Page 22 of Knight Watch

Chapter Ten

Sydney floatedon the verge of consciousness, surrounded by the comforting sound of the roaring engine and the scent of the driver that was becoming so familiar, wondering if she would be able to live without it. His presence at her side had become vital to her well-being.

As soon as they put the plan into action—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 packed a bag 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. By her calculations they would arrive sometime the following morning.

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 nice ride, nonetheless. They’d left Miami around midday, and it was as if all the stress and grief slowly dripped out of her. All those hours without sleep in her cell caught up to her, and she’d 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 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, her breathing ragged, she braced for her attackers to strike back at her, punish her for her defiance. It took time for her to come around, to take note of where she was, to realize she was in a car, the passenger door wide open. Kingsley crouched close as the sun started coloring the horizon as it lowered in the sky, a cooling breeze fluttering over her skin.

Slowing her breathing, shivering from the evening air pouring inside the car, Sydney was in a haze between the fear and the first sensation of victory she’d had in a long time.

“Hey, Sydney. Are you okay?”

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 every time she relived the worst day of her life, she was lucky enough to have the capacity to fight through 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. She had no idea where they were. 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 and I’m fine. I’ll handle it no problem, but the sounds you made…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “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. As for lovers, they’d been scarce and so few she’d always slept alone.

Pushing back against her defense mechanisms and her 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.