“I miss us.”
A small smile quirked the corner of his lips, but his nod seemed sad.
“I miss us too, baby. Soon,” he promised. “Just a few more hours at most. They’re going to want to clear you before we go.”
Taylor bit her lip and nodded. She winced at the faint soreness lingering beneath the surface and ran her tongue in experimentation over the thick line of a scar. Her heart sank and she hung her head, wondering what other ugly reminders her body and face bore. She’d never felt worthy enough of Sebastian in the first place. He was handsome, yes, but there was so much more. He was commanding and magnetic—the type of man who walked into a room and turned everyone’s head. Men, women, it didn’t matter. Everyone could sense they were in the presence of something dangerous and different, but everyone wanted to draw closer. Just like that poor man in the bookstore. He’d tried so hard to make conversation and be a part of their world, if only for the moment.
A worried frown lined her face as she wondered how long it would be before that was her.
Twisting the sheet, she glanced up at him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Sebastian tore his attention away from the door. His head whipped around and he pinned her with a bewildered stare. “What?”
“I just…I tried to fight them and get away. I didn’t tell them anything, I swear.”
The light in his pale eyes dimmed, and a wounded expression flickered across his face. His swallow seemed to echo through the room as he lay a gentle forefinger across her lips. “Shh, Taylor, not now. We’ll talk about it when we get home. I have some things I need to say, but I want to wait until both of our heads are clear.”
She let out a shaky breath and nodded. It was all she could do. His mood was too veiled, too unreadable, to keep pushing. Her chest tightened and ached when Sebastian’s focus returned to the door. The well-defined muscles in his lean form shook with tension. She wondered if it was her or their surroundings that put him so on edge. Her mind spun, recalling the dim corridors Marx had wheeled her through and the imposing insignias on the walls. The prison-like stretch was terrifying enough without thinking about things like reconditioning or interrogation. A cold chill flooded her veins.
“Sebastian?”
“Yes?”
She chewed the corner of her thumbnail, searching for the right words. A blush crept over her cheeks, warming them, as he turned to face her and pushed her hand away from her mouth with a look of soft reproach.
“Stop doing that. You’re going to ruin your teeth.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper. “I don’t like it here.”
Sighing, he scooted lower on her bed and wound his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. “Just close your eyes and try to relax, Taylor. I’m right here. Everything is going to be okay.”
“I swear I didn’t say anything, Sebastian. Marx knows that, right? He’s not mad at me?”
“Shh,” he soothed, trailing his fingers through her hair. “Baby, please. Just calm down and be quiet. We’ll talk about everything later. I promise.”
Nodding, she rested her head on his chest, savoring the heat that radiated through his tee shirt and the slow, steady beat of his heart. The warm, familiar scent of his body threatened to unravel the fragile hold she had on her emotions. Seeing him and holding him, were something she’d thought she’d never get to do again. It made the simple moments like these feel even more precious, and she swore she would never take the little things in life for granted again.
Content, she slid her hand over the flat plane of his stomach and traced the firm ridges of his abdomen beneath his shirt. His lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile before he buried his face in her hair. Threading his fingers through hers, he dragged her hand away and placed it against his chest, still keeping their fingers locked.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered. “More than you know.”
He tensed and sat up when the metal door swung open without warning. Taylor winced, her heart leaping into her throat in a frantic flutter as she felt Sebastian’s grip tighten and Marx’s broad shadow fell across the room. The director regarded them both with a terse expression that contrasted the warm, welcoming glow of his chocolaty skin beneath the lights.
“I’m sorry to break up this tender little exchange, but I’m sure you would like to go home.” His lips stretched into a tight smirk as his stare settled on Taylor. “As much as we’ve all enjoyed having a pretty face around here, my hospitality is starting to wear thin.”
She shivered, pressing closer to Sebastian. His rigid body trembled ever so slightly against hers. The firm set of his jaw and cold gleam in his eyes left no doubt that it was rage, not fear, making him quake.
Marx indicated toward the door with a curt nod of his head. “The doctor is waiting to give you your all clear.”
Sebastian patted her arm and eased her away from his side. She was grateful when he rounded the bed and pushed close, planting himself squarely between her and the burly director. The heat of his hand on the small of her back offered reassurance as he led her toward the door.
“You’re a very lucky woman, Miss McAvay. I hope you realize that,” Marx said, stopping them both.
She turned, reluctantly peering over her shoulder.
“Few men love anything enough to confront me about it, let alone point a gun in my face,” he explained. His expression was flat and devoid of emotion as his dark eyes bore into her. “Appreciate what you have.”
Her brow furrowed as the two men exchanged a look she couldn’t quite decipher. It was hard to say if it was respect or an unspoken challenge. Swallowing against the lump of fear in her throat, she took comfort from his words and nodded.
“I do, sir, very much. Thank you for all of your help.”
The big man chuckled. “I’m sure you realize this was for Sebastian’s benefit, not yours. That said, it was my pleasure. Thank you for choosing SKALS as your vacation destination. Try not to make it through our doors again.”
Thrown off by his sick humor, she offered a polite nod.
“One more thing, Miss McAvay. I’m sure Sebastian will reiterate this fact for you later, but you would do well to never mention this place or what happened that night again.”
Lifting her chin, she met his fathomless stare with as much courage as she could muster. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
His laugh rolled through the room. “So she still has a bit of spirit after all. That’s good to see. Get her out of here, Baas.”
Chapter 16 ~
Sebastian’s stomach clenched as he eased the Benz to a stop outside the gates. Gates that had proven useless in keeping the wrong people out. The light lunch they’d grabbed on the way home threatened to resurface. Home was usually such a welcome sight, but this time he wasn’t so sure. What would they be walking into? Laychee’s men had violated the sanctity of his home. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the physical reminders of that night any more than Taylor must be. Steeling himself, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. As troubling as his thoughts were, he could only imagine what was going through her mind.
Whatever she was feeling, she hid it well. Her expression was stoic, her attention rooted straight ahead. Sebastian frowned. She was usually so easy to read. He didn’t like this newfound wall between them.
After rolling down the window, he accessed the digital scanner and typed in the new security code he’d given Josh. He sighed. The upgraded system was just the beginning in the long list of things he was going to have to fix or change.
The moment he nosed the Benz through the gates, the new security team swarmed. His eyes narrowed as a beast of a man approached the driver’s side window and greeted him with the business end of a rifle. Beside him, Taylor shifted and flattened against the back of her seat. Fear clearly branded her features as her wide stare raked o
ver the unfamiliar assembly of armed men circling the car. His temper surged.
“Get that fucking thing out of my face,” he warned.
“I’m sorry, sir. No unauthorized personnel allowed,” the man responded in a smooth, voice that carried a hint of a Cajun drawl.
Sebastian lowered his head and shook it with a humorless laugh.
“This isn’t funny, sir. I’m telling you right now that you have until the count of three to turn around.”
“And I am telling you to get that gun out of my face before I make you eat it. This is my house.”
Doubt twisted the large man’s face. His Southern accent seemed suited to his six-four plus frame. Though not heavily muscled, he was solid, and the thick scar tracing the contour of his eye down the curve of his jaw assured he’d seen the face of Hell a time or two and lived to tell the stories. But it was the glint in his blue eyes that promised he was serious. He cast a quick glance toward the house while Sebastian silently assessed the man’s performance.
“I’m going to have to see some ID.”
Leaning forward, he fished in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Suit yourself.”
The man studied both him and picture carefully before offering a respectful nod and stepping back. He shouldered his rifle strap and flashed a hesitant smile. “My apologies, sir. One never can be too careful. Welcome home, Special Agent Baas. I’m Rupert, but mostly people just call me Treck.”
“I can see why,” Sebastian said, returning his billfold to his pocket. He fixed his attention on the guard. “I am going to assume that you are my new head of security, Rupert.”
The man’s shoulders straightened with his nod. “Yes, sir, I am.”
“Good. Understand this: I appreciate your effort and competence, but if you ever point a loaded weapon in my face again, you’ll meet the same ill fate as my last security team.”