The gregarious waitress waved her off with a playful laugh. “Hell, honey. All I have to say to that is good on you. Why don’t you slide on up here and grab yourself a seat. I’ll dish you
up a nice slice of peach pie and you can tell me all about it.”
“Throw in a slice of pecan for Earl and we have a deal.”
An hour and a half later, Taylor had broken a sweat despite the cold air whistling around the boarded windows of her apartment. Stuffing the last of the disposables into an oversized garbage bag, she wiped her forehead with the back of her arm and glanced at the clock. A small niggling of worry wormed through her. Bryce had been gone going on four hours now, and Sebastian would be getting off work soon. Growling beneath her breath, she tried to heft the heavy Cinch Sack off the floor. Her back protested with a sharp stab of pain that shot clear down her thigh. Straightening with a grunt, she tried again. It didn’t budge. Her frustration mounted, and dropping her chin to her chest, Taylor settled for dragging it to the back of the apartment. The whole time, she deliberated how to kill her cousin when he finally did arrive.
A forceful round of pounding erupted on the front door, causing her head to snap up. Catching her lip between her front teeth, she froze. She’d heard that kind of knock before. It carried the authority and force that usually meant a visit from the local law officials. She’d heard them beat against the neighbor’s doors enough times to know. Her stomach twisted as her thoughts flew to her cousin. The roads were still slick from patches of snow and ice. What if he had skidded out? Her breath left her in a shaky exhale as she tried to regain her composure. Forcing a tight swallow, she moved to answer the door.
Taylor took a step back upon seeing the black fatigues and bulletproof vests. The gold letters emblazoned across the front left her no doubt who the men were; the only question that remained was why the BATF was at her door. Her mouth opened and closed as they stated her name, demanding to know if that was her. Gripping the peeling wooden frame for support, Taylor managed a weak nod.
“I’m going to have to ask you to come with us, Ma’am.”
“W-why?” she finally managed to stammer. “What’s this about?”
Her heart slammed in the base of her throat. Peach pie and coffee resurfaced in a bitter wave, and she swallowed against the burn. Her eyes darted between the two men, silently begging for an answer.
“Your truck was involved in a local bust.”
“My w-what? That’s…that’s not possible. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but that’s all we can say.”
She winced as one of the men stepped forward, grabbing her arm above her elbow. He pulled her outside as the other brushed past, storming her apartment with his weapon drawn. Wide-eyed, she stared after him in disbelief. Numbness swept through her. Her stomach churned, clenching. Trembling with a combination of nerves and fear, she wondered how she was ever going to explain this to Sebastian—and a smaller part wondered if she would even get the chance. Maybe they would just lock her up on the premise of being guilty. Would they allow her a phone call? Had anyone called her uncle? The number of questions flooding her mind was staggering. Lowering her head, she whispered beneath her breath, posing a final one to nothing but the chilly December air.
“Oh, Bryce. What did you do?”
Sebastian eyed the unfamiliar number on his phone with a combination of confusion and annoyance. Carefully peeling off a black leather glove, he shot the man tethered to the chair a dour scowl before swiping a finger across the screen. Josh jammed a pistol against their battered captive’s temple assuring utter compliance. Blood dripped from the man’s swollen face, pooling in a small puddle between his feet. In the corner of the room, a woman stopped sobbing, offering nothing more than labored muffles as Dominic clamped a smothering hand over her nose and mouth.
“Yeah?” he asked sharply. Anger lent his voice a hard edge and pushed it above a raspy whisper. His brow furrowed, creeping ever lower across his darkening features as he listened to the brief explanation on the other end. He went to rub his hand over his chin and froze. The last thing he wanted at this point was some stranger’s blood on his face. Shaking his head in disgust, he struggled to get his temper under control. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. I appreciate the call.”
Sliding his phone back into his pocket with a growl, Sebastian crouched back down in front of the semiconscious man and tugged his glove back into place. “I don’t know if it’s your lucky day or not, but we are going to have to speed this process up, my friend.”
Josh shot him a questioning glance. His eyes flooded with worry. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” Lunging forward, he gripped the man’s jaw and sank his fingers in with a brutal squeeze. “Either you give us a name,” he whispered, “or we are going to put a bullet in your pretty wife’s skull. I don’t have the time or the patience to play anymore games with you, Travis.”
“You’re going to kill me anyway,” the man sobbed.
Sebastian cocked his head, his fingers tightening until the man cried out in pain. His eyes bore into the trembling male in his grasp. “Kill you? No, Travis, but I guarantee we will make you wish we had. The clock is ticking, make your choice.”
Josh snorted above him, lowering his gun. “I don’t think he really loves the Missus. He seemed more upset when we took out the family dog.”
Releasing the man’s face, Sebastian nodded. “Maybe we are going about this from the wrong direction. Either way, I am done, and so is she. Pull the trigger.”
Taylor fidgeted, squirming in the hard plastic chair in the holding room. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, but her butt was numb and she was pretty sure she knew every inch of the long metal table and painted concrete walls. The bright florescent lights reflected off the glossy surfaces and one-way mirror. Her legs bounced in a nervous dance beneath the table as she wrung the hem of her tee shirt. It hadn’t taken the men long to figure out who Sebastian was or place the call. The look on the older guy’s face when he hung up had said he doubted he’d done her any favors.
A state of shock enveloped her and she shivered with a combination of nerves and cold. She still couldn’t believe her cousin was capable of the things they were claiming. Bryce didn’t have enough brains in his head to figure out how to run that kind of operation and, at the risk of sounding callous, her uncle wasn’t exactly the world’s brightest man. Her brow furrowed as she replayed the scattered fragments through her head. Moonshining. Illegal still. Sales and distribution. There was just no way to wrap her mind around the magnitude of the situation, and despite it all, they were her family—her blood—and she clung to the overwhelming need to protect them.
Her head snapped up as the door swung open. Whatever relief she felt evaporated the minute she saw Sebastian. He stood poised in the doorway, his jaw knotting as he pinned her with a blistering stare. Her blood threatened to turn to ice in her veins as he regarded her with a slow, disgusted shake of his head. His features were as hard and unyielding as stone, even when one of the BATF agents stepped around him to unlock her ankles. She bit her tongue to keep from asking the man if he could just let her stay. Garbed in pure black from head to toe, Sebastian’s lean frame appeared even more imposing as he strolled across the room with his hands behind his back. Despite the military style boots, he moved without hitch or sound. Her heart hammered, and she resisted the urge to slink lower in her seat when he leaned over her.
“I have to say, this is a very unpleasant surprise.”
The agent beside her shifted uncomfortably. “We’re sorry about any inconvenience this may have caused.”
“No,” Sebastian stated quietly. “This is not your fault. I appreciate the courtesy call, and I assure you, nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Taylor shivered at the finality and promise in those words. Hanging her head, she refused to look at either one of them. Her strained swallow echoed loudly in the room as she prayed the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.
“The truck won’t be ready for another day or so, but she is free to go.”
Biting her lip, she held her breath as Sebastian’s silken voi
ce washed over her.
“You heard the man, Taylor. Get up.”
It took every ounce of effort and resolve she had to comply. Even then, her legs wobbled and threatened to give out beneath her. Peering over her shoulder, she looked back at the stoic agent behind her. Empathy shone in his hazel eyes, reflecting back at her for just a moment before he glanced away.
“I-I’m very sorry, sir,” she stammered.
She jumped as Sebastian’s fingers brushed across her nape in a light caress.
“Go get in the car,” he whispered, “and for your sake, I would sit in the back where I can’t reach you. We will finish this discussion at home.”
Her eyes closed as he kissed her temple and gave the top of her head an affectionate stroke. The sick knot coiled in her stomach seemed to creep up into her throat. Not wishing to test his patience and further, she made a quick escape. Josh’s warning echoed loudly in her head as she worked her way outside. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this was about as far off course as things could possibly get, and to say Sebastian was pissed was a definite understatement. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the handle on the car door. It took several tries, but she somehow finally managed to pull it open. Huddled in the backseat, she fought the overwhelming urge to cry or run for the cover of God knows where, but the fear of him hunting her down immobilized her. What the hell had Bryce gotten himself into, and why—why did he have to drag her into it?
Scalding tears blinded her vision as she twisted the hem of her tee shirt. Each agonizing minute stretched into an eternity as she held her breath and waited. After what felt like a year, the rear exit to the building finally opened. She tracked Sebastian’s progress with wide, fearful eyes, trembling as he glanced at her through the window to assure she’d followed directions and stayed put before sliding into the front seat of the Benz. Their gazes locked briefly in the rearview mirror before she quickly shifted hers away. It was going to be a long ride and yet, in many ways, she was sure it wouldn’t be long enough.