Inferno (3 page)

“I know…but that’s what happened, Seb. I swear. I’m so sorry. The car is totaled, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. It is, but I don’t give a damn about that. All that matters is that you and the baby are okay. I’m just trying to figure out what happened here, Taylor. That’s all.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice coming in a calming rumble. “I’m sorry I’m pushing, but this is important. I need you to think back for me. Think back to the beginning. Did you notice anything strange before you got in the car? Anything at all.”

She frowned. The throbbing inside her skull intensified as she struggled to fight her way through the hazy memories crowding her brain. Then she sat up, a cold trickle of fear crawling down her spine. Turning as much as she could against his chest, she searched his eyes through the shadows.

“This wasn’t just some freak accident, was it?”

“I don’t know. Right now, I just want to take every precaution. Think for me, sweetheart.”

Her brow knitted in concentration. She winced feeling the small beads of sweat condense on her forehead. It was bad enough being in the hospital without stewing in your own fluids.

“There was something strange,” she said, “but I don’t know if it has anything to do with what happened or not.”

“No detail is too small. Tell me what you remember,” Sebastian coaxed.

“There was a man who caught my attention when we were putting the cart away. I probably wouldn’t have noticed him, but his hair was a blindingly bright silver that glinted in the sun. He was walking at a brisk pace and he didn’t have any groceries that I could see. Just a funny briefcase. That’s what really caught my attention.”

“Funny how?”

“It wasn’t a typical business binder. It was boxy and looked like it was plastic. In fact, I remember standing there, almost half expecting the supermarket to blow. I felt silly afterwards when nothing happened. Like I had watched one too many Hollywood action movies. I even made a joke to Rupert about it when he asked what was wrong. I guess it wasn’t as farfetched as it seemed.”

Sebastian’s forehead knitted. She could almost see him skimming through his memory, seeing if anyone he knew fit that description. They must not have, because he sighed with a frustrated shake of his head.

“Did you see him get into his vehicle?”

“Yeah. It was a sleek SUV. Black, a Navigator I believe. Like I said, it was so typical it wasn’t funny.”

“What about a license plate? Do you remember anything about it? Any of the letters or digits?”

“No. I looked. I know I did, but I can’t remember now. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore, Seb. I’m so tired and everything hurts.”

“Okay, sweetheart. You did good. I’ll look into it. I promise. You just rest and get better,” he said, rubbing her temples. “The only thing I want you to worry about is taking good care of yourself and our baby.”

Her heart sank upon hearing mention of their child. Her insides twisted as the cold reality of their situation settled over her like a wet blanket. Trying to still the tremble of nerves and pain shimmying through her, Taylor fought to find her voice.

“Do you think Marx might have had something to do with this?”

His hesitation and the deep creases forming in Sebastian’s brow gave her all the answers she needed. After a long moment, his shoulders fell with his exhale and he shook his head. “I don’t know, baby. I wouldn’t put anything past that smug bastard at this point, but one way or another, I swear to you, I will get to the bottom of this. I don’t care what it takes or what I have to do, I will find out who is to blame, and I will make them pay. I don’t care if it’s the dealership or Marx, himself. Someone is going to answer for what they’ve done.”

The vehemence and anger in his icy rasp sent a cold chill down her spine. Shivering, she draped her hand over his corded forearm and stroked the light dusting of hair there in an effort to soothe them both. “Don’t do this, Seb. Not now. Just stay here and hold me…please?”

He stiffened behind her. “Do what, Taylor?” he asked. “What is it you don’t want me to do?” He craned his head in an attempt to study her face.

She tried to turn away, but the gentle strength of his fingers wrapped around her chin and brought her gaze back to his.

“I won’t just let it go, Taylor. I’m not you. I’m not wired that way. You’re all about forgiveness and compassion, but I can’t afford that luxury. In my line of work, those sort of things will get you killed. I’m not weak, and I’m not going to look the other way. I protect what’s mine.”

Closing her eyes, she tucked her head beneath his chin and offered a mute nod. There was no point in arguing. Sebastian was smart. Deep down, he had to see it was nothing more than an ugly cycle they were both churning in. Violence and anger only perpetuated more of the same. Someone always had to do one better, to get the last laugh, until, in the end, there was no one left. He knew that. They both did, but there was no changing his mind.

As surprising as it was, it didn’t take much to still her thoughts. Pushing her frustrations aside, she contented herself with focusing on the strong, steady beat of his heart, the familiar comfort of his clean, woodsy smell, and the tiny life the two of them had created. As if sensing her thoughts, his hand spanned across her stomach in a protective cradle. His dimpled smile stretched against her hair in the darkness and his contented rumble vibrated against her.

“I love you, baby. Both of you. No matter what, please remember that.”

“I will,” she promised. “We love you too. That’s why I’m begging you to be careful.”

“Always, sweetheart,” he assured her softly. “Now close those beautiful eyes and get some sleep. I’ll be right here with you. I promise.”

Wrapped in his arms, knowing he was there and would let no harm come to her, the rest of the world seemed a million miles away. Nestling closer, she let Sebastian’s all-encompassing presence envelop her and lull her back into the blissful numbness of her dreams.

CHAPTER 2 ~

No amount of whiskey could tamp down the hatred and disgust battering his system from the inside out. There was no point in even trying. Every time he looked at Marx, accusations burned hot and flashes of an unspeakable future played out like a kaleidoscope of horror in his head. Lending voice to either right now or giving into the urge to pick up a bottle and dull his senses would only get him killed. He needed his mind sharp, even if that meant feeling every nuance of bitterness and pain. Until then, his only hope in all of this was to play along and continue to be an invaluable asset in their director’s eyes. Unfortunately, that was not an easy façade to maintain when he couldn’t even look at the man. Even a few feet away, Marx’s presence was smothering and Sebastian had to keep his back turned as he stared out the window.

“I will be docking your pay for skipping out early,” Marx warned.

“Do what you have to,” Sebastian countered dryly.

“This isn’t a personal vendetta against you, Baas. We have standards here and rules to maintain.”

“I am well aware of both. As I said, do what you have to.” He watched Marx’s stalwart nod in the reflective glare of the windowpane.

“How is she?” the director asked, crossing the room to settle his heavy bulk onto one of the leather armchairs.

Sebastian bit his cheeks to keep his sarcasm and hostility at bay. As much as he wanted to think Marx was innocent, he’d seen nothing so far to convince him the man was. Not with Taylor’s accident, and not with Project Blue. In fact, he could take the sudden act of concern and shove it straight up his ass as far as Sebastian was concerned.

“Let’s skip the friendly banter,” he growled, turning from the window with a cold gleam in his eye. “Taylor is alive and we both know that’s far from the outcome you desired.”

The guards stationed in the room shifted, but said nothing. Their presence alone was a good indication Marx knew where this conversation was going to go.

The commander’s lips twitched at the corners and he stroked a finger over his close-cropped moustache. “That may be true, but you are sorely mistaken if you think this botched assassination attempt had anything to do with me.”

“Am I?” Sebastian asked. A hard tremble ran through him and he locked his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for his gun. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone in my family has died at the hands of an unfortunate car accident.”

“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?”