Edge of Obsession (SKALS 3)

“Very.”

“Good. Get out,” he ordered.

Head bobbing in confirmation, Vince made a beeline for the door. He staggered back, almost capsizing, as the metal barrier swung open without warning and struck his shoulder. Marx pinned the man with an unapologetic glare before storming the rest of the way into the room. The former technician slipped past him in humbled silence, leaving Sebastian to face the commander on his own.

Marx’s eyes glinted, the dark pits black and full of venom. “What the hell just happened out there?” he bellowed. “Who gave you permission to waltz in and off a man in our custody?”

“I did,” Sebastian stated. “It was my team. You kept Dominic alive so I could have my revenge and I had it.”

“That man’s crimes were against SKALS. Not just you! It wasn’t your call to make,” Marx snarled.

“Is that so?” Gritting his teeth, Sebastian returned to his station by the window. “I was the one bound to a chair with a knife to my throat. I was the one with a plastic bag over my head, and it was my home Laychee and his men broke into. I would say that made his transgressions very much against me.”

“You are out of line, Baas. Out of line and completely out of control. Much like the party you held for her over the weekend, your engagement to Miss McAvay was another announcement that seems to have slipped my attention. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are trying to keep me out of the loop.”

“It was a private affair. I saw no reason to invite you, much less think you would want to attend.”

The director’s lips pursed with a dark scowl. “It didn’t sound private to me, Sebastian. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Dominic Chase and I were the only members of this team not invited to your little shindig.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re riding my ass over a few hurt feelings?”

“I have warned you before to use the girl as an outlet for your body. Nothing else. I need your head in the game, and one way or another I will have it. Big changes are coming. Changes that will catapult this organization and its power to levels beyond your wildest dreams. You are going to head those efforts.”

Lifting his chin, he regarded the commander. Loathing bubbled to the surface along with an icy twinge of fear. What levels? What the hell did the man have planned now? Did any of it tie into what had happened with Dominic and Laychee? The thought made his blood run cold.

“Do you have something you wish to add to this conversation, Agent Baas?”

Taking a slow step back, he spread his palms and forced a tight smile. “I look forward to seeing what the future brings.”

“Good.”

The shrill chirp of Sebastian’s phone interrupted any other comments Marx might have had. Tamping down a sigh, he pulled it from his pocket and regarded Taylor’s name. Apprehension made his neck muscles throb. Careful to keep his face passive, he swiped a finger across the screen.

“Now is not a good time. What do you need?” he bit out curtly.

Taylor hesitated on the other end. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I was just wondering if I could leave the house now that everything is over. You got me that beautiful new black 300 for my birthday and I’d really like to drive it.”

“Yeah. Fine, just make sure you take Rupert with you.”

It crushed him, but he hung up without saying another word. Marx stared at him with an amused quirk on his lips. It took everything he had not to grab his gun and blast the smug look off the commander’s face.

“Making midday phone calls now? That brings me to my final point, Agent Baas. Your life is not yours to do with as you please. SKALS still owns your ass and I still run that show. Stop trying to be something you’re not. Something you will never be.”

“And what would that be?” he asked, returning his phone to his front pocket.

“Human. Shut yourself down and pull back from the girl or I will do it for you. I guarantee that experience is something neither of you will find pleasant.”

Sebastian stiffened. As much as he hated having to swallow the thinly veiled threats there were too many witnesses, too many unknown factors to go after the man now. He needed proof, something tangible he could use to tie the commander not just to the set-up, but to exchanging information with Laychee as well. If he was ever going to have a shot at taking the bastard down, he needed to prove their director had crawled into bed with the enemy. Otherwise, he risked certain death and the charge of treason.

Giving a stiff nod, he turned back to his desk. The moment Marx left, he released the breath he’d been holding with a low growl. His body shook with unspent anger and his eyes watered with soul numbing rage. Big changes were coming indeed. He’d go down fighting before he watched the world burn. He knew the truth.

When it came to men like Marx and power, a simple saying applied. Once a whore, always a whore, and with that in mind, he had a very sick feeling they were all about to get screwed.

Taylor’s jaw dropped as she regarded the hulking security guard and the assault rifle cradled in the hard curve of his bicep. Snapping her mouth shut, she gave an adamant shake of her head.

“Uh-uh. No. Just no. Really, Rupert?” Seeing his baffled expression, she gaped at him in disbelief. “I don’t think they are going to let you into the grocery store with that thing, much less the mall.”

The jagged scar etching the side of his face stood out even brighter as his skin colored. Shifting uncomfortably, the Cajun dropped his gaze to the weapon in question. “I was told to bring a gun, Miss Taylor. That’s what this is. It’s a damn good one, too. Military issued with a high precision scope.”

“I can see that, Rupert. Don’t you have anything else you could bring?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips. “Something—I don’t know—a little more discreet?”

“No, Ma’am. Agent Baas called and promised he would make me beg for death should any harm come to you. Given his track record in that department, this seemed like the safest choice.”

Her lips flattened. There was no arguing with that logic. However, she wasn’t about to have her entire day ruined because Sebastian felt the need to be vastly overprotective and encourage the same paranoia in their employees. When it came to the weapon caliber both men bolstered, a bullet was a bullet and dead was dead. Reaching over. She patted the outside of the head of security’s arm.

“We’re going shopping in Flagstaff not Bosnia, Rupert. Go grab a handgun.”

A short while later, the warm spring breeze poured through the open windows, and the radio blared a mix of upbeat songs from Monique’s mp3 player. The blonde sat semi-reclined in the seat beside her, one slender foot propped on the dashboard, charms on her ankle bracelet jangling as she tapped along to the music. Glancing in the review mirror, Taylor grinned. Irene sat nestled in the backseat, her ample bosom pressed against Rupert, much to the guard’s chagrin. His poor face had already run a rapid gambit of colors, and the lusty waitress hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Hell, baby cakes. Maybe this having a bodyguard thing isn’t so bad after all,” the redhead teased as she traced a bright pink nail over the solid outline of his chest. “If they all look like this one, go ahead and sign me up.”

Monique rolled her eyes heavenward while Taylor shook with silent laughter.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, but she’s not so bad. You just have to get to know her.”

“I think I have the wrong parts for that. Women like her have a one-track mind, Tay. If there’s no ‘peen’ it’s not seen. Speaking of, you do realize she would jump my brother’s bones in a heartbeat.”

“She could try, but unless there’s ruffies and restraints involved, I just don’t see that one working out in her favor.”

“Ruffies and restraints. It sounds like a hardcore band!” Monique sniggered and let her head fall back against the headrest. “Good point. As vicious as Seb can be, I don’t think calling someone a “redheaded hose beast” is a term of e

ndearment. Not even for him.”

“He didn’t!”

“He so did.”

Taylor’s mouth snapped shut and she gave a small pout. “God! I miss all of the fun stuff!”

Her sulky declaration made them both laugh. Taylor slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the car beside them and grunted as her seat suddenly jerked backward with Irene’s weight. The potent smell of floral perfume washed over her, making her wince as the waitress propped her chin on her shoulder and grinned.

“Ma’am, please sit back,” Rupert urged, reaching for her.

Irene batted his hand away. “Don’t call me Ma’am. It makes me feel old, and if you’re going to put your hands on me, sugar, at least be a gentleman about it and try to make it fun for me too.”

Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Even Monique tittered quietly beside her.

“Now that that conversation is out of the way, what’re you two talking about up there?” Irene asked, grinning, as she gave a sharp crack of her gum.

“Nothing,” Monique said with a wave of her slender hand. “Just family stuff.”

“Oh. We almost there?”

Taylor shrugged out from under the pointy jab of her friend’s chin. “Just a few more minutes. Go ahead and go back to mauling Rupert. He’s starting to look a little lonely back there.”

“Gee, thank you so much, Miss Taylor.” Droll sarcasm laced the guard’s Southern baritone. “It’s mighty nice of you to take my feelings under such consideration.”

Monique stifled a laugh, her green eyes sparkling with mischief and humor. “Someone’s spunky today. I’d watch that if I were you, big guy. My brother takes as kindly to people disrespecting his fiancée as he does them touching her.”

Rupert blanched, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate an ample apology.

“Oh come on. I wouldn’t go quite that far, Mo,” Taylor chimed with a pleasant smile. “Besides, I think poor Rupert here can make up for it by carrying our bags later. What do you think?”