Page 28 of Lust

Sydney rolls her eyes. “This is ridiculous but fine,” she says, and it’s nice to see she’s perked up a little since leaving the hospital.

Ro and I do a quick search of the house before letting Syd come in to collect some things for her father. While she’s busy do that, we take the opportunity to have a more thorough poke around, particularly in Kincaid’s office. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Kincaid’s attack was timed perfectly as we’ve been contemplating on how to get access to his house without raising suspicion. Of course, Ro was meant to be having dinner with Kincaid and Sydney tomorrow. Something I’m guessing she wasn’t aware of.

After looking through his kitchen cabinets and the lounge but coming up empty handed, I head upstairs to find Syd.

As soon as I reach the top of the stairs, I can hear her crying and find her sitting on her father’s bed, holding his pyjamas. I drop to my knees in front of her and lay my hands over hers.

“You okay?” I ask, even though it’s a stupid question.

“Yes…no,” she says, then shakes her head. “I don’t know. And I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt Pa.”

I bite my tongue and let her speak, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand.

“I know he’s strict and most people my age don’t understand him, even me sometimes, but he’s a good father and tries to do what’s best for me.” She raises her head and looks at me, her eyes filled with tears.

God, she’s fucking beautiful. And dangerous.

I might have only had a small taste, but it was enough to know this woman has the ability to toss all our plans into chaos.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ROMAN

“For Fuck’s sake,” I curse as I close the last unlocked drawer in Kincaid’s office. I’ve searched every possible area of this room, careful not to disturb things too much, and found nothing. We already have evidence of Kincaid’s true identity and a plan set to unravel his comfy little life, but I want tangible evidence, something solid before I blow up Sydney’s life in the process. Despite who Kincaid is, I don’t think Sydney has a clue about her preciouspa.

Leaving the office, I head back to the living room. I scan the photos of Sydney on the mantel piece and hung on the walls at various ages. There’s something missing though and it takes me a couple of minutes to figure it out. There isn’t one picture of Sydney with her mother. In all our digging into Kincaid, we’ve never come across any mention of Sydney’s mother. We aren’t even aware of any of Warren/Amos’ girlfriends at the time Sydney would have been conceived.

I make a note to ask her about her mother, and maybe she’ll giveaway something she doesn’t realise is important. I walk through the house again then go in search of Sydney and Blake to find out what’s taking so long.

The first room I come to was obviously Sydney’s before she moved out. Minus her personal belongings it looks how I imagine it did when she was here. Hushed voices reach me from the room next door, and I peer through the open door.

Blake is on his knees in front of Sydney, who is sitting on the end of her father’s bed. His hands are clasping hers in her lap, and they are staring at one another. The air shifts as Blake lifts a hand and brushes a tear from her cheek before cupping her face. I know what’s coming, but we can’t do this here. I don’t give a shit where we fuck Sydney when it happens, which it will, but I know she won’t be able to wrestle with committing a sin and in her father’s bed too.

I step into the room as Blake is ready to lean in and claim her lips.

“We ready to get out of here?” I ask, roughly, and they jump at the sound of my voice. I’d like to say my frustrated tone is all due to finding nothing useful here, but I know it’s not. Sydney Kincaid is gradually becoming an issue, an unexpected problem. Maybe once we fuck her, the desire for her will subside and we can finish what we came here for without distraction, then we can get back to our lives.

Blake rises to his feet, shooting me a scowl as he takes the pyjamas Sydney was cradling and stuffs them into the small holdall on the bed. Sydney avoids my gaze as she pushes up from the bed, smoothing out the creases in the sheets from where she sat.

I go to zip up the bag, but Sydney says, “Wait. I need some things from the bathroom.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond and enters the small en suite bathroom. There’s a crash and a muttered “sugar” before she returns carrying a small toiletry bag. She pulls the holdall on the bed toward her and stuffs the smaller bag inside, then continues to zip it closed. Sydney slips her hands under the handles, preparing to pick it up, but beforeshe can raise it an inch from the bed, I grab it and take it from her.

“Hey! I can manage.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” I tell her as I leave the room and descend the stairs.

She jogs after me with Blake a step behind. I head for the front door, leaving her and Blake to lock up. I throw the bag in the boot and get in the car, switching the engine on and wait.

There is something strange about Kincaid’s house, about the pictures of Sydney specifically. The guy is a sick fuck, yet his house is…normal, what you’d expect for a single man with a daughter. And I get that people can put on a show for others to ensure their true identity remains hidden, but this is different.

Five minutes later and still trying to figure out what is bothering me so much, Blake and Sydney exit the house. Neither of them say a word as Blake climbs in beside me and Sydney gets in the back.

I can feel Blake’s gaze as I drive. When we stop at a set of traffic lights, I glance in the rearview mirror and find Sydney’s attention is intently focused on something outside her window, so I look over to Blake. He raises a brow.

“Nothing,” I say quietly, knowing he’s silently asking what’s wrong. I’m frustrated, pissed off and wanting answers. I’m beginning to think we are missing something.

I don’t like being wrong.

Pulling up to the hospital, Sydney opens her door and Blake gets out too.

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