Inferno

by Adriana Noir

  “That may be true, but as you can see, there is a definite difference in results. If I wanted your fiancée dead, she would be. I don’t make mistakes, Sebastian, and my work is not that shoddy. Perhaps you should have taken her questionable driving record into account before buying the woman a car.”

  Uncoiling his fingers, Sebastian stroked the pistol holstered at his thigh, the weighted metal both cold and reassuring beneath his touch. “Maybe,” he stated softly. He refused once again to look the director’s way, but he kept a careful eye on the man’s muscled bulk in the window’s reflection. “If that is the case, you will be willing to help me find out who is responsible for this. I want answers, Marx, and I’m not stopping until I find them.”

  “I suggest you focus your attention on the task at hand.”

  “I’ve been looking for James. I have always done everything you’ve asked of me. I hardly think this is asking for too much in return.”

  “You didn’t report for work for two days. Am I supposed to be impressed by this performance?”

  Sebastian bristled and the already perilous hold he had on his temper started to slip. It had always been like this with Marx—a constant battle of push and pull. Only this time, the barbs cut deep and burrowed beneath his skin. Some things, once unearthed, could not be covered or contained again. Turning, he met the larger man’s condemning stare.

  “That may be true,” he countered in a venomous whisper. “And I am sure Josh filled you in on where I was, but that wasn’t necessary, was it? You knew damn well where I was. You knew what happened to Taylor. You knew she was laying in the hospital, possibly dying, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. Now?” He gave a coarse laugh. “Now you refuse to help me look into things? What am I supposed to think here?” he asked, casting his arms open.

  “This isn’t a fucking democracy and we don’t lend out helping hands. Get your head in the game and stop focusing your efforts elsewhere. I don’t care where you like to bury your dick or how good she is in bed. I’m not wasting company time or resources on your whore. If you’d kept your damn pet under foot where she belongs instead of letting her run around with your security guard, none of this would have happened in the first place. If you want answers, Agent Baas, I suggest you take a long, hard look in the mirror. Your home life is lax, your team is in shambles. Pull them both together or I swear, with God and country as my witness, I will rip them both away.”

  That was all it took. The fragile hold he had on himself unraveled and snapped. Hands hooking, he reached for his gun and lunged. One of the guards stationed between them sprung to Marx’s defense and a hard shove sent him staggering backwards. Before he could react, another lowered their weapon and flung their arms around him, trying to wrestle him to the floor in a constrictive restraint. A second quickly joined the fray.

  The threat of lockdown and reconditioning bore down on him, adding to his panic and anger.

  “Get the fuck off me!” he roared, struggling to break free.

  A hard strike with the crown of his head sent one of the guards stumbling. Fighting against the stab of pain and blindness it inflicted, Sebastian threw a fierce elbow, stunning the other. Still dazed by the hazy cloud lingering in front of his eyes, he jerked his pistol free. The cold click of the safety ricocheted through the room as he stumbled back, swinging the barrel between the two men. The first only managed a step in his direction before the Desert Eagle’s blast roared like a cannon and blew the man’s chest open. Trapped in the same lethal sights, the partner froze, hesitation and terror evident in the wide flare of his eyes.

  The doors to his office burst open and Sebastian whirled, his gun swinging in his grip. Thrown off balance by a sudden surge from behind, he sprawled belly first across the floor with a frantic guard on top of him. Black swarmed around him. Bruising fingers bit into his hands and arms, struggling to pin them down and pull his gun free. Sebastian relinquished it with little fight. The gesture threw them off enough to lend them pause. Cashing in on their distraction, he wrenched the knife sheathed against his thigh free and whipped his head back. The back of his skull connected with the other man’s face with a sickening crack. Warm liquid cascaded down his neck. Its coppery tang flooded his nostrils, heightening his instincts. It was the fuel he needed.

  He rolled with the guard on top of him, fighting in a struggling frenzy of arms and legs. A rifle butt connected with the side of his temple in warning. Darkness threatened, blacking out the world in front of his eyes, but he wrenched up with all his might. The blade met resistance at first but stuttered past the barrier of bone and sank deep into the man’s chest. Sebastian’s own heaved as he pushed against the crushing weight, his face purpling with exertion and anger.

  “BAAS!” Josh’s panicked voice joined the fray.

  Before he could seek his partner, the business end of an assault rifle slammed against his temple hard enough to rattle his teeth. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself as the barrel prodded deeper. Stilling, he regarded the flushed man looming over him. The guard’s face set with determination and his wide shoulders tensed as his finger tightened around the trigger.

  “That’s enough,” Marx ordered. His voice was quiet but firm. “As displeasing as it is, I need Agent Baas alive.” The director remained inclined against his desk with his arms folded, but a pleasured gleam illuminated the dark pits of his eyes making them shimmer beneath the lights. “You have one of two choices here, Sebastian. Either drop this ridiculous rampage or I will go to the hospital right now and put a bullet in your lover’s skull. Which is it going to be?”

  His chest heaved as he closed his eyes and forced his heart rate to slow. It took several seconds before he managed to pull himself together enough to speak.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I had no doubts you were,” Marx countered. “But that wasn’t the question.”

  “I’ll stop,” he growled, still struggling for breath between clenched teeth.

  “Good to hear. Lower your weapon and let him up.”

  The guard above Sebastian hesitated. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but he slowly eased the rifle away. Taking a step back, he kept his finger curled around the trigger as Sebastian grunted and struggled to his feet. Ignoring the man, he resheathed his knife and tugged his bloodied uniform back into place, still fighting with the heaviness of anger and exertion crushing his chest.

  Marx smirked as his steady gaze swept over the carnage. “It looks like I need to find some replacements,” he said, rising to his feet. “Those expenses will come out of your pay as well.”

  Sebastian bit his tongue. He didn’t give a damn about the money and Marx knew it. It was just another way to try to needle him and crawl under his skin. The silence was thick between them and his heart hammered as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

  “I find this display of emotion deeply troubling to say the least.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, Baas has--”

  “Did I ask for your input, Agent Reevers?” Marx snapped, interrupting him.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then do yourself a favor and get the hell out!”

  Sebastian felt his lip curl in response. Grinding his teeth, he watched his partner cast a worried glance in his direction and reluctantly leave, dragging his feet as he went. Marx stared after him, shaking his head in disgust, before turning his attention back to Sebastian.

  “Do you see where this path will lead you, Agent Baas? Your men, for the most part, are loyal. Much like your family, they will follow you blindly. Think twice about the steps you take and where they might lead.”

  A sickening burst of copper flooded his mouth as he sank his teeth into his cheeks. Little did the bastard know he’d managed to think of little else over the past few days.

  “Tell me something,” Marx said, circling closer as he adjusted his silver rings.

  His stomach rolled in a bout of uncertainty and regret. What would happen to Taylor if Marx locked him down? He shook
, his breathing still labored, as he struggled to calm himself down. As terrifying as the notion was, it wasn’t in his nature to buckle or cave. Tracking the man with his eyes, he stood his ground, refusing to grovel or beg.

  “Do you consider yourself a fortunate man, Sebastian?”

  He pondered that, still uncertain of the man’s game. “In some aspects, yes,” he replied evenly.

  Marx responded with a curt nod. “As well you should. I shouldn’t just lock you down. I should exterminate you for the stunt you just pulled. You are beyond fortunate that your precious little whore is laid up in the hospital right now, because if she wasn’t I would have one of my men yank her in here so damn fast your head would spin. If you ever pull that rabid dog routine again, I guarantee you that is exactly what will happen. Do I make myself clear?”

  His heart seized in his chest. Of all the things the man could have said to him, of all the things he could do, that was the worst. The poisoning sear of rage scalded him from the inside out, burning like napalm in his veins. Out of instinct alone, his eyes raked over the floor in search of his gun only to come up empty. Another effective blow. He drew one deep breath and then another, forcing himself to simmer down and swallow what little remained of his pride.

  “Yes, sir. Crystal,” he ground through clenched teeth.

  “Excellent. I am glad we’ve reached an understanding. That said, I highly suggest you pull yourself together and prove me right in that assessment. Though they wouldn’t be nearly as competent, there are plenty of other men willing to do your job.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he growled.

  Shooting the bodies sprawled across the floor a brief look of contempt, Marx smoothed his uniform. “Take the rest of the afternoon off. I expect to see you back here tomorrow. Hopefully by then you’ll have your head on straight.”

  His eyes narrowed at the lack of time, but he said nothing.

  “Inform Reevers you’re leaving and get someone to clean up this mess,” Marx ordered with a hint of disgust.

  Dragging his bloody hands through his hair, Sebastian watched the commander leave. Once alone, his pale gaze riveted on the guard lingering to his left.

  “You heard the man,” he bit out coldly. “Get them out of here and get out of my sight.”

  “Sir…I…”

  Sebastian cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I’m not interested in your apologies. If you ever point a gun at my head again, someone will be scraping you off the floor as well. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Extremely.”

  Shooting him a dour look, Sebastian shouldered past and made his way into the corridor. Josh was lying in wait. His partner immediately sprung off the wall, his blue eyes wide and bewildered.

  “Jesus, Baas,” he said, lifting his hands in a precursory search. “What the hell happened in there? Are you okay?”

  Sebastian batted him away without losing stride. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I’m grabbing a shower and going home. You’re going to have to take things over until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Josh jogged a few steps to catch up. Worry and disbelief crawled across the creases lining his brow. “Are you serious? That’s all the time he’s giving you?”

  “Does it look like either one of us are in the mood to joke around?”

  “No, Baas. It doesn’t.” Josh scrubbed a hand across his jaw and shook his head. “Jesus. I know the guy is an ass sometimes, but that’s a bit ridiculous. Is Taylor even going to be out of the hospital by then?”

  Sebastian froze, causing his partner to stumble beside him. As much as he tried to keep his temper under control, he could feel the venom etch his features. Josh flinched, seeing the same.

  “Did you really expect anything different, Josh?” Drawing a deep breath, he reminded himself that none of this was his partner’s fault. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I don’t know. All I know right now is they want to keep Taylor a few more hours for observation. There’s a lot going on and I don’t have any answers.”

  “What can I do, Baas?”

  “You can start by finding her car. This wasn’t an accident.”

  “Wait…what?” Josh said, fumbling to grab his arm. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Someone tampered with her car. From the sounds of it, they punched the brakes as well. I want that vehicle swept from top to bottom for prints, fibers, anything that will get me some answers.”

  “Yeah, okay, buddy. You got it.”

  Sebastian thumped his shoulder in a brief show of gratitude. Josh’s voice halted him halfway down the hall.

  “Hey—do you want me to call Mo and see if she will sit with Taylor for a few days?”

  He paused and mulled the offer over. As convenient as it would be, he didn’t want his sister on the road by herself. Not until he had a better idea of what was going on and who was behind it. “Not yet. Until we find out what happened, it would be best if you saw to it that she stayed home. I’ll call you later.”

  *~*~*

  Taylor breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the garage door rolled shut behind them. As heavenly as those first few breaths of fresh air had been upon leaving the hospital, the blinding sun had wreaked havoc on her head. She’d tried to search for Rupert when they’d pulled through the gates, but the light felt like hot pokers lancing her eyes and she’d been forced to close them. Beside her, Sebastian killed the motor and shifted in his seat to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and spring her seatbelt free.

  “Stay put, baby,” he ordered softly. “I don’t want you trying to get out by yourself.”

  She nodded as much as she could manage. His fingers skimmed her forehead in a gentle caress, his green eyes so wounded and apologetic it damn near broke her heart.

  “I’m okay, Seb,” she reassured him, leaning into his hand when it trailed down to tenderly cup the side of her cheek.

  “I know,” he said, though his voice didn’t sound nearly as convincing as his claim. “I’m going to grab your bag out of the back first. Just sit tight for a second.”

  Frowning to herself, she studied him in the side view mirror as he rounded the back of the Benz. The last few days had taken an unmistakable toll. Grim shadows stretched beneath his eyes, and the chiseled lines of his face appeared even harder and more pronounced. Whatever had transpired between him and Marx had only seemed to amplify that. Even when he smiled, his expression was tired and strained. Her throat tightened knowing she was partially to blame. The accident might not have been her fault, but it was definitely the cause of his stress. He needed rest and a hot, home-cooked meal. What he didn’t need was the added pressure of trying to take care of her.

  Slinging the small duffel bag over his shoulder, Sebastian briefly met her eyes in the side mirror as he bumped the back door shut.

  The press of his body was warm and comforting as he eased her up the steps in the garage and into the laundry room. Dropping the bag beside the washer, he steered her inside. She breathed deep, relishing the familiar scents of home. Worn leather, wood and clean all washed over her, and her eyes drifted shut in a momentary bid of bliss. Sebastian faltered beside her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his face looming close and creased with concern. “I’m better than okay,” she said softly. “I’m home.”

  Sebastian’s mouth curved, exposing a teasing glimpse of his dimples. “That you are, darling,” he said, kissing the side of her temple. “And you have no idea how glad I am to have you here.”

  “You’re just saying that because you didn’t care much for squeezing into my hospital bed or dozing in the chair,” she teased.

  Much to her delight, he stared down at her for a long second before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “There is that. I won’t deny missing my bed, Taylor. Perhaps more importantly, I missed having you in it. Let’s get you upstairs. You are going to take a nice relaxing soak, get washed up, and then in our bed is exactly
where you’re going to be.”

  “Sebastian…”

  He silenced her, pressing a gentle forefinger to her lips. “Stop. No arguing, Taylor. This is what’s best for you and you know it.”

  She did, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Unable to conceal her disappointment, her mouth twisted into a sullen pout. His gaze narrowed, burning into her, and she kissed the tip of his finger.

  “I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I just want to be with you.”

  Sebastian’s expression softened some. “I know, baby, but this isn’t a negotiation and I’m not discussing the terms.”

  She sighed quietly to herself and allowed him to lead her up the stairs. Once in the bathroom, he turned the water on and added a generous amount of her scented oils beneath the churning stream. Taking advantage of his distraction, Taylor peeled out of her clothes, hoping to get as much done as she could before he turned her way. The look in his eyes when they met hers warned he was far from pleased.

  “Get in the tub.”

  His tone was clipped. Lowering her head, Taylor eased past him. He took her elbow, helping to steady and guide her as she stepped over the ledge. Not needing to be told twice, she eased into the water and sank down until the warm waves lapped against her skin. Sebastian folded a plush burgundy towel and draped it over the ledge of the sunken tub. Curious, she watched as he took a seat beside her.

  “Tip your head back,” he commanded.

  It took effort not to argue. More than anything, she wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she could take care of herself, but it was Sebastian and she knew it would be pointless. If helping her was what he wanted, that was what was going to happen. Instead, she studied his face, wondering what had happened between him and Marx as Sebastian wet her hair. It was so hard not to press for information, if for no other reason than to just make sure he was okay, but when it came to SKALS, there had always been a very strict ‘don’t ask’ policy between them. If he wanted her to know something, he would tell her.