Chapter 8

Little else about Sebastian’s day was giving him reason to smile thus far. Despite running late, he’d decided to make a quick stop at the auto repair shop where Taylor’s car had been towed. Eyes narrowed, he stared at the older gentleman stationed behind the service counter, waiting for answers. The man wasn’t much older than fifty, but the years had not been kind. Wrinkles lined his face in deep, eroded canyons and his skin was rough and weathered. Thin capillaries stretched like roadmaps beneath his reddened cheeks, a dead giveaway his person of interest was a heavy drinker.
 
The stench of stale cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air and, despite the fact that it was only eight in the morning, Sebastian could smell the lingering booze from where he stood. His lip twitched into a momentary curl of revulsion. People like Neil were weak. They rarely functioned and seldom bathed. They merely existed, shuffling through the motions of day-to-day life, but never really living. They were little more than slaves who were beaten down and driven by the whims of their demons.
 
Scraping a hand through his greasy hair, the shop owner sneered. The few remaining teeth he had left stood out against his gums in ragged, brown peaks. “You G-men sure are putting up an awful lot of fuss over a stupid car accident if you ask me.”
 
“Fortunately for both of us, Mr. Vant, I didn’t request to hear your opinion.”
 
Sebastian drew back with a grimace as the man sucked down a sharp hock of phlegm. Jabbing the countertop with a stubby finger, Neil’s watery brown stare clashed with his. “I want you outta my shop.”
 
“There is a simple enough solution for that,” Sebastian replied. “Tell me what I want to know and I will leave.”
 
“I don’t know nothin’!”
 
Shaking his head, Sebastian lowered his chin to his chest with a quiet laugh. “Yes. That much is becoming painfully clear.”
 
Muttering beneath his booze-fueled breath, the man waded out from behind the counter. Sebastian’s hand immediately shifted to the gun holstered at his hip. The movement brought the shop owner up short.
 
“Look…”
 
“Agent Baas,” he supplied.
 
“Yeah, whatever. I already told your partner everything I know.”
 
“That was him, not me. I have reasons for wanting this information, very personal reasons, and believe me when I tell you that you do not want to be the one standing in my way.”
 
“I can’t help you,” the man muttered, already starting to waddle his way toward the back of the shop. Angling his girth sideways, he began squeezing past the dilapidated stacks of boxes flanking the doorway.
 
“Do you have a family, Mr. Vant?” Sebastian inquired in a low and conversational voice.
 
The man froze, his shoulders stiffening before he spun. Fear flashed across his face. The brief spark ignited something dormant and a sudden vitality washed away some of the lifelessness in his muddy eyes. Sebastian’s smile was soft and unapologetic. Trailing a gloved finger along the grimy rim of the countertop, he strolled closer, his steps casual and slow.
 
“I know that you do. You have a daughter. Janet, I believe. She’s a single mother struggling to raise two boys on her own near the outskirts of Phoenix. Your wife, Rose…” He shook his head with a soft tsk. “She truly is a saint. She’s stood beside you for almost thirty years now despite your multitude of failures and drunken affairs. But perhaps she isn’t the best example to give,” Sebastian continued, inching closer, his gaze now honed on the trembling man. “I have serious doubts about how much a man loves a woman if he betrays her by taking his needs or affections elsewhere. Maybe we should discuss your mistress instead.”
 
“Stop it!” Neil yelled, his voice breaking. “Christ almighty! You twisted fuck! Just stop!”
 
Sebastian made no effort to mask his grin. The wide, dimpled smile only seemed to amp the man’s horror. Wide-eyed, he stumbled away, only to have his back collide with the dilapidated stack of boxes. Several of them toppled, sending a shower of yellowed papers and receipts into the air where they fluttered until landing against the chipped concrete floor. Cursing, the man dragged his shaking hands down his ruddy face. His eyes flickered to the mess at his feet.
 
“Leave them,” Sebastian ordered quietly. “Look at me, Neil. I need to know that we have an understanding.”
 
“Yes. Yeah, okay. I understand, but I don’t know what you want from me.”
 
“I want to know what sort of business you are running here. How is it that someone was able to just waltz into your shop and take my car, a vehicle that was registered under my name, without my consent?”
 
“You people are all the same,” Neil snapped. “You come in here, flashing your fancy badges and waving your dicks around while making demands. Here’s a novel idea for you, Agent What’s Your Face. Instead of wasting time terrorizing innocent civilians, why don’t you grab some crowbars, pry your collective heads out of your asses, and start to communicate!”
 
A frightened squall escaped the man as Sebastian lunged. Snatching him up by the front of his collar, he barreled Neil full force across the shop and slammed him against the wall. The man grunted in pain, the air leaving him in a shallow wheeze. Purpling, the shop owner writhed in his grasp as Sebastian twisted his collar and wrenched him up on his toes. Leaning in closer, he let his eyes drop into mere seething slits.
 
“Let me give you a valuable piece of advice,” he warned, tightening his hold until the gloves casing his knuckles strained. “Nobody talks to me that way. Least of all some degenerate drunk.” Leaning down, he issued a cold whisper against the man’s ear. “Never speak to me that way again. If you do, I will kill you. Are we clear?”
 
The man nodded mutely against his smothering hold.
 
“Good. I am going to let you down. When I do, you are going to tell me everything I want to know. If you insult me or refuse again, I am going to drag you into that back room and start ripping out your fingernails one-by-one. Understood?”
 
Another frantic nod followed.
 
“I can’t hear you,” Sebastian chided.
 
Neil’s affirmation came in a strangled choke. Releasing him, Sebastian smoothed the front of his uniform and leaned a hip against the counter. His face remained passive as the other man hit his knees, gasping and sputtering for air. Once the desperate hacking had finished, Sebastian straightened and offered an unrepentant smile.
 
“Who took my car?”
 
All traces of bravado fled the shop owner. His shoulders sagged, and for the first time that morning, he humbled himself in defeat. “I spent my whole life trying to avoid getting tangled up with the likes of you and here I am stuck in the middle of some sick fucking game of tug-o-war. It ain’t fair.”
 
“Life seldom is.”
 
“Yeah well it ain’t right the way you’re doing me,” he mumbled, his pudgy body shaking and strung-out with a mixture of anger and fear.
 
“My heart bleeds,” Sebastian stated flatly. Pulling his pistol, Sebastian cocked the safety and aimed at the man’s head. “Answer the question, Neil. I’m very tired of repeating myself.”
 
“I don’t know who it was! He came in here flashing a badge, same as you.”
 
“Give me a name.”
 
“I didn’t care to catch it, but he was a tall fellow. Real skinny with a pinched face and a beaky nose.”
 
That little tidbit caught his interest. Finally, it seemed the man had something worthwhile to say. Eyes narrowed, he tilted his head and pulled the folded pieces of paper out of his pocket. Shaking them open with one hand, he spread them on the counter and motioned Neil forward with his gun.
 
“Do you recognize him in any of these?”
 
The man selected the picture of Frank Burrel without any hesitation. His stubby finger jabbed at the image emphatically. “That’s him. That one right there,” he exclaimed.
 
If it weren’t for the cold prickle worming along his spine or the familiar burn starting to fester in his stomach, Sebastian would have been amused by the man’s sudden shift. Instead of spitting venom, the poor fool was grinning and damn near squirming with excitement, like a puppy seeking approval from its master. Smirking to himself, he resisted the urge to pat the man’s head and offer a bit of praise. The grease shimmering on those dull grey strands alone was enough of a deterrent.
 
His humor faded as his thoughts returned to Frank Burrel. He’d warned the gangly Ichabod Crane looking fuck to stay away from his family. Apparently, those precious words of advice had gone unheeded. After reholstering his gun, he flexed his fists, knotting them until the stiff leather gloves encasing his hands started to creak. Neil whipped around, his eyes wide and fearful, but Sebastian paid him no heed. Ignoring the man, he pointed to the pictures again.
 
“Do you recognize anyone else from these photos?”
 
The shop owner shifted, wavering on his feet. A strained swallow pushed past his throat as he lowered his head in an attempt to avoid Sebastian’s gaze.
 
“Answer me.”
 
“This man,” Neil whispered, indicating to a photo of Marx. “He came in after the other guy left. He’s the one who insisted I hand over the security tapes. When I refused, he busted my system and took them anyway.” Gone was the fire and fight. Gripping the ledge of the counter, the man kept his head lowered. “I don’t know who he was or what he wanted, but I am telling you the God’s honest truth when I say that man scared the ever living hell out of me. You might as well be the Devil himself as far as I am concerned, and your partner wasn’t no better, but that big bulky one…he damn near made me shit my pants.”
 
Sebastian’s lips quirked at the corners, but he was far from amused. His rage swelled, growing into a damn near smothering fury. There was shock, but beneath that was the bitter sting of deceit and betrayal. The wounds cut far deeper than he cared to admit. Straightening, Sebastian nodded and scrubbed his hand across the rough stubble coating his chin.
 
It took him another moment to calm down enough to find his voice. “Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Vant. Few people live long enough to make that mistake twice. Did you happen to pass this information about who you saw here and what happened to the security tapes along to my partner when he asked?”
 
Lifting his head, the man mustered enough courage to meet his eyes. “No, sir. There wasn’t no need. Your partner came in right when that other guy was leaving. They came in close enough together that I watched them tip their chins in greeting on their way past.”
 
Craning his head, Sebastian stared down at the shop owner, his need for vengeance rising. Josh knew Marx had been there. He knew what had happened to the tapes. More than that, he had lied to him, deceived him while staring him straight in his face. His fingers flexed at his sides, aching to feel the cold, familiar weight of his gun again. His chest felt like it had been doused in gasoline and whether he meant to or not, Neil had struck that match. His mind reeled while his body struggled not to wrench his pistol free and blow a gaping hole into the man’s face.
 
He wanted that. He needed that release.
 
He wanted blood.
 
He wanted suffering, but more than anything, he just wanted to make someone fucking pay. Gritting his teeth, he offered a cold, venomous smile.
 
“Consider this your lucky day, Neil. I’m going to let you live, but if I were you, I would pray that you never cross my path again.”
 
He didn’t bother waiting for an answer. The stark terror and death-like pall still haunting the man’s features was the only response he needed.
 
 
 
His mood hadn’t improved any by the time he pushed his way inside SKALS’ doors. There was always a grim somberness cloaking the building that blotted out the light and settled clear down to the depths of his bones. It filled him with rage and resentment just to be there. Disparity and dread filled every atom in the stale, chilly air. His mood only soured when he rounded the corner to see Marx pushing his way down the corridor and barreling his way. The wide berth of the commander’s upper body was hunched and lowered, and the look of discontentment stamping his face so severe that Sebastian wondered if he was going to charge. His gaze dropped to the man’s ham-sized fists and his stomach sank upon noting the way they were locked with rage.
 
He’d taken plenty of beatings from those wrecking balls over the years. Some deserved, some uncalled for, but none of them had ever been pleasant. Things had changed since then. He was no longer compliant. No longer a willing soldier, but smoldering with unspoken hatred and rage. That type of confrontation might very well be the last nudge needed to push him over the edge.
 
He stopped, lifting his chin to meet the director’s heated stare head on as his boss approached.
 
“Just where the hell have you been?” Marx asked, his voice a low, thundering growl.
 
“I had a quick stop to make,” Sebastian replied, striving to keep his tone even. “I was following up on an investigation.”
 
The commander’s ebony eyes narrowed in a chilling precursor to his snort. “Would this follow up of yours have anything to do with Jack Gill?”
 
“Who?”
 
“Don’t get cute with me, Sebastian. You know damn well who he is. He called your office this morning.”
 
A tingling numbness suffused his face. Steeling his jaw, he refused to let the turbulence show. Instead, he offered a passive shrug. “Did he leave a message?”
 
“No. He said he was tied up for the rest of the day and would try to get back to you tomorrow. Do you want to tell me what this little exchange is about?”
 
“I am assuming he has some questions about the shooting. How the hell should I know? If you are so damn curious, maybe you should have asked him yourself.”
 
The commander’s jaw jutted. His smooth, brown skin glistened with tiny drops of sweat despite the frigid blast of air-conditioning blustering down on them from the overhead vents. It was a telling sign of his anger. Then, without warning, his demeanor changed. His expression grew pensive as he stroked his thumb over the thin line of his moustache.
 
“Interesting. I would think after last night’s unpleasant debacle you would be more contrite.”
 
“I’d cut your throat if given half the chance, Marx. Don’t hold your breath waiting for me to kiss your ass.”
 
Much to his surprise, the man laughed.
 
“Still full of passion and fire, I see. You never disappoint me that way, Sebastian. Take a few minutes out of your day and follow me.”
 
He’d sooner saw off his own arm with a rusty butter knife, but seeing no other choice in the matter, he reluctantly complied. Keeping his steps slow, he followed Marx through the dim, twisted labyrinth of halls until they neared a door he knew all too well. It was Irene’s cell. The one place he’d tried to avoid at all costs. The dual guards stationed outside the room flashed him a brief look of pity and an unpleasant burn rose, searing the back of his throat. He had no desire to see the woman again, let alone witness the horrific side effects of whatever sick games Marx had decided to play.
 
He braced himself, watching as the commander smiled and turned to unlock the cell. Part of him hoped the bastard had grown tired of her company and the room would be vacant or occupied by someone else. However, he knew that wasn’t the case the moment Marx opened the door.
 
The smell hit him first. It was a potent, vile combination of fear, blood, and sweat. He grimaced, trying his damnedest to block it out, but it smelled as if something had died and been left to rot in the sun for weeks. Marx swung the door open and the heavy steel barrier scraped against concrete. The noise was akin to nails raking down a chalkboard and enough to send Irene scuttling. Her gaunt limbs flailed in their attempt to gain traction as she scurried across the floor. 
 
Keeping her back to them, she huddled in the corner, her pale skin glowing starkly against the dark cement walls. Vicious tremors wracked her emaciated form, each one accentuated by the loud chattering of her teeth. Sebastian stood rooted, watching her, all too aware of Marx’s assessing gaze as it tracked the reactions on his face.
 
He wanted to take some small measure of comfort from her condition. He wanted to take satisfaction from the welt and bruises marring her skin and the infections starting to fester beneath. He wanted to feel some sort of smug confidence that justice had been done, but all he felt was a truly disturbing wave of pity.
 
She’d grabbed his dick under his own dinner table. She’d humiliated him and thrown herself openly at his men. She’d hurt and betrayed Taylor, but even that wasn’t enough. She deserved to suffer for those things, but she didn’t deserve this.
 
“Now, now, pet,” Marx coaxed, his deep baritone laced with amusement. “I’ve taught you better than to run away from me. Is this any way to greet myself or Agent Baas?”
 
A low, mournful noise emanated from the corner of the room. Sebastian took an involuntary step back when Irene peeled herself away from the wall. 
 
The lacerations crisscrossing her skin had been bad enough, but her battered face brought another scalding wave of acid to his throat. The sharp ridges of her cheekbones were swollen, split from Marx’s heavy fists, and both sides were latticed with freshly made imprints from his hand. Thick bruises banded her neck and red and purple mottled the rest of her body in vivid bursts.
 
It took everything he had not to close his eyes. Steeling himself, he tried to think of her as nothing more than a target. Irene made that somewhat easier when she scrambled across the floor in an animalistic crouch and settled beside the commander’s feet. Without looking down, Marx absentmindedly stroked the top of her head, either oblivious to or unfazed by the dirt matted in her once vibrant copper tresses. 
 
Leaning into him, Irene tried to press her cheek to the man’s pant leg, but he callously booted her away, his thick lips hitching on a sneer.
 
“I’m sor-sorry, si-sir,” she choked.
 
“You should be,” Marx stated, “but you aren’t sorry, pet. Not yet.”
 
His stare swung to Sebastian with no warning. For a moment, he found himself stricken with a crippling stab of panic. He didn’t know why the man brought him here, or what he was expecting, but the look in the Marx’s eyes warned it wouldn’t be good. They were cold and empty, reflecting nothing. It was like staring into the blackness of a bottomless abyss.
 
“Relax, Sebastian. Much like you, I merely crave my girl’s affections whenever I’m away. She doesn’t look like much, but with time and some gentle coaxing, she’s learned to serve me and my needs quite well.”
 
His throat squelched with his swallow. He was going to be sick. He couldn’t even close his eyes to help combat the nausea. Between the sight and the smells, he was done.
 
“That’s wonderful,” he quipped. “Are we finished?”
 
“Not just yet. I saw the looks you and your lover exchanged last night and, after your reaction, one thing became very clear. That ring on her finger is much more than a means to lock her down and keep her mouth shut.”
 
Sebastian tensed. The familiar phrase smacked him across the face and threatened to fan his anger into a raging inferno that would destroy everything in its path. He’d only uttered those words once before—in the warehouse with Laychee. That son-of-a-bitch was dead, as were his men. He’d planted a bullet in Dominic’s skull. The only other person who would know what he’d said that night was Taylor, and she would never repeat it. The pain of what they’d went through that night was still too raw, too real. Neither of them wanted to relive that experience in any way.
 
Yet here he was, listening to the words he’d uttered in a desperate attempt to save her all over again.
 
Hatred burned, igniting like wildfire in his veins. Marx’s words were as good as a confession. The sweet, coppery tang of blood rolled across his tongue as he bit his cheeks. His fists balled and he forced his hands behind his back before he did something he would regret. Revenge would come. Of that much he was certain, but now was not the time or the place. If he shot the bastard now, the guards would never let him out of the room. He would die there, trapped in a cell with Irene. Not to mention the fact that a bullet was far too quick and painless a death. No, Marx was going to suffer long and hard for everything he had done.
 
“What is your point?” he forced himself to ask, his voice coming in a harsh rasp.
 
Marx reached down and stroked the top of Irene’s head with absentminded affection. A cruel gleam ignited in his eyes as she cowered at his feet. 
 
“I’ve decided to be generous. Your attachment to the girl is not without its benefits. You’re a hard one to tame, Sebastian, but perhaps your pet will give me the leverage I need.” Marx’s penetrating stare locked with his. “Is she expecting?”
 
It took effort not to flinch. The question hit him like a buckshot to the gut. Through reeling, he forced himself to stay calm, passive, and not strike out in anger or fear. It was growing harder by the second. 
 
“Of course not,” he managed, his voice barely civil.
 
“She’s a slender girl, Sebastian. Her stomach looked swollen. Despite her efforts to hide it, I noticed.”
 
“I told you she was ragging it,” he snapped. “She was fucking bloated. That doesn’t mean I knocked her up.”
 
Marx smiled. “Pity. While I’m not fond of the girl, it would be nice to know someone was carrying on your bloodline. I will let you keep your pet, for now, but you and I are going to reach an understanding. Her ass belongs to me, as just as surely as yours. She will uphold our standards and expectations. You will comply with me and do everything I ask, Sebastian, or I will drag you kicking and screaming into a world of pain. This,” he said, gesturing to Irene, “is nothing. This is mere play. Sooner or later, I will get tired of her and then…” he pointed to the trembling woman with his fingers and simulated pulling the trigger. “Bang.”
 
Sebastian glared back at him. It was killing him, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. Not without running the risk of getting them both killed. Marx was studying him, his soulless eyes searching for the slightest hint of emotion or betrayal, waiting for him to screw up or lash out in any way. Gritting his teeth, he spread his hands in a show of acceptance. There was nothing else he could do. He refused to die locked away in that room. Someday though, Marx would pay. Not just for threatening his family, but for his open acts of treason and betrayal. He’d given his life to this man, handed his conscience and soul over on a silver platter, only to have the cold knife of betrayal twisted and stabbed into his back again and again.
 
Hell itself was too kind a fate.
 
“I suggest you keep your family and your men in line, Sebastian. The nightmare the two of you endured at Laychee’s hands is nothing compared to the suffering that awaits her if you or your team disappoints me again. Is that clear?”
 
“Crystal,” he bit back.
 
“Good. Get your team together and grab your gear. We’re heading out.”
 
 
 
~*~*~*~
 
 
 
 
 
Taylor lingered at the doors leading out onto the back deck. Sebastian sat partially reclined in one of the lounge chairs with a heavy tumbler of scotch cradled in his hands. He’d barely said two words over the course of dinner and, even now, in a moment of relative privacy, his stoic expression lent little insight into his thoughts. Resting her head against the cool glass, she searched for a way to relieve the tension and silence brewing between them. He’d seemed so troubled the moment he walked through the door.
 
Now he was just distant and, as he watched the brushstrokes of the setting sun paint the sky, he looked sad. Frowning, she noted the slight tremble in his hand as he lifted the glass and tilted it against his lips. His eyes clamped shut for a moment and her heart ached as she watched him fight to hold whatever he was feeling at bay.
 
She battled with herself. Shutting down was Sebastian’s way of defending himself and, in ways, protecting her, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept or endure. His pain was hers. There was no way she could stand there and watch the man she loved tear himself apart.
 
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the screen door open. Sebastian tensed before turning slightly in his seat. His eyes locked with hers. Uncertainty played in those pale shamrock depths before giving way to silent questions and shame. The strong lines of his shoulders lowered and, without a word, he let his gaze drift back across the yard. Taking that as a cue to keep her distance, she watched the amber sunset play across his face. The deep golden light only added to his beauty. It accented the slight dents in his cheeks that framed his mouth and lit the unruly tumbles of his hair ablaze with rich highlights of auburn and honey. The strong lines of his jaw tensed, forcing his mouth into a condemning purse.
 
She felt a small smile lift to hers in response. It made him look haughty and almost regal. He wore the look often without even meaning to.
 
Her amusement faded when his expression tightened and his body seemed to curl in on itself with a small tremble. Hurrying to his side, she caught the glass just as it started to slip out of his hands. He shook his head and tried to ward her away with one hand as he pressed the fingers of the other tightly against his eyes. His shoulders jerked with a silent sob and her throat closed in on itself.
 
Dropping onto the lounger beside him, she hesitantly ran her hand down his back in a bid to bring him comfort.
 
“Don’t,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want you…” he trailed off and drew a juddering breath, “I don’t want you to see me like this. Just go back inside, Taylor. Please.”
 
“I can’t. I’m not leaving you like this, Sebastian. You’re hurting. I’m not asking you to tell me what happened,” she said. Running her hand over his back, she pressed her lips against the side of his shoulder. “Just let me be here for you.”
 
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
 
“Don’t shut me out,” she whispered against him. “We’re all each other has, Sebby. Please.”
 
Twisting away, he plowed a furious hand through his hair. His body jerked again. It was hard to say if it was a crazed laugh or another sob he tried to bury. “You’re not listening to me. You don’t get it, Taylor. I don’t need you to coddle me. I don’t need your comfort, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it. Do yourself a favor and get away from me.”
 
“No. You don’t mean that.”
 
He spun to face her and she jerked back, startled by the dizzying combination of raw pain and fury in his eyes. They damn near glowed, his light green irises made even more vivid by the hints of red blossoming throughout the whites. The muscles framing his cheeks knotted and gathered tightly beneath his skin as he clenched his teeth. Letting his eyes drift shut, he slowly turned his head away.
 
“I love you,” he stated, his voice strained. “More than anything in this world, but I can’t bear to look at you right now.”
 
His words struck a heavy chord of fear. Numb, she tried to shake the chill that crawled like a slow moving glacier in her veins. She searched frantically for reasons, explanations, anything at all that she could have done. She was grasping at invisible straws and, more than that, she felt like she was drowning. No matter how many breaths she drew, no matter how hard she tried, none of the air seemed to make it into her starving lungs.
 
Her hand shook as she lowered it into her lap. Bowing her head, she shielded her hurt behind the dark curtain of her hair. “Whatever I did to upset you, I’m sorry.”
 
He twisted around without warning, the fluid speed in his movements startling. Wide-eyed, she stared back at him while he snared her face between his hands.
 
“No,” he said, running a thumb over the slope of her cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This has nothing to do with you, baby. Do you hear me? This is all me. All of this…it’s all on me.”
 
It felt like someone had a death grip on her throat. Though meant to help, his assurances didn’t make her feel any better.
 
“It’s not though.” She finally managed to speak, but her voice was shaky and strangled. “It’s you and me, Sebastian. Whatever happens, we are in this together.”
 
She wished she could take the words back as soon as they left her mouth. The pain that crossed his face was devastating. His noble features twisted and crumpled. Clamping his eyes shut, Sebastian shook his head as if trying to lose the memory or the slow burn of her words. His expression remained pained.
 
“Don’t say that right now, Taylor. Please. I’m begging you. Don’t say that.”
 
She couldn’t take anymore. Whatever this was, whatever had happened, it was ripping him to shreds. Surging forward, she wrapped her arms around him. He braced against her and started to pull away, but she held on tight. Sebastian grew even more rigid, but as the seconds ticked by, he gradually started to relax. She sagged with relief the moment his arms lifted and he crushed her against him.
 
“You know I will always love you,” she whispered, trailing her fingers through his disheveled curls. “No matter what. I won’t push you, but if you need to, you can talk to me. I want to help you, Sebby. I would do anything to ease your pain.”
 
“I know, baby, but you can’t. You don’t know…the things that happened today…I can’t un-see them.”
 
Her blood quickened under the threat of danger, making her pulse thunder in her ears. She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to know what could possibly have him so unraveled, yet some secret part of her did. If only to help ease the fear.
 
“They were innocent, Taylor. Those people were innocent and he just…mowed them down. They were running. They were so scared and they were just trying to get away—to understand what was happening.”
 
His hold on her tightened, his grip crushing until it was hard to breathe. Resting her head against his, she kept stroking his hair, coaxing him, but letting him continue at his own pace. Sebastian trembled lightly against her, his breathing shaky and uneven. His eyes remained closed as he relived the nightmare playing in his head.
 
“They tried so hard,” he repeated, whispering. “It wasn’t right, Taylor. It wasn’t right. These people weren’t terrorists. They didn’t deserve that. He lied to the team and he used us to slaughter them.”
 
A heavy block of ice settled in her chest. The images flashing through her mind were far from pretty, and she felt her stomach twist. Holding him tighter, she tried not to imagine what that must have been like.
 
“I can’t do this,” he stated, backing the claim up with a gentle shake of his head. “Not if this is the way things are going to be. I just can’t.”
 
She didn’t know how anybody could, but she didn’t dare put those thoughts into words for the fear of making things worse. “I know, Sebby.”
 
“No. You don’t. How could you? That’s the thing, Taylor. That’s always been the biggest thing about all of this. I don’t want you to know these things about me. It kills me to think about you looking at me and ever seeing anything but love reflected in your eyes. I don’t want you to feel disgusted or ashamed to be with me.”
 
“Sebastian, I don’t.”
 
“How could you not?” he asked, pulling away and springing to his feet. “Jesus, Taylor. Are you even listening to me? We slaughtered a bunch of innocent people today. We killed kids. Does that make you proud? Does that make you want to go to bed with me? To carry my child and my name?”
 
She recoiled from the ferocity in his voice as much as his claims. Tears brimmed back at her, still unshed, as he raised his arms in silent question. Shaking her head, Taylor struggled to swallow past the lump wedged in her throat.
 
“I…” 
 
Shit. What in the hell was someone even supposed to say to something like that? 
 
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “There is a difference,” she stated softly, no longer able to meet his eyes.
 
“In what?”
 
“Between what you do for a living and you. I’m not blind, Sebastian. I know you’ve done some terrible things. But there is a difference between the man who’s doing his job and you. That man would never let his guard down, and he would never be able to look at someone with love in his eyes or treat them with kindness and compassion.”
 
He flinched at the last word, but she kept going.
 
“But you do those things, Sebby. You do them for me every day.”
 
He stared at her for a long moment. His mouth pursed, his lips whitening beneath the firm press. “I hate to break it to you, baby, but me and that monster are one and the same.”
 
“No. You aren’t.”
 
“I don’t care if you believe it or not, Taylor, that darkness is a huge part of me. It always has been.”
 
“That’s not true,” she whispered, rising to her feet and stepping forward to run her hands over his cheeks. “Not always. There is some goodness in you. There is some light. You try to keep it buried, hidden, from yourself and the rest of the world, but I see it Sebastian. It’s in there. That’s why you’re torn up and hurting.”
 
“Stop it. I’m not hurt. I’m pissed and you’re just talking in circles, Taylor. A person can’t be both, so which is it? Am I good man or a bad one?”
 
She lowered her eyes. Her heart tightened with sorrow and conflict as varying explanations flittered through her mind. How did she put into words the complexity and mystery that comprised him? Try as she might, there was no defining Sebastian. 
 
“Look at me,” he commanded with a forceful tug of her hair. “I want an answer, Taylor.”
 
Shivering at the hard edge creeping into his voice, she forced herself to meet those intense shamrock-colored eyes. He snared her jaw and held her gaze. An impatient growl rumbled through him and Taylor’s heart stutter stepped as the air in her lungs started to burn.
 
Wetting her lips, she finally mustered a response. “You’re you, Sebastian. I can’t describe it. You’re a mixture of everything—passion and poison all rolled into one. You can be cruel and heartless one moment, and incredibly sweet and vulnerable the next. There’s seldom any middle ground with you. You swing from one side to the other with little or no warning. I never know what to expect or what side of you I’m going to get.”
 
His fingers sank deeper into the lines of her jaw and he wrenched her head to the side, allowing him access to her neck. Sharp teeth and stubble plied her sensitive skin as Sebastian ground his hips against hers, his arousal hard and menacing between them. Surging forward, he backed her against the house, trapped her wrists beneath his powerful hands, and pinned them to the bricks.
 
“Which side of me is it that you are wanting now, Taylor?” he growled against her ear. “You wanted me to let you in, now here we are. The good the bad, you get it all. Are you regretting that now? Do you think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?”
 
Her heart hammered faster. A tiny voice in the back of her mind screamed ‘yes’ and all but begged for her to stop fueling the fire before it was too late. Another part clung to the uncertainty and danger he offered. Fear was an intoxicating drug when mixed with desire.
 
“Answer me,” he rasped, yanking her head back until her body bowed against him.
 
There was no softness now, no playfulness easing the hard lines of his handsome features. Stilling, Taylor forced herself to meet the savage intensity of his eyes.
 
“No,” she whispered.
 
His head tilted ever so slightly. A cruel smile threatened. “No?” he questioned, brushing his thumb across her lip. “You know you are playing with fire here, sweetheart. Aren’t you afraid you are going to get burned?”
 
“No. Your punishments might hurt, but you’d never cause me harm. There is a difference.”
 
“Interesting,” he mused softly. “But you are basing your assessment on the past. Who is to say that won’t change?”
 
“It won’t because you love me.”
 
“I do,” he agreed. “But has that love spared you from me before?”
 
“No. It hasn’t, but you would never do anything to jeopardize my life. Especially not now.”
 
The corners of his mouth tightened in response. “Are you really so confident about where you stand with me?”
 
Holding his stare, she refused to back down. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be?”
 
He kept her pinned, his expression unwavering. The seconds stretched by into a full minute as his pale eyes held her as hostage as his hands. Releasing her, he straightened with a stiff nod. “I am glad you finally understand your value in my eyes. It’s about time you learned that lesson.” His fingers skimmed the underside of her chin. “Perhaps it’s time you learn another one as well. Go inside.”
 
“Seb, I…”
 
He clamped a hand over her mouth with a hard shake of his head. “No more talking. Do as I say.”
 
She levered to her feet and made the slow trek through the house, her heart pounding as she climbed the stairs. His thoughts were too veiled, his actions too hard to read. Maybe it hadn’t been so wise to push him, even if it had been done with the intent to bring him comfort.
 
“Strip,” he ordered, not waiting to see if she complied.
 
That much was expected.
 
Numb, Taylor peeled out of her clothes, watching with an odd combination of curiosity and dread as Sebastian disappeared into the vast confines of their walk-in closet. Time hung suspended with her fate weighing in the balance. She heard the telltale jingle of metal clang on the other side of the wall and her eyes drifted shut in a wordless plea. Her pulse became a violent hammer. It roared, crashing through her veins like a surging ocean tide. Hearing the soft whisper of his feet move across the carpet, she lifted her head to watch Sebastian stalk toward her in a deliberate and predatory prowl.
 
Sure enough, a thick leather strap dangled from his hand along with two silk ties. Her muscles cramped and tensed as he pointed to the foot of the bed. Panic threatened and she tried to force herself to comply.
 
“I’m not going to ask again. Move, Taylor, or I will assist you.”
 
His callous tone warned that was a not a mistake she wanted to make. Her arms trembled beneath her as she crawled to the foot of the bed, careful not to meet his gaze. It was best not to look a rabid animal in the eye, lest they mistake the gesture as a challenge. Without a word, Sebastian grabbed her hands and pressed her wrists together on either side of the thick wooden post at the foot of their bed. She winced, fighting the urge to pull back when he wound one of the ties around her wrists before looping it through the belt and cinching it off tight. The move gave her just enough leeway to rock back onto her knees, but no wiggle room to escape. After testing the strength of the restraint, he wrapped the other tie around her eyes, casting her into blindness.
 
“Do I need to gag you as well?”
 
Fighting back the tears that threatened behind the blindfold, Taylor offered a mute shake of her head. She couldn’t help but worry if he was asking out of necessity or just the mere desire that she submit to his whims and obey.
 
“That’s a very good thing, Taylor. See that you stick to those claims. The only time I want to hear anything come out of your mouth is if I ask you a question or if you believe I am endangering our baby. Is that clear?”
 
“Yes, Sebastian.”
 
She felt, rather than saw, the cold smile he offered in response. His fingers trailed lightly over the bared arch of her spine as he leaned down and the warm, woodsy smell of his skin washed over her.
 
“Good girl,” he breathed, whispering the endearment against her ear. He paused long enough to kiss against the outer shell, the contact enough to make a wave of goose bumps ripple across her skin. “Perhaps I should keep you like this for a while,” he suggested. “It would give you time to consider your actions and ponder the wisdom in disobeying me. You know better, Taylor. I warned you to stay away. Perhaps you think your love has weakened me or softened me to the point where I’ll no longer crack down on you if you choose to defy me.”
 
The fragile hold she had on herself crumpled. Warm tears soaked into the silken tie covering her eyes as the last of her resolve slipped away. Her lips trembled with her efforts not to beg. Sensing this, Sebastian gave her a small measure of reprieve.
 
“Is that what you want, Taylor? Is that the direction we are headed?”
 
She shook her head in frantic denial. “No, Sebby. I swear…just please…”
 
“I’m very glad to hear that, darling. I would much rather bring you pleasure, but if hurting you is the only way to save you from yourself and my sins, then that is a step I’m willing to take.”
 
Shivering, she tugged against the restraints and tried not to jerk away from the sudden scald of his hand as it trailed over the curve of her hip. The mattress dipped behind her and she felt the long, velvety steel of his erection push between her legs. The raised ridge of his cock brushed against her, bringing a sudden jolt of pleasure. It was sick the way her body responded to him, but there was no way to fight it. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she arched into him and bit back a moan.
 
A stinging slap to the outside of her thigh stilled her and she jerked against the ties with a startled yelp. A quiet rumble of amusement rolled through Sebastian as he leaned over her. She whimpered as his heavy fist anchored in her hair and wrenched her head back.
 
“I love the way your body responds to me, but don’t get greedy. This isn’t about you. It’s about pleasing me. If I were you, I would find a way to start doing that, sweetheart, or things are going to get very unpleasant.”
 
She mulled that over for a long second. Panic sabotaged her thoughts, rendering her mind useless. He’d robbed her of speech and cautioned against her moving into the tormenting glide of his body. What else was she supposed to do?
 
Leaning forward, Taylor rested her cheek against the mattress. The angle lifted her hips higher, allowing him more access, but put a slight strain on her arms. Sebastian tensed, his grip tightening on the ridge of her hipbones when she tried to edge forward to relieve the pressure on her shoulders.
 
“Where do you think you are going, Taylor?”
 
She shivered as his icy whisper swept over her. “I was just…I…”
 
“Were you trying to get away from me?” he asked.
 
“No. My shoulders are starting to hurt,” she mumbled.
 
Much to her surprise, he snaked a sturdy arm around her waist and helped her ease closer to the edge of the bed. His lips plied the sensitive spot behind her ear. Nipping, he then eased the sting with a kiss.
 
“Get comfortable,” he ordered.
 
She shifted her weight, wishing she could peer at him over the scape of her shoulder, see his face, and gauge his mood. His actions were baffling. She didn’t have time to ponder them. Sebastian wedged her thighs apart and drove his cock deep with a powerful lunge of his hips. The intrusion was swift, stretching and stuffing her so fully that she mustered little more than a breathless scream. Sebastian seized a thick fistful of her hair and started pounding into her. Her back bowed with his hold, driving her into his momentum. It was hard, fast, brutal, and dirty, but it felt good. So good.
 
Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the animalistic rhythm and the soothing balm of pain. There was beauty in the violence. A sweet, torturous agony that made her body shudder and sing. His ruthlessness and her surrender tied their souls together, making the circle complete. The borders between pleasure and pain formed their battleground. It was the place where they fought and found each other when everything else around them was coming unraveled and undone.
 
She cried out, bucking against the restraints as he picked up the pace. Reaching around the front of her, Sebastian rubbed and twisted her clit. Growling, he ground it hard against her pelvic bone, his fingers stroking and gliding with every savage lunge of his hips. The pulsing throbs grew stronger, his touch more insistent and demanding. A strand of incoherent words left his lips, the sound nothing more than a low guttural growl that vibrated through her senses, pushing her closer to the edge. She fought to hold on, wanting to make the moments last, but it was too much. Her body was too eager, her flesh too willing and hungry to comply.
 
Her climax barreled through her, the implosion so fierce she couldn’t even cry. Her mouth opened and closed around a soundless scream. Sebastian snarled in pleasure as her body clamped around him. His fingers tightened into a bruising press and his cock stabbed so fast, hard, and deep it wrested her breath away.
 
Moments later, he arched into her, his voice hoarse as he roared in triumph. He kept her impaled, offering no quarter as he surged even deeper against her womb. Closing her eyes, she savored the thrill that ran through her each time he came. It was a powerful and humbling feeling to know she brought him to that point. To know that she, too, had the ability to render him so breathless he could no longer move or speak.
 
It took him a few seconds, but he finally eased out of her. Leaning down, he kissed a slow path up her back before reaching up to undo the ties. Her arms shook as he pulled her against him and slowly rubbed the outsides of her wrists with his thumbs. His eyes searched hers as he eased her down onto the pillows and ran a gentle hand over the side of her face. She tried to muster a smile through the exhaustion. Though sated, her limbs now felt heavy and forged from lead.
 
“I hope that was what you wanted,” she whispered.
 
“Mm. It was, darling,” he assured, stretching out beside her. “Everything I wanted and more. Damp sheets and sweat be damned, I’m too tired to move.”
 
She smiled against his skin. “Do you want me to get you a washcloth or something so you can clean up?”
 
He buried his nose in her hair with a small shake of his head. “No. We’ll grab a shower later. I don’t want to think anymore and I don’t want to move. You’re the only thing that’s keeping me grounded,” he said quietly. “I need that right now. Just stay here and hold me for a little while.”