Page 116 of Destroyer
“But you don’t follow the rules,” he said. “You, Sydney Austin, are a baddie who has my utmost respect.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m here for you,” he said. “Whatever you need, for as long as you need my support.” Then, he smiled. A simple, loving smile that had her breathing deep and releasing the anxiety in her exhale. His thoughtfulness—his focus on her—sent relief flooding through her stressed nervous system.
“Please, keep going,” she prodded. “You’re helping me calm down. Tell me about you, about life after college.”
“After undergrad, I worked for Luciano, only he didn’t want me to work at his clothing business, Santini International. I worked for him as an assassin.” He paused. “I thought that the life—the one I knew from childhood—was behind me. Nope. I’ve gone on hits with Luciano, Greystone, my cousin Carrera, and a few with Sin and Dakota. When Luciano took the restaurant away from our uncle, I jumped at the chance to run it. It was the firstnormaljob I’ve had. Then, Dakota pulls me into this group for The Day of Destruction mission. This is an insane way to go through life. At the end of the day, thesemissions are just assignments, but when innocent people die in front of me, those stay with me. The ones Ican’tsave.”
She nodded, hoping he’d continue. She liked that he had a heart, despite being a ruthless assassin. She liked that he talked about how he felt. She liked that beneath his hard exterior lay a man she wanted to spend time with, learn everything about.
“What caused your PTSD?” he asked.
She crossed her leg, uncrossed it. She turned toward him, then pushed off the bed. Every muscle, every cell, every fiber was telling her to run, to flee so she wouldn’t have to talk about it. Talking ripped open the wound. She’d talked to people who were kind, who wanted to help, but ultimately, she would leave the safe space of their offices and return to her reality.
Where the demons visited her in her dreams and haunted her days.
“When I was ten,” she began, “I was playing in my front yard with my best friend. We were jumping rope in the driveway. It was a Saturday and she’d come over for a lunch playdate. We’d been friends since the first day of first grade.” Sydney smiled at the sweet memory. “Her dad pulled up to the curb.” A shudder ran through her. “He got out, shot her, then he pointed the gun at me?—”
“Jesus.”
“Instead of shooting me, he turned the gun on himself and shot himself in the head.”
The pain and emotion that lurked just below the surface came out in a whoosh. Her heart squeezed so hard, she rubbed her chest. It was like it happened yesterday, not twenty-one years ago.
He stroked her back, then held her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It was absolutely terrifying and hard to describe. I was screaming, but I don’t remember that. My dad came rushing outside. He carried me into the house, but I remember wantingto go back outside to help Briana.” She paused. “I called her Bree.”
“What happened to Briana?” he asked.
“She died. He did too.”
“How sad. Why did he kill her?”
“Her parents were divorcing and she got caught in a custody battle. I didn’t understand this until years later. All I knew was that she was living with her mom and she didn’t get to see her dad very much.”
“I want to hold you,” Tank said, “but I don’t want to crowd you.”
She smiled. “You’re the most communicative man I’ve ever met.”
Tank chuffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not like my brothers. I think it comes from Elsa. She talked to me all the time.” He patted his leg. “Can I hold you?”
She sat on his lap, rested her legs over his, and he held her close. She kissed his cheek, then dropped a soft kiss on his lips.
“We should be fooling around,” she said as she breathed him in. “This is too heavy.”
“We’ll get there,” he said. “Did you get help?”
“Tons,” Sydney continued. “My parents were amazing. Caroline’s a year younger. The day Bree was killed, she and my mom were out shopping. I was so happy she wasn’t there. She found out, but I tried not talking about it in front of her. I ended up sleeping in this oversized chair in my parents’ bedroom, then Caroline and I shared a bedroom. I talked to therapists, doctors. So many people.”
“How did you end up an assassin?”
“Ironic, huh?”
Knock-knock.
Sydney scrambled off him, opened the door. Caroline and Grey were standing there.
