Bound by Vengeance (SKALS)

by Adriana Noir

  She shook her head. “I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.”

  He frowned and caressed her hair. “You need to eat, darling.”

  “What happened to the Benz?”

  His shoulders shook, making him wince. “It had a slight accident. Don’t trouble yourself, love. We’re getting a new and improved model. Everything is going to be fine.” He sighed and stared down at her for a long moment. “How’s that for karma? I threaten to beat your ass and get mine handed to me a few hours later.”

  She knew he was looking for a laugh, but all it did was make her brow twist and her face crumple with concern. The rueful press of his mouth told her he regretted the statement. “I love you, Sebastian. I don’t ever want to see you get hurt. It breaks my heart.”

  His eyes drifted shut for a brief second as he kissed her forehead. “I love you, too. You’re my motivation in this world. You have no idea how hard I would fight just to see you again.”

  “Is it worth it?” she whispered.

  A low rumble stirred in his chest as he held her close. “Every single time.”

  She walked him upstairs and helped ease him out of his clothes. He sat on the edge of the corner tub, holding himself up against one of the decorative pillars as she grabbed a washcloth from the drawer and ran it under some hot water. Her hands shook as she gingerly trailed the cloth over his skin and cleaned him up as best as she could. Tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision. Angry bruises mottled Sebastian’s side and a deep cut marred the pale scape of his shoulder. He assured her someone had disinfected it and the wound was clean enough to heal on its own, but she wasn’t so sure. Pressing her lips together, she tried to still the tremble of her chin. He wouldn’t want her to cry. He would want her to be strong. She knew that, but it was hard. Leaning over, she dropped a tender kiss on his brow.

  Sebastian tilted his head back with a lazy smile and ran his hands over the curve of her hips. “You’re so good to me.”

  “It’s nothing compared to what you do for me.”

  He shrugged. Anguish contorted his handsome features and Sebastian lowered his head with a growl when he stood. His frustrated huff echoed off the stone tiled walls. After a few seconds, he released his white-knuckled grip on the pillar and edged toward the bedroom. Taylor hurried to throw the blankets back and adjust the pillows so he could lie down. His shamrock stare locked with hers as she drew the blankets over him. Reluctance and pleading shone in their pale depths. Though the words were unspoken, she understood. A strained show of gratitude played on his face as she climbed into bed beside him. Sebastian cradled her against his uninjured side and dragged her leg up over the top of his thighs. His eyes drifted shut with a contented sigh as she ran her fingers through his curls and, within minutes, she’d managed to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

  Taylor hummed to herself and struggled to dust the tops of the built-ins and plant shelf spanning the fireplace wall. As gorgeous as the house design was, some of it wasn’t very practical when it came to cleaning. Her legs trembled beneath her as her balance shifted and the ladder wobbled. When she realized she was essentially two stories high, her white-knuckled hold turned into a frantic death grip. Blowing out a shaky breath, she weighed the merits of a spotless home versus broken bones. It wasn’t as if Sebastian could drive her to the hospital if she had a typical moment of good old-fashioned Irish grace. He wasn’t in the condition to do much of anything at the moment, besides sleep. Biting her lip in concentration, she gingerly eased her way down the ladder. Sometimes safe was much better than sorry.

  She’d barely set foot on the bottom rung when a chorus of shouts erupted up front. Furrowing her brow, she slung the dust rag over her shoulder and hurried through the foyer to peer out the front windows. The last thing she needed was the security team waking Sebastian up over something stupid. Peeling aside the thin gossamer curtains in the living room, Taylor sighed and shook her head.

  The sporty blue Celica and spirited redhead standing beside it were all too familiar. She could see the fury and frustration stamping her friend’s face, even from her vantage point inside the house, and knew Irene wasn’t going to go anywhere without a fight.

  After casting a quick peek up the steps, she disabled the alarm and crept out onto the porch. She eased the doors until they remained open just a crack and bolted off the porch.

  The head of security, Henderson, whirled at the sound of her footsteps. Shifting his weapon, he regarded her with a curious but determined stare.

  “You should head back inside, Miss McAvay.”

  Prying her gaze away from his assault rifle, she shook her head. “It’s okay. I know that woman,” she said, pointing to Irene. “She’s my friend.”

  Surprise flickered across his face, making his eyes flare, but he quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I have strict orders not to let you leave the premises, and no one but Mr. Baas’ partner or sister is to set foot inside these gates without his permission.”

  She bristled at the reminder. Her lips pursed, despite the embarrassed flush warming her cheeks. Lifting her chin a notch, she held the guard’s steady gaze, not missing the spark of amusement in his brown eyes.

  “I understand that, Henderson,” she said coolly. “And I promise you I won’t set one foot on the other side of this fence or Irene in, but I don’t remember there being any orders in regards to me talking to someone no matter what side they stood on—right?”

  He shifted his rifle as a confused grimace rode his creased face. “No, Ma’am, I don’t suppose there was,” he admitted.

  “Then please, sir, let me handle this. Trust me, the only thing standing here and arguing with her is going to accomplish is you waking Sebastian up, and right now, he needs his rest.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  He stepped aside, though uncertainty and apprehension still lined his weathered expression. Offering him a pleasant smile, Taylor walked around him and approached the wrought iron gate where Irene stood waiting. The spunky redhead surged closer, wrapping her pale hands around the posts.

  “Taylor,” she breathed. “Thank God. You have no idea how worried I’ve been. What the hell happened last night, sugar? Are you okay?”

  Wincing, she shifted her socked feet in an attempt to shake the cold seeping into them. In her efforts to hurry outside and diffuse the situation, she hadn’t had the time or presence of mind to put on a pair of shoes.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I’m fine.”

  Irene’s glaring ruby lips flattened with doubt. “Honey, I heard him grilling you when he got home. The man sounded anything but pleased. Then, there was a god-awful noise on my end, and next thing I knew, you were gone. I tried calling you back all night, but it kept going right to voicemail.”

  Deep shame flooded her. In the chaos that followed, she’d all but forgotten what her friend must have heard before Sebastian had taken her phone and smashed it. Not to mention how the exchange must have sounded. A quick glance at Henderson assured her he was listening to the conversation. Curiosity burned in his stare, but his face remained passive and he said nothing. Lowering her head, she tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “I’m fine, Irene. Really. I don’t know what happened. My battery must have died or something.”

  “Taylor, sweetie…you can talk to me. You know that, baby girl. I just heard everything this guard here said. You’re not allowed out, and no one else is allowed in? What kind of fucked up deal do you have going on here, honey? Are you in trouble?”

  She wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. Humiliation and anger warred inside her, each fighting for the upper hand. “No! It’s not like that, Irene! You have no idea what’s going on around here. Sebastian’s had some complications at work. The guards are here to keep us safe. It’s just a safety precaution, that’s all.”

  “Sounds like he’s trying to control you if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t,” Taylor muttered,
glancing back toward the house.

  “All right, Tay. I don’t mean to be pushy, but you have to understand, you’re like a little sister to me, and I know you ain’t got no Mama to look after you. Don’t be mad at me for worrying, okay?”

  A reluctant smile played on her lips as she turned her attention back to her friend. “Okay.”

  “Now let me see that rock.”

  Sticking her hand through the gate, Irene beckoned for her fingers with mock impatience. Her eyes widened as she twisted and turned the three-stoned platinum band with an admiring gasp. “Jesus, girl. Be careful when you go outside. People might think you’re throwing out the bat signal. Seriously,” she said, “you could blind someone with that thing. It’s gorgeous!”

  “Thank you,” Taylor said, blushing.

  “I mean it. I’ve never seen a ring sparkle like that before unless it was under the jewelry store lights. The diamonds are perfect. Big enough that you can’t miss them, but not so big as to be gaudy. They look pretty flawless, too.”

  She laughed, arching a brow at her friend. “I had no idea you were such an expert gemologist.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, sugar,” Irene confessed with a lecherous grin. “My mom always scolded me growing up. She said I had champagne tastes and a beer budget. I guess some things never change.”

  Taylor rubbed the chill from her arms and shook her head. “I guess not, but there is a simple enough solution. They sell six-dollar bottles of bubbly at the grocery store. I’ve seen them.”

  The redhead burst into laughter. “Taylor McAvay! I’d slug you if I could. You are such a smartass!”

  Smirking, she cast a look Henderson’s way. “I don’t think my bodyguard would like that.”

  “No, Ma’am,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t. I don’t think Mr. Baas would appreciate the gesture either.”

  Sobering, Taylor nodded. Her shoulders lifted and she did her best to mask her disappointment as she forced a smile for her friend. “I should go,” she said reluctantly. “Sebastian got hurt pretty bad at work last night. I should head back inside in case he wakes up and needs me.”

  Worry lined Irene’s overly made-up face. Foundation caked in the creases around her mouth. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty banged up though and I don’t want him roaming around trying to do things for himself. That man is nothing if not stubborn.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Irene muttered. “Especially those alphas.” A quiet sigh wafted between them. Reaching out, she took Taylor’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll let you get back to your handsome Fed. Promise me you will call if you need anything, though. Anything at all.”

  “I’m not letting you give him a sponge bath, Irene.”

  Much to her surprise, Henderson snorted and tried to cover it by coughing into his fist. His eyes sparkled though as he glanced between the two of them. Irene laughed even harder, adding fuel to the humor with a disgruntled snap of her fingers.

  “Damn,” she scoffed, not bothering to mask her disappointment. “I mean it though, Tay. Give me a call as soon as things get back to normal or if you need a helping hand. Sponge bath or not,” she teased. “Don’t make me come screaming your name at the gates again, Rapunzel, because you know I will.”

  “I know, and I love you for it. I’m just not sure why.”

  “Well, that’s easy, sugar. We both know I’m completely irresistible,” the coppertop teased with a coy smirk. “I’ll see ya later, doll. Stay in touch.”

  As she watched Irene sashay back to her car with an exaggerated swing of her hips, Taylor shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to shake the numbness and cold seeping into her feet. Her awkward dance drew an amused smirk from Henderson, who merely nodded toward the house in mute suggestion. Offering him an apologetic grin, she bolted up the front walk, wincing as the pins and needles feeling in her toes intensified.

  After pushing the front doors open, her gaze travelled to the top of the stairs in search of Sebastian. She’d fully expected to see him standing there, waiting for some sort of explanation for her actions, his Sebby senses on full alert. Her mouth fell with a worried frown when she found the landing empty and the house silent. The stillness drove home just how serious his injuries were. Nothing escaped his attention, and if the commotion outside wasn’t enough to disturb him from his slumber, nothing short of a natural disaster would.

  Shoulders slumping, Taylor eased the doors shut behind her and reset the alarm as a conflicting surge of emotions washed through her. Sometimes, victory was strangely bittersweet.

  A potent combination of painkillers kept Sebastian asleep most of the time, but despite the semi-coma, he frequently startled awake in the throes of misery, moaning and biting back cries of pain as he clutched at his head. She sat by helplessly, her heart breaking as she rubbed soothing circles on his back while he rocked himself through the worst of it, often tearing at his own hair in frustrated agony. The days were long, and trying. The concussion and medications hit Sebastian hard thrusting him from a strong, self-sufficient man to helpless in the blink of an eye. Shame branded his face and whenever he was awake, he’d whisper dazed apologies. Taylor did her best to silence and reassure him. She brought him his meals, most of which went untouched, helped him bathe, and spent long hours sitting beside him watching him dream. Most of all, she prayed for his speedy recovery.

  Taylor swayed in place, grooving to the upbeat country song as she flipped the bacon and checked the eggs. She hummed beneath her breath and eyed the filling coffee pot before casting a curious glance at the floor above. Lips twisting in confusion, she quirked a brow at the sound of the shower running upstairs. She struggled with the desire to check on him. It had been a week. Yesterday he’d seemed stronger, not to mention testier. His eyes had lost the glassy appearance and though pale and haggard, he’d looked more like Sebastian. It was obvious being bedridden was weighing on him. Sebastian wasn’t used to being helpless. She was putting the finishing touches on his breakfast tray when strong arms suddenly circled around her from behind. Her heart pounded for a moment until her lover’s familiar scent surrounded her and she sighed with relief. Gently easing her head back to rest against his shoulder, she relished in the feel of him. It had been too long.

  “We’ll eat breakfast in the morning room,” he said softly.

  The rasp of his voice sent a delighted shiver down her spine. He sounded stronger, more sure of himself. Her heart swelled. Turning in his arms, Taylor grinned and leaned up for a kiss. The feel of his fingers threading through her hair and his lips against hers were pure heaven.

  “You look good. Are you feeling better?” she said, running her hands over his face. He’d even shaved and slicked his hair into some semblance of order. Sebastian winked and brushed his knuckles across her cheek.

  “Much. Are you going to let me eat before my food gets cold, or are you going to keep staring?” he asked.

  She colored despite the smile he fought to suppress. His eyes betrayed him. Humor shimmered in the pale green pools. She remembered just how easily she could lose herself in those hypnotic depths. Wresting her gaze away, Taylor resisted the urge to bump him with her hip for the teasing and giggled. “I suppose I can feed you.”

  Sebastian winked and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Wise choice.”

  They ate in silence for the most part. The last few days had caught up with him, and he attacked his food like a starving man. She lifted an eyebrow when he reached across the table to steal a piece of toast and bacon off her plate, his expression sheepish.

  “Would you like me to make you more?” she asked, trying to shield her amusement.

  “No, baby. I’ll survive until lunch.”

  “I missed you,” she admitted with a shy smile. “This.”

  He nodded, shoveling the last of his eggs on his fork. “Me too, darling.” A heavy sigh lifted his shoulders and his gaze met hers across the rounded table. “I hate that you saw
me in that condition, Taylor. That man, that person is not who I am. I’m not weak.”

  Her mouth fell open. Reaching out, she draped her hand over his forearm. “Oh my God, Sebastian. I never thought that about you. Ever. You’re the strongest person I know.”

  He dumped the eggs off his fork and pushed them across his plate, still refusing to meet her stare. “I only came home to be with you. I wanted to see you, to know you were safe. Otherwise, I would have just stayed in the infirmary.” His mouth whitened with a grim press and his expression hardened. “I just wanted you to know it was the medication laying me up for the last week, not some shortcoming on my end.”

  “I know, Seb,” she said, squeezing his arm. “They wanted you to rest as much as possible so you could get better. Marx called to check up on you.”

  He set his fork down and sat back, his eyes flying to hers. His brow crept lower with his frown. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him the truth—that you were sleeping. He told me the meds would do that and to let you rest.”

  His jaw knotted and he shook his head. “I don’t want you talking to him, Taylor.”

  “I didn’t recognize the number. It’s not like I knew who it was,” she said, trying not to pout at the hard edge in his voice.

  “Now you do,” he bit back, tossing his napkin on his plate. “Don’t do it again.”

  Blinking against a wave of confusion, she watched as he crossed the room and stomped on the pedal for the stainless steel trashcan, popping the lid. He emptied his plate and rinsed it. As he made his way to the dishwasher, his eyes locked with hers.

  “He has the number for my cell, Taylor. If Marx wants to talk to me, he can call that. He has no business calling the house phone.”

  “I know. I just…I don’t think he wanted to bother you.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Shaking his head, he opened the dishwasher and loaded his plate. “Is this going to be an issue?” he asked without looking up.

  “No, Sebastian. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. You’re supposed to call him back when you’re feeling better.”