by Adriana Noir
“I was just wondering…I saw Rupert waiting to speak with you in the living room.”
“I had a few things I wanted to discuss with him, yes.”
“Should we order him something too?”
He tamped down an irrational stab of jealousy. It didn’t matter that she’d been spending more time with the guard lately than him due to his hectic work schedule. Taylor wasn’t that kind of girl. She was just trying to do what she did best. She was being sweet and looking after the people around her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shot her a look of suffering.
“He’s not a pet, Taylor,” he stated dryly.
The high ridges of her cheeks flamed at the implication. “I know that, but he’s off duty and security or not, Seb, the man still has to eat.”
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll get his order too, but he is not joining us for cuddle time on the couch.”
She snapped her fingers in a show of mock exasperation. The gesture almost earned her a swat to the ass, but he caught himself before his palm landed. He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. Everything about their life had been uprooted. Even their play was cut short by the accident. He didn’t like it, or the fact that he was almost afraid to touch her. Deep down, it felt like one wrong word, one wrong breath, and everything they’d built would blow away like a feather on the wind.
~*~*~*~
A short while later, Taylor sat surrounded by a mound of plush pillows on the chaise lounge while Sebastian worked on polishing off the remainder of his meal beside her. Despite their offer, Rupert had declined to join them for dinner and instead had lumbered toward the front door, claiming he wanted nothing more than a good night’s rest before he resumed his duties. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected a few hard looks from her lover had played a small part in that decision. Unfazed, Sebastian’s pale green eyes sparkled as he stabbed a piece of pineapple onto his fork and held it out in offering. Licking the last bit of stray sauce off her lips, she accepted the tart fruit and sagged back against the pillows with a groan.
“If I eat another bite, I’m going to burst.”
His mouth curved into a slow smirk. “We can’t have that.”
“Because you would miss me too much?” she asked, grinning.
He donned a deadpan expression and his head tilted in a visible show of thought before he spoke. “No. I was thinking more along the lines of if you explode, I would be stuck cleaning up the mess.”
She gaped at him, her mouth falling open. He grunted as her elbow pegged his ribs. “Real nice, Sebastian!”
Unable to hold it in anymore, he burst into genuine laughter.
Her jaw stretched round a violent yawn and she glanced at the decorative clock gracing the entertainment stand’s built-in shelves. The fact that it wasn’t even nine yet and she was having trouble staying awake made her feel even more weak and pathetic.
After taking her tray, he rolled to the side and set their platters on the floor beside the chair. A lazy smile curved his mouth as he flipped back over and covered her body with his, careful to keep his weight propped onto his arms. Resting his forehead against hers, he stared into her eyes, the look there intense enough to steal her breath away.
“You know I was just teasing you,” he claimed. The smile gracing his handsome face faded, and his expression grew serious, almost pained. He issued an audible swallow and, when he spoke, his voice came in a husky rasp. “It would kill me if anything ever happened to you, Taylor. I don’t think I could live with myself.”
“Seb…” she whispered, her fingers dancing over the elongated stubble still spotting his chin. If he’d showered, he hadn’t shaved, and judging by the dark smudges beneath his eyes, it was doubtful he’d slept much, if at all, in the past few days. A gentle forefinger to her lips silenced her.
“No,” he said. “You don’t understand, Taylor. Those things I tell you, they aren’t just pretty words to make you smile. You really are everything to me. I don’t know how I would go on without you. I wouldn’t even want to try.”
She kissed his finger in a silent bid to speak. He swallowed again, the whites of his eyes reddening a little. His jaw tightened and Sebastian lowered his head.
“You are way too good for me. Too good to me. You’d never say it. You’re too sweet for that, but I blame myself for this,” he said, moving his finger from her lips to trace the small cut above her eye. “For Laychee, for everything. Every time you get hurt, it boils down to somebody wanting to get at me. That’s not fair to you, baby.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “I’m not dying, Sebastian. I’m a little banged up but I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“I know but some things just need said. They might be unpleasant to hear, but they’re true.” He hesitated for a moment before lowering his gaze as if ashamed. “It’s all a part of communicating and opening up to each other. I don’t do that often, Taylor, but I like to think I can do it with you.”
“Of course you can. You can tell me anything, Sebastian, and I promise I will always be here to listen. You’ve already shared the worst with me. You should know that means you’re always welcome to share the best. I’d like that. I want to hear what makes you tick, to know what you’re feeling and share our hopes and dreams.”
His shoulders lifted with his sigh. A brief bid of something unnamable flashed in his eyes. Fear, anger, denial. It was hard to say what it was but, just like that, she watched it disappear and his mask slip back into place. His face hardened and he rolled away.
“I need to take this stuff into the kitchen and clean up.”
“Sebastian…”
Keeping his back turned to her, he froze. He said nothing, but the pause told her she at least had his attention. Biting the inside of her cheek, Taylor searched for the right words.
“You put a ring on my finger and promised me every single part of you forever. You just talked about the importance of communication and sharing. Now I get the feeling you’re shutting back down. What are you keeping from me?”
He stiffened. The tension running through him was strong enough to draw a visible tremor. Still refusing to look her way, he bowed his head.
“It’s nothing, Taylor. Just work stuff.”
“Okay, but it’s bothering you. Holding it in obviously isn’t doing you any good. Who am I going to tell? Even if I wanted to vent to someone about SKALS, I’m not that stupid. Can’t you just trust me?”
Shifting the trays into one arm, he scrubbed a hand up and down his face, the gesture hard enough to tug the skin beneath his palm. “It has nothing to do with trust. If I didn’t trust you, Taylor, you wouldn’t be here.”
“What is it then? Why can’t you just talk to me?”
He set the trays back on the floor and twisted to face her. The look in his eyes was nothing short of raw anguish. “Because I am trying to protect you. Why can’t you get that? Everything I have ever done was to protect you.”
“From Marx?”
“From Marx, from SKALS, from the harsh realities I face every single day. You have no idea what I have done, Taylor, or the things I have seen. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I want nothing more than to shield you—to keep you away from the brutality—from the fear and hatred that surrounds my life. Right now, I’m sitting on things that scare the hell out of me. You don’t need that kind of stress and I certainly don’t want you carrying those burdens.”
It was hard to imagine Sebastian being afraid of anything, yet the terror darkening his eyes assured he most definitely was.
“Is it about us?” she finally managed.
He shook his head. “No. It’s so much more than that, baby.”
“Sebby, talk to me. I won’t run away. Whatever it is, I won’t turn my back on you. I promise.”
He drew a shuddering breath. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he knelt down and covered her hand with his. “You don’t need this kind of stress and drama, Taylor. Just focus on taking care of yourself
and our baby. I can handle this. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Maybe not, but I can be there for you.”
“You are, honey. I know that. Believe me.” Seeing the hurt and disappointment in her eyes, his expression fell a little and he cupped her cheek. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded. “Don’t look at me that way.”
“I can’t help it. I feel so helpless right now, Seb. So useless. I don’t like it. I feel like I’m just getting in your way.”
His brow crumpled and he tipped his head. “How could you even think that?” At her silence, he sighed and plowed his hands through his hair. “I can’t, Taylor. I just can’t. It’s not that I don’t love you or trust you enough, baby. It’s quite the opposite. The things I’m holding onto right now go way beyond you or Marx or SKALS. This is the type of information that gets people killed. I’m not willing to take that risk with you.”
His confession unnerved her more than a little and, unable to help herself, she knotted her fingers in the plush throw draped over her legs and twisted the buttery fabric. Sebastian tightened his grip on her hand, as if seeking an anchor or security.
“I will say this. I need you to be extra careful right now. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Marx might have kicked up a hornet’s nest and there are a lot of angry people right now. I need you to bear that in mind and not trust anyone, okay?”
She nodded, but felt the blood draining from her face. “What…how…” Unable to spit out a coherent sentence, she fisted the blanket and shook her head. “What did he do?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t want to get into it, Taylor. It doesn’t matter. I’m not even sure where this is going to go. He’s been on a power trip for a while now and he’s coming unhinged. I don’t think he’s content with running SKALS anymore. I think he wants more.”
Taylor swallowed. She could almost feel the fear and dread radiating off him. The same emotions left her speechless and raveled her stomach in knots. “You can’t…that can’t happen.”
“I know. None of this is for sure, baby. Just a hunch. It just scares the hell out of me to think he’s been plotting this whole thing from the beginning.”
“You think this was his plan all along?”
“He’s a smart man, almost brilliant at times. As chilling as it is, it would make sense. He’s been training us from the start to be brutal, sadistic, unfeeling killers. We’re his own personal army with a hunger for violence and blood. If that has been his intent, things will get ugly. He’s not one to sit back and wait, and the government isn’t one to let people step on its toes. Marx will want to make a move soon, and I can’t see that heading anywhere good.”
Taylor’s knuckles ached from the death grip she kept on the blanket. Her throat felt swollen, closed off, and dry. Her mind spun in time with the dizzying side effects of her concussion. Whatever air she’d managed to suck in escaped her in a shallow wheeze.
“If he does make a play for power, he’s going to use SKALS as reinforcement,” she whispered.
Lowering his head, Sebastian nodded.
The General’s chicken she’d eaten earlier pitched and rolled in her belly, turning her thoughts to the unborn child within. An icy shiver ran through her as she imagined the world with Marx at its helm. That kind of existence, the suffering and torture that would follow, it was what nightmares were made of. She tried to wet her lips to no avail.
Squeezing Sebastian’s hand, she lifted her eyes to his. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “It’s a heavy accusation to make and there is a lot riding on my shoulders right now. The truth can be a terrifying thing. Especially when you’ve built your entire life around something. Not everyone will want to hear what I have to say, let alone be willing to accept it. Some of the men…” he frowned, lowered his head, and sloughed his weary features. “Some of them would want Marx to move in that direction. They’d love nothing more than to have free reign to be as violent and ruthless as they please. Men crave power, Taylor, and if I’m right about what he’s about to do, this is going to rip SKALS apart from the inside out.”
The anguish in his voice broke her heart as much as the situation they faced.
“Either way, Marx is out of control. He’s losing his grip. He’s a threat to my country and my family. I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”
Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around him. Pressing her cheek against his, she closed her eyes. He reached up and hugged her tight.
“I will support you in whatever you decide to do, Sebastian.”
“There are no easy paths here, baby. No easy roads to take.”
“I know,” she murmured. “But things have never been easy for either of us. Maybe…maybe this is the start of us finding a better way.”
“I want that,” he said, turning and gently cupping her face between his hands. “I want that so much. I want to watch our little one grow up without the fear of them becoming a target or overstepping Marx’s bounds. I dream of a life where I don't want to hyperventilate every time you leave the gates," he said with a sad smile.
Her body jerked with a small laugh. “Now you might be asking for a bit too much.”
Tilting his head, he searched her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think there will ever come a time when you don’t want to hyperventilate when I leave the house,” she teased.
It was slow at first, and pained, but a genuine grin inched across his face. “You’re probably right there.”
“I doubt it’s going to get any better once the baby comes.”
“Not likely, darling,” he agreed in a husky murmur. “I love you both way too much to lose you.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. Taylor scrunched her face and smiled as he settled his forehead against hers.
“It wasn’t much, but do you feel better for sharing?” she asked.
His husky laugh rolled through the room and wrapped around her heart.
“No,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have told you any of the things I did. But I do appreciate the fact that you know you need to be a little more cautious and aware. You can’t trust anyone anymore, baby. Now more than ever, I need you to keep that in mind.”
“I will, Seb. I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“More than careful, Taylor,” he warned.
“Scout’s honor,” she said, holding up her fingers in a solemn swear.
He snorted in amusement before reluctantly releasing his hold. “Enough about work. I’m going to take this stuff into the kitchen and pick up. When I come back, we’re going to do what we should have been doing all along.”
“And what would that be?” she asked, wiggling a brow.
Standing, he winked. “Enjoying each other and this little bit of time we have.”
~*~*~*~
Sebastian prowled the length of his office, well aware of the uneasiness rippling through Vincent Pellagreeni as the man tracked his every move. His eyes darted over the freshly lacquered floor, searching for any sign of the menacing stains that had saturated the space only hours before. Like so many other things, SKALS had done an excellent job of eradicating any traces of its existence, no matter how minute. He found himself plagued by a brief stab of guilt as he wondered who those men were—if they had families or a scruffy dog anxiously waiting at home. Pushing the unpleasant thoughts aside, he refocused his attention on the task at hand.
“Please tell me you have come up with something,” he stated, strolling around his desk to drop into his seat.
Vince shifted uncomfortably in front of him, his eyes never wavering from the floor. “I got nothing, Baas. Marx is keeping whatever this is under total wraps and on lockdown. He brought in a handful of new recruits after you left. I was assuming it was to replace the guards you killed, but that wasn’t the direction they were headed. He took them on the extended tour of the west wing.”
His eyes narrowed briefly upon hearing that bit of info
rmation. The west wing was where new squad members were inducted into SKALS. It also housed a special row of cells used for interrogations and reconditioning. Guards tended to escape a little easier and usually detoured to the right.
“How many were there?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
“Six or eight. Maybe more.”
Definitely not guards then. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
Vince’s sandy brow furrowed in a show of confusion.
“I read people for a living, Vincent. Stop making me drag things out of you today. My patience is already at a minimum.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It’s just unnerving and I’m afraid you might find the situation disturbing.”
Sebastian snorted and leaned back in his seat. The chair creaked as it rocked into a gentle recline. “As compared to what exactly?”
“Good point,” Vince muttered. “I came across an invoice issued last week. He’s ordered five more helicopters. All military grade armed with heavy artillery and precision scopes.”
The bottle sitting on the corner of his desk was starting to look more and more appealing. For a moment, he stared at it, tempted to give into its sweet siren’s song. It promised at least a few seconds of relief and mind numbing oblivion. Growling low in the base of his throat, Sebastian tipped his head back and rubbed the underside of his jaw. He really needed to shave. A few more days and he’d be eligible for Grizzly Adams tryouts.
“So he is gearing up.”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say he is gearing up, sir.”
“Really?” Sebastian asked. His expression was skeptical, his eyes fierce and probing. “And what would you call it?”
“A few minor purchases?” Vince asked, the uncertainty in his voice making it come across in the tone of a hopeful question.
“When there is nothing wrong with the equipment we have?” Standing, he made his way to the window. His eyes searched the grounds, looking for any subtle changes he may have missed. Seeing nothing but the usual desert, walls, and barbed wire, he turned his attention back to Vince. “No. Marx isn’t one to waste resources or money. He’s starting to prepare. He may be starting out small, but he’s always expanded at a rapid rate. Today it’s a helicopter or two. Next month it’s an army. When SKALS first started out, it was a two-man team. Look what he’s managed to turn that into.”