Scarred (Unlikely Heroes Book 5) (29 page)

“Let’s go!” Tom motioned Sebastian after them. Tom kept his gun hidden beneath his jacket, but he made sure Sebastian knew it was there.

Sebastian followed after Travis and Emily.

Arriving at night meant less people were around to notice them. Travis wasn’t a fool. He always planned everything out.

Marty was waiting out front of the airport with the Suburban. He ushered Emily inside the vehicle and closed the door.

Sebastian stepped in front of his father. “Where we going?”

“Where do you think, boy? To your childhood home.” Travis yanked open the front passenger’s door and climbed into the vehicle.

Sebastian’s stomach churned. He took a deep breath and pulled open his own door.

Minutes later they were heading away from the airport and toward the place Sebastian hadn’t visited since he’d fled Alabama fourteen years ago.

The place of his nightmares.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

They pulled into the muddy driveway. The lights from the Suburban revealed that the pathetic, run-down trailer of Sebastian’s childhood nightmares was worse than he’d remembered, perhaps because as a successful actor, he’d been able to afford the many finer things in life.

The trailer sat nestled back in the pines of a three-acre lot right on the Tensaw River. Garbage and empty whiskey bottles and beer cans spilled out of an overfull garbage can off to the side of the sagging front porch and littered the overgrown yard. His father hadn’t even bothered to clean up the place when he’d left. He’d just abandoned it, leaving it as it was. The mobile home itself looked like it would blow away when the next tropical storm hit. Sebastian was surprised the place was still standing. It was obvious it had been vacant for years.

He turned to his father. “Why did you keep this place? And why did we come here?”

“I kept it cause it’s where your momma’s buried. You’ll learn why we’re here soon enough.” Travis shoved his door open and stepped down from the Suburban.

The lights from the vehicle allowed Sebastian to catch a glimpse of the small, rotted dock out back that teetered out into the bayou. The same dock he’d played on as a child, diving off of into the river, catching turtles, snakes and frogs, then letting them go. The Tensaw had numerous back channels extending off the main channel that his father had loved to explore, hunting for anything that lived in and around the river, from sturgeon, to alligators, frogs, snakes, turtles, deer, turkeys, wild boar, black bears, beavers…

How many times had his father poached wildlife and gotten away with it? Probably too many to count. The closest neighbor was over a mile away.

Memories from Sebastian’s childhood swamped him, sucking him under like the river’s current. Memories he’d kept suppressed for too long.

“Whatcha’ got there, boy?”

Sebastian jerked around at the sound of his father’s voice. He rose from where he’d been kneeling near the back porch.

“It’s just a little tree frog. He was stuck under a beer can. I was going to let him go.”

“Lemme see.” His father motioned him closer.

Sebastian hesitated. If he handed the frog over, his father would kill it, probably throw it in a soup for dinner.

He took a step back, protectively cradling the frog against his chest.

“No. You’ll hurt him.”

His father’s hand snaked out. Snagging a handful of Sebastian’s dirty T-shirt, his father yanked him off the ground. Sebastian squirmed, his feet dangling in the air. His father pried Sebastian’s hand open and pulled the frog free by its hind leg.

He opened his fist, dropping Sebastian.

Sebastian hit the ground, twisting his ankle and falling back onto his butt.

Grinning, his father tore off the frog’s legs, one at a time, then smashed the creature between his fingers and flicked the animal’s guts aside, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Too small to eat. So it’s worthless.”

His father strode up the porch and into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

Shame washed over Sebastian as the memory faded.
That
was the sick, cruel man he’d had to live with as a child. At this very place. He’d never wanted to come back here. Swore he never would.

Yet here he was.

Against his will.

His stomach roiled.

Marty left the vehicle running and the lights on. He climbed out. Chris came around and opened the door for Emily. With a nervous glance at Sebastian, she slid out of the vehicle.

Tom waved his gun at Sebastian. “Get out.”

Sebastian shoved open his door and stepped out of the Suburban.

Frogs croaked from the underbrush, their repeated calls loud in the aftermath of a recent rain, welcoming him home.

No, this isn’t home. It will never be home.

Travis removed several large flashlights from the back of the vehicle, handing one to each of his men. With the flashlights lighting the way, they moved as a group across the yard, Chris steering Emily away from Sebastian. Emily glanced around, wide-eyed. Did she find the place as repulsive as Sebastian did? Would she find him lacking knowing this was where he’d come from?

Travis halted the group, pausing in front of Sebastian. “I know what you’re thinking, boy, lifting you’re high and mighty nose in the air, thinking you’re better than me. But you ain’t. This is where you came from, so don’t you ever forget it. A tree’s only as good as its roots. And this place here is your roots, boy.”

Sebastian didn’t answer. What was the use? Getting into an argument with his father wouldn’t help the situation. He needed to remain cold, detached, if he was going to do what he had to do to get Emily out of here alive.

Travis’s gaze hardened, narrowing on him. They were virtually the same height, though his father was wider through the shoulders and his gut rolled forward, obscuring a once-lean waist.

Years of intense workouts had toned Sebastian’s body to its current leanness, though he’d always been wiry, even as a small child. Sebastian had good reflexes, but so did his father. Though Travis had ten or fifteen pounds on him—most of it fat—Sebastian knew better than to think age and excessive drinking had made his father weak. If Sebastian was going to win this war, he would have to outthink Travis, as well as overtake him physically. He wasn’t foolish enough to think it would be easy.

“I’ve got one more job for you to do, boy. Then I’m wiping my hands free of you. Come on.” He turned away, motioning for the others to follow, and headed around the side of the house toward the backyard.

Sebastian followed, his gaze warily scanning the trees, searching for other dangers. He would have to incapacitate Marty, Tom and Chris, in addition to his father, in order to free Emily. Of the four men, Sebastian was the most worried about his father. The others he felt could take with the right timing. They might have guns, but Sebastian doubted the men had the fighting skills he had. They were all just hired thugs, paid to do his father’s bidding. With the right amount of money, Sebastian might even be able to sway them to his side, though he wouldn’t bet on it. This was one of the few times in Sebastian’s life he was glad he was a skilled fighter. He would need those skills tonight if he was going to save Emily. Travis would be the most difficult to take down. Not only was his father a fighter, but a dirty one. If Sebastian was going to win, he’d have to fight dirty too, even though the thought of engaging in a life-or-death combat with his father made his stomach roil.

If you want to win the war, you’re going to have to kill him tonight.

Sebastian swallowed hard, forcing the bile from his throat.

They strolled across the backyard, the flashlights illuminating the small overgrown lawn, the huge oak tree, and the dock that led out into the water.

A slight breeze picked up, causing the screen door to squeak on rusty hinges as it blew outward. Sebastian glanced up at the trailer.

A shadow moved by the kitchen window.

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. His step faltered. Someone—or something—was inside the house. Did his father have more men hiding inside? Why? What did his father have planned?

Sebastian stared hard through the window, but the flashlight beams had moved away and he could detect no further movement. Had it merely been a figment of his imagination?

Tom shoved him forward.

The men gathered in a circle around the white oak, their lights illuminating branches and leaves that littered the ground beneath the huge tree. A large hole that had been dug near the base of the tree caught Sebastian’s eye. A mound of dirt was piled off to the side of the hole.

What the hell? If Sebastian wasn’t mistaken, he was looking at a fresh grave. Whose? His? Maybe.

Then the more likely victim crossed his mind.

Emily.

His breath caught.

Fuck no.
 

Whatever Travis had planned, it had something to do with Emily. Why else would he have brought her here?

Travis paused at the edge of the hole. He motioned to Chris. “Bring her here.”

Emily let out a soft gasp as Chris marched her forward.

She halted beside Sebastian. “Don’t fight the memories,” she whispered, clutching his arm. “You’ll need them to fight him. Don’t be afraid of them, Sebastian. Set your emotions free. You can
feel
and still beat him. You don’t need the coldness to win.”

“Get moving.” Chris shoved her past, stopping before Travis.

Don’t fight the memories.

Shit, could he do that? He’d been fighting the past for so long, afraid to set the memories free, afraid of what might happen if he did. Each time he turned one loose, it weakened him. What if he unleashed those memories and it ended up being his downfall?  

You don’t need the coldness to win.

Could she be right? Was
feeling
the only way to win this war? Would setting all those memories loose free him—or destroy him?

Travis snagged Emily by the back of the neck and squeezed, hauling her up against him. She whimpered, her gaze darting to Sebastian.

Sebastian’s heart stopped. “Don’t hurt her.” He stepped forward, but Tom shoved him back, pointing the gun in his face.

“If you let Emily go, I’ll do whatever you want for the rest of my life. Please, just let her go. She never did anything to you.”

Travis chuckled. “I was smart to take her. She’s your biggest weakness. Want to know why we’re here, boy? You see that spot on the other side of the tree?” He motioned at the ground near the base of the giant oak. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the dirt and overgrown weeds, trying to see what Travis was talking about. What spot?

“That’s your momma down there. I buried her there twenty-two years ago.”

What?

The breath snagged in Sebastian’s throat.
Mom.
All these years he’d believed his mother had left him behind. All these years he’d believed she hadn’t loved him. That she hadn’t wanted him. That he wasn’t even loveable.

Was she really dead?

He wheezed in and out several times, trying to breathe. Could it be true? Could she truly be dead?

His heart caved in.

Oh Mom. I’m so sorry. I thought you didn’t want me, that you didn’t love me.

Sebastian drew in a sharp breath. He lifted his gaze to the despicable man who’d sired him. “Why is she buried there? What did you do to her?”

Travis’s face scrunched into a sneer. “You still don’t get it, do you? Stupid boy. Since the moment you were born, you
ruined
my life. You stole the woman I loved, turned her against me. After you were born, all she cared about was you.
Oh, look at the cute little baby. Ain’t he just so precious?
” he mocked. “She stopped sleeping in my bed, stopped cooking my meals. All she wanted to do was be around sweet little Sebastian. All of a sudden she thought I needed to be a better man, that I needed to set a good example for our son. She decided I wasn’t good enough for you. Or her. When I refused to change my ways, she announced she was fixing to leave and taking you with her. Stupid bitch. I stopped her that night. I had to. She wasn’t leaving me. She belonged with me. I was her old man.”

Sebastian fought back the darkness raging inside him. His father blamed him for his mother wanting to leave? Seriously? Didn’t Travis understand she probably hadn’t been able to deal with his drunken rages or his pathetic gambling anymore?

“How did you kill her?” Ignoring the gun Tom pointed at his head, Sebastian glared across the overgrown lawn at his father. “How, you son-of-a-bitch?”

His father blanched. A wild look came into his eyes. “It was…an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. We got into an argument. She said she was leaving me and taking you with her. She kept screaming at me in that high-pitched voice, so I wrapped my hands around her neck and squeezed, trying to get her to shut up. Her face turned purple and she went limp. I let go of her and she plopped to the floor. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just…lost it. She pissed me off so bad I couldn’t control myself. She wasn’t supposed to die. Not her. It should have been you. If you hadn’t been born, it wouldn’t have happened.
None
of this would have happened.”

Sebastian’s blood turned to ice. The demons screamed for release within him, pounding against his chest, straining to break free. His father had murdered his mother. Strangled her. Because she’d been trying to leave him. Sebastian’s stomach twisted in revulsion. He should be surprised, but he wasn’t. Just sickened.

It should have been you.

If you hadn’t been born, it wouldn’t have happened.

Now he finally understood why his father hated him so much. Travis had hated Sebastian since birth. He blamed Sebastian for everything.

Oh Mom. I’m so sorry. I should have known you would never leave me.

Travis’s eyes hardened. “You see, boy? You stole the woman I love. So now I’ve stolen the woman you love. And she’s going to join your momma down there in the ground. It’s only fair after what you did to me. An eye for an eye and all that shit. Only then will we be even.”