The place of comfort he’d found in her arms had vanished. Repeated nightmares and flashbacks had plagued him for most of the night and sent him reeling back to square one. He was tense, hateful, and bitter, his body still taut with pain and fury. Reconditioning was akin to having rabies. Everything triggered an overwhelming desire to hurt and destroy. The need burned beneath his skin where it festered like an unfed hunger. It took effort to pull himself back from his craving for murder and bloodlust, and every time it got harder and harder to lose.
By the time he’d decided that seeking their head of security probably wasn’t the best of ideas, it was too late. He spied the giant Cajun looming near the rear of the house, colorful Oakleys wrapped around his head, and prized assault rifle slung faithfully over his arm. For a moment, he pondered testing just how fast the man’s reflexes were but then quickly shook the idea. Replacing him would be more hassle than it was worth.
Frowning, Sebastian skimmed the perimeter. His body crawled with the unnamable discomfort someone felt when they were being watched and the sensation didn’t sit well with him. At all.
A wide grin stretched across Rupert’s face when he approached. The jagged scar stretching from his cheek to his chin whitened in its wake. “Good morning, Agent Baas. It’s good to have you home again, sir.”
Sebastian studied him for a moment. Despite himself, he couldn’t muster the willpower to return the man’s smile. He did manage a nod and a semi-polite twitch of his lips. “Thank you.”
“Pleasure’s mine, sir. Did you venture out here to enjoy the day?”
“Actually, there were a few matters I wanted to discuss.”
Adjusting his rifle strap, the head of security gave an agreeable bob of his head. “Sure thing, boss.” A worried frown flickered across his sturdy features. “I hope I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“That remains to be seen,” Sebastian said, turning to scan the tree line. “Did Taylor receive any visitors while I was away?”
“Just Ms. Monique and her children, sir.”
“Children. Plural?”
“Yes, sir. A little girl and a boy a bit older, maybe eight or nine. The age is hard to say seeing as I don’t have much experience with kids.”
Sebastian’s fingers bit deep into his wrists as he kept his hands locked behind his back. He tried to stem the tide of pain that rolled through him at the mention of his niece. Monique had brought her over knowing he wasn’t there. Anger threatened until he reminded himself that he was the one who’d made that decision. He’d made that sacrifice to protect his sister. Somehow, it didn’t make the news of her visit any easier to bear.
Losing Christian and then Mia, in her own way, had snuffed a little more light from his life. Light that he didn’t have to spare. The darkness of the reconditioning cell threatened to close in on him again. He gave his head a hard shake, trying to hold the shadows at bay. It was just one more in a long list of things SKALS had ripped away from him while his humanity hung on by a thread.
Rupert cleared his throat. “If that is a problem, sir, I will change the order immediately.”
It took effort to force his gaze back to the worried security guard. “No. My sister and her…children are always welcome. There were no other visitors, admitted or otherwise?” At the man’s negative answer, Sebastian studied the strip of fence he could see from his location. “Was there anything else out of the ordinary? Anything at all? Any people lurking outside the premises or milling outside the gates?”
“Everything was quiet, sir.”
“Too quiet?”
He could see Rupert’s brows draw together above his shades but he didn’t care if the big Cajun thought he was stark raving mad as long as he did his job. The man surprised him.
“Nothing confirmable, sir, but sometimes a prickle of unease is more reliable to a man than what his eyes can see.”
“What did you do about this prickle, Rupert?”
“I increased the frequency of the patrols and intensified mine. Nothing turned up.”
Sebastian’s jaw knotted. It wasn’t just him. The confirmation hit him like a punch to the solar plexus and the muscles beneath his eyes tightened in a suspicious twitch. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he scanned the woods flanking the backyard and gave a terse nod.
“If you see anyone out of place, you take them out. I don’t care if it’s the damn UPS man. No one outside of that list is to step one foot in this yard unless accompanied by me. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. Very.”
“That’s good to hear. My fiancée’s well-being is deeply tied to your own. Any harm that comes to her will come to you a hundredfold, and that is not a threat, Rupert. It is a promise.”
Words fled the normally vocal guard. His bronzed skin paled and he shifted his six-foot-four frame.
“Fair enough, sir. I won’t let you down.”
Sebastian nodded. “See that you don’t,” he warned before turning away.
He found Taylor dressed and waiting in the kitchen when he returned. She’d been lingering by the sliding glass doors, no doubt watching the entire exchange. His eyes narrowed for a brief second as he noted the worried look on her face. Did she feel the need to observe his every movement now as well? Or was it something Rupert might say that had her so afraid? Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed the thoughts away. Taylor could be innocent and, at times, a bit naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew if he didn’t kill her for cheating, he would make her damn well wish he had.
His eyes snapped to hers when the light brush of her fingers grazed his arm. The tenderness and sincerity in her expression lent him pause. Unable to help himself, he threaded his hand through the soft silk of her hair.
“Are you just about ready?”
She nodded, her beautiful grey eyes searching his. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. I was just checking on things.” A tight swallow strained his throat. “I heard you had a little visitor while I was away.”
Taylor’s face fell with a combination of pity and guilt. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”
“It’s okay. How is she?”
She tried to force a small smile for his benefit. “She’s good.” A long pause stretched between them as she weighed the benefits of elaborating. “She asked about you—a lot. Every five minutes, she wanted to know where you were and when you were coming home. We tried to distract her, but all Mia talked about was how much she wanted to play with her ‘Unco Sebby.’”
He bit the insides of his cheeks until it hurt. Even that didn’t dull the pain. The poor baby didn’t understand. Tears stung his eyes. Blinking them back, Sebastian reined his emotions in with a small sniff. His head cocked as Taylor pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her jeans and swiped her finger across the screen a few times, before handing over.
The images staring back at him were as precious of a gift as they were shattering. Thumbing through the gallery, he took in various pictures of his niece, her face always bright and smiling. When he came across the last one, an image of Monique and Mia together, their cheeks touching and their faces full of love, he understood. She was healthy and, more importantly, she was happy. Despite his own emotional anguish, whatever sacrifices he’d made for her and his sister were worth it.
Unable to speak, he returned the phone to Taylor’s back pocket. It took a long moment, but the lump obstructing his vocal chords eventually subsided. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much seeing those means.”
“I would do anything for you, Sebby,” she said, peering up into his face. “I love you. I just want to see you happy.”
“Do you have your list?”
She tugged a slip of paper from the front pocket of her jeans. It angered him seeing how loose the low riding denim hung on her hips. Tearing his gaze away, he read the items over before jerking his head toward the stairs.
“Go grab a belt before your pants fall off.”
Hurt registered across her face. “I didn’t lose that much weight.”
“No?” he asked. “Your clothes don’t fit and my hips are bruised. Neither of these things proves your point. Nor do they make me happy.”