit her mind. She had to admit that it was quick, and it made her head buzz.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here, Sydney, but I feel something between us. A connection. I know it feels rushed, but I can’t seem to help myself. Do you feel it too?” His dark eyes met hers, full of warmth and feeling.
The saliva dried in her mouth at his words. Sho
uld she be honest and admit she was attracted to him and make herself vulnerable? Her mind drifted to her parents and the love they had shared. They had adored each other and been so in love. She realized wanted that for herself, but she had to take the first step and admit she liked Kingsley first. “Yes, I feel it, but it terrifies me.”
“I know. It’s not as if we have to act on it right away. I don’t want to pressure you. It’s a complicated situation, but I didn’t want to let that slide. In my line of work, you learn not to wait. But one step at a time, Sydney. Let’s get your uncle dealt with and see what happens, no pressure no promises.” He dropped a kiss to her knuckles then which seemed so gallant and sweet.
“Deal.” She smiled and sighed in relief at his words.
Kingsley let her hand go happy for the moment, and they got out of the vehicle to find Nick standing there.
“Wow, nice car. Where did you get it?” He ran a hand over the hood like a lover’s caress.
“My dad and I built it before he died.”
“What happened?” Nick asked indicating the bullet holes and dents.
“We were at Sydney’s dad’s place, and someone broke in and attacked us while we were checking out the garage.”
Nick straightened, his face going from relaxed to severe. “Did you get a look at them?”
“Not really, three young men but they didn’t seem like they had much training. We did, however, find a clue. I need to update the team on the plan, and I have an idea that involves Mercy too.” He ushered Sydney toward the door as Nick followed.
Moving them swiftly through reception he stopped long enough to ask Cleo if she could call Mercy, James, and Malco into the conference for him.
“Sure, King, I can do that for you. How’s she holding up?” Cleo was looking at Sydney.
He turned and watched the woman who had placed herself firmly under his skin in such a short amount of time. It was giving him whiplash. “She’s great,” he answered, then walked away, deliberately ignoring the questioning look in Cleo’s eyes.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 137
