Inferno (36 page)

Tears still streamed down Sebastian’s face, but his hold on the gun lessened with the man’s words. His shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. Seizing the opportunity, Rupert eased the Desert Eagle from his hand. The security guard tucked the gun away before wrapping a powerful arm around his shoulders and hauling him to his feet.

He didn’t have the energy or the strength left in him to fight. Sebastian stumbled back a few steps and dropped onto the edge of the bed. Rupert hesitated for several more seconds before easing toward the bedroom doors.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Not tonight.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a response. Swinging his legs up onto the mattress, he curled onto his side and pulled Taylor’s pillow tight against his chest. It didn’t compare to holding her, but it was all he had. He forced himself to accept that as he stroked his fingers over the cool surface and inhaled, pulling the sweet remnants of her scent deep into his lungs. It took hours, but he finally managed to cry himself into a restless sleep.

~*~*~*~

The black shadows were as impenetrable as the pain, the air so hot and thick it was smothering. It felt like an entire Irish dance troupe had taken up residence inside Taylor’s head. The pounding inside her skull was brutal. Wincing, she lay motionless. Sweat trickled down her face and sides where it pooled beneath her back. The fact that she was naked slowly dawned on her and, for a moment, she was almost grateful. The sweltering heat made it feel as if she were being cooked alive.

She licked her lips, grimacing at the thick, swollen feel of her tongue and the dry, cracked surface it scraped. Her throat ached with her efforts to swallow.

As consciousness crept through her, she became more in tune with her body and the searing pain afflicting her shoulders. It burned, shooting like liquid fire down her arms. She shifted, only to find her hands bound over her head. The slight rattle of chains wasn’t surprising. It was the sudden bite of razor-sharp wire slicing into her wrists that caught her off guard. Panicked, she struggled but the more she moved, the deeper it gouged.

Something warm and wet trickled down the inside of her wrists. Realizing if she didn’t stop, she was going to rip herself to shreds, she stilled. A pitiful whimper welled in her chest as the reality of her situation dawned on her. She was trapped, chained, and most likely held hostage by a man who wanted her dead. It was a wonder he hadn’t finished the job already. A small shiver ran through her when she realized that would be far too quick and easy for a man of Marx’s caliber. He would want to see her suffer long and hard first.

Turning her head, she scanned the darkened confines, searching for cracks or seams, anything she could use as a means of escape. The room was almost pitch black making it too hard to tell where one wall ended and another began—much less decipher anything that could be of use.

A familiar voice resonated somewhere outside her cell and her heart turned into a thunderous bass, slamming against the walls of her chest. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes, praying the man would leave. Each passing second became a maddening eternity. Her ears strained listening to the muffled exchange on the other side of the wall. Someone laughed and the callous sound rendered her numb.

Ice-cold dread settled over her the instant the door swung open. Lifting her head, Taylor squinted against the sudden intrusion of light, trying to decipher the shadowy outline looming in the doorframe. Her stomach clenched and rolled in an uneasy flip. There was no mistaking the broad shoulders and thick, heavily muscled torso. Here she was, face-to-face with the same monster who haunted her dreams and kept Sebastian awake at night. Only this time, it was no nightmare. It was real.

She tried to inch away, but the chains on her ankles tightened. The sound of their discordant rattle drew a quiet laugh from the other side of the room as Marx flipped on the lights.

“Rise and shine, Miss McAvay,” he taunted. “I’m so glad to see you’re finally awake.”

~*~*~*~

Sebastian let his eyes drift shut and drew the crisp smell of summer and charred wood into his lungs. If he tried hard enough, he could almost conjure Taylor’s scent beneath the smoky aroma. He was risking much being there, but he had to see what was left of the restaurant one last time. It was the last place she had been. The last place where he’d seen her alive. His body was still achy and battered, his heart splintered into a million pieces. The fear and suffering he’d seen on her face that day were indelibly branded into his mind.

Rupert was right. Marx and anyone else who had played a hand in this needed to pay. He no longer cared who got caught in the crossfires or who died. He would level anything and everyone standing in his way. His life was over and he had nothing left to lose. The brief chirp of a siren drew his attention and, turning on his heel, Sebastian stared back at the squad car with narrowed green eyes.

“The files you requested, sir,” the fresh-faced officer inside said, leaning over the passenger seat to extend a manila envelope his way. “I can’t believe this. I’m still in shock over this whole thing. Stuff like that just doesn’t happen here. Then again, it doesn’t seem like any place is safe from this shit nowadays. There’s bombings and shooting sprees all over. You would think people would find better ways to spend their time.”

A cold smile stretched his lips. “You would think so.”

“I’m praying Big Brother nails these bastards. Have a good night, Agent Baas. Hope the info helps.”

He stared after the car until the red taillights rounded the corner. Giving a disgusted shake of his head, he tucked the file inside his coat. What the hell was it with people and their need for idle chitter chatter?

He ducked his head as he roamed the streets and made his way back into the city. He didn’t want to feel warmth or sunshine on his face. He cursed the sun. It was hard to enjoy anything when his heart was cold and his soul was dead. Vengeance. Vengeance was all he had.

Fortunately, he was in luck and didn’t have far to go before the neon glow of a coffee shop beckoned him in off the street. Wiping the small beads of sweat from his brow, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The crisp air-conditioning hit him, briefly paralyzing his lungs. A pretty blonde glanced up from behind the counter and chimed a greeting. Her gaze moved over him in slow appraisal, and liking what she saw, her smile deepened. He didn’t return the gesture. Her cheeks flushed as he pinned her with a hard stare and held it until she bowed her head in deferral.

After scanning the empty booths, he chose a small circular one in the back and pulled the envelope from the folds of his jacket. He bit back a growl as the waitress hurried to his side.

“Can I get you some coffee or pie? We have cherry, peach, app--”

“Coffee is fine. Black and make it decaf.”

“Coming up in just a second.”

His fists balled beneath the table. He had half a mind to smack the chipper smile right off her face. It wasn’t a nice thought, but it was the best he had. She wasn’t Taylor. She would never be Taylor, and nothing would ever bring the woman he loved back. Those were the cold, hard facts. The bitter realities he woke up to and faced every single day.

Letting his head fall back to rest against the padding, he raked a hand through his curls and sighed. He could never replace the things he had lost. His future, his dreams, his unborn child, the love of his life and his best friend were all gone. No one else would ever understand or accept him the way Taylor had. Her love had been unconditional. No one else would ever feel as good wrapped around his shaft. His breath caught as he remembered the tight grasp of her body and the sweet taste of her skin. She’d always been so eager. Not for him, but to appease the beast within and, in the end, it was all the same. That monster was all that remained. Marx had accomplished his goal in spades. The bastard had snuffed out the last shred of his humanity the second he’d extinguished Taylor’s flame.

He smirked at the irony in those words, his eyes taking on a cold gleam beneath the fluorescent lights. The asshole was going to get what he deserved. He no longer cared who or what he had to destroy to accomplish that goal. Enough was enough.

Sebastian glanced up as the waitress set his coffee down and scrambled back behind the relative safety of the counter. Her actions brought him a small twinge of amusement. Maybe she was a smart girl after all.

He pulled the files out and spread them on the table before him. Taking a long sip of his coffee, he scanned the documents. His smile faltered and faded. He sat up a little straighter, his intense gaze narrowing in interest. The quiet rustle of paper filled the diner as he frantically flipped through the pages, searching them from front to back.

“What is this?” he mused, his pulse quickening.

Bracing his elbows on the table, Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his sinuses. It did nothing to diffuse the dull ache budding behind them.

The incident reports were clear. Nothing in them came as any shock. What did was the complete lack of evidence backing the statements that Taylor was dead. Marx claimed they’d transported her remains to the hospital, but there were no pictures. No body. Nothing. Nothing but useless words and the familiar tingle that assured him Taylor was near.

CHAPTER 14 ~

Taylor jerked awake with a start. Grimacing, she struggled to elude the heavy fist entrenched in her hair. She wasn’t sure when she’d lost consciousness, but the look on Marx’s face warned the man was far from pleased. Her eyes darted to his free hand, a surge of relief sweeping through her when she saw the open plastic bottle he held. She licked her cracked lips in greedy anticipation, no longer feeling the pain. All she could think about was getting that first much needed sip and quenching her thirst.

Her mouth felt like a desert wasteland, her tongue a thick, prickly cactus. It felt like it had been days since she last had a drink, though she had no way of knowing for sure. Time was just one long, meaningless stretch here. Exhausted, she battled the heavy pull of her eyelids.

“Now, now,” Marx chided. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet. There’s so much more waiting in store for you, Miss McAvay. So much more,” the commander growled.

He jerked her head back harder, the sharp angle forcing her neck to bow. Ramming the rim of the bottle against her lips, he poured the water down her throat. The rush of cool water was a blast of heaven. She gulped it down greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop. Marx poured faster. Unable to keep up, Taylor choked, but the stream kept coming. She coughed and sputtered, jerking violently against her restraints, frantic with her efforts to breathe. Laughing, the commander shifted the bottle so water poured up her nose, flooding the back of her throat.

A hot rush of blood flowed down her arms, amping her terror. It was too much. She was drowning and shredding herself to ribbons just to stay alive.

Marx paused, smiling as he stroked the edge of the bottle against her cheek. “We wound tiny threads of barbed wire through the chains,” he explained. “You might want to stop struggling or this game won’t last long.”

“Why are you doing this?” she croaked.

“You know why. You took the best man I had and turned him against me. You turned him against this organization and his team. I spent years forming him, shaping him into the perfect killing machine. My time, my money, all of it was a waste. What are his plans, Taylor? Hmm? What is he planning to do with Blue?”

She sucked in a sharp hiss of pain as the hold on her hair tightened. An unspeakable fear crawled through her as she realized she was helpless to protect her baby if the man decided to start swinging. She had to try to keep him calm, but how? The brief mental scramble cost her. Hauling her head back again, Marx started pouring. This time, the water came harder and faster than before. Bucking against his fist, she gagged and wretched, expelling the meager contents of her stomach in a violent heave.

The commander’s face darkened with rage. His broad features contorted, shifting into something feral and demonic above her. Tossing the now empty water bottle aside, he kept his hold on her hair and clouted her with the back of his fist. His heavy silver rings cracked against her cheek. The blow left her head reeling.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. What are his plans with Blue?”

She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t. Unable to think, let alone lend voice to her words, she gave a helpless shake of her head.

His thick lips tightened into a grim purse. Folding his arms across his chest, Marx stared down at her and nodded. “Consider that the last drink of water you’ll get. Things are only going to get worse for you from here on out. I guarantee you by the time I am through, your tune will change. You will go from wanting to live to praying for death. You have two hours, Taylor, and that is all. Two hours and you had better give me the answers I need.”

~*~*~*~

The harsh fluorescent lights in the hospital were blinding. Sebastian winced, wishing he’d had the good sense to grab a pair of sunglasses. His head still pounded, the throbbing in his temples setting his teeth even more on edge. The small handful of aspirin he’d swallowed hadn’t been enough to shake the lingering side effects of a hangover. Southern Comfort his ass. The label had been full of false promises. He’d found little comfort at the bottom of that bottle, and the day after was proving to be a real bitch.

Lesson learned.

The soles of his shoes clacked against the linoleum, marking his long strides as he roamed the corridors in search of the administrative office. A few turns later, and he found what he was looking for. He didn’t bother knocking.

The startled secretary took one look at his face and pointed him toward the Chief of Staff’s door without a fight. It was just as well. He really wasn’t in the mood for games. What little bit of patience he’d had to begin with had worn perilously thin over the past couple days. All he wanted was to find Taylor and go home. The sooner that happened, the safer everyone else would be. At this point, he was no longer above a few frivolous casualties just to prove a point. In fact, he was starting to welcome it.