CHAPTER 6 ~
Moonlight spilled through the windows, bathing the study in a soft, silvery glow. Reluctance lined his forehead as Sebastian turned the flash drive in his fingers. He’d worn himself out earlier, but even the exhausting extent of their lovemaking had not been enough to lure him to sleep. Rest remained elusive. A taunting beast. His heart felt heavy as the cycle of the past continued to plague him. There had been a time when he’d believed the years of service and dedication he’d poured into SKALS had counted for something in Marx’s eyes. Now, he was no longer sure.
Growling beneath his breath, he flipped his laptop open and downed the rest of his scotch as he waited for the system to fire. A few seconds later, he jammed the key into the USB slot and braced himself. Josh was right. Some things he didn’t need to see, but as true as that was, he needed answers. Answers only the flash drive could give.
His stomach knotted as he watched the first of the blinding explosions detonate in his yard and Laychee’s men descend on his former security team in a shadowy horde. Gunfire ensued—most of it one sided due to the staggering effects of the flash bangs and, within a matter of seconds, the bastards engulfed his home. Bile rose, scalding his throat as the footage cut to the inside of the house and he watched Taylor try to scramble for safety. The only comfort he had was the pride he felt watching her fight back.
Even that dimmed beneath the crippling bite of anguish. As brave as she’d been, as hard as she’d tried, it hadn’t been enough. None of it had. Not his promises. Not the security. Not her fighting with every ounce of strength she had.
Swallowing against the uncomfortable surge of emotion, he watched them haul her into his study. A cold chill raced down his spine as he watched Laychee leer over her, and later, the men he’d seen on the video call in the warehouse. His teeth cut into the sides of his cheeks and flooded his mouth with the sweet coppery tang of blood as the rest of the puzzle slowly started to fall into place.
The neurotoxins they’d injected her with were a cold move. Completely paralyzed, she’d been unable to move, but the horror in her eyes was unmistakable. She was like a butterfly caught in a deadly spider’s clutches: alive, but mostly dead, and all too aware of the cruelty they inflicted. His fists balled, the short crescents of his nails biting deep into his palms as they beat her, but what happened next damn near destroyed him.
One of the men trailed the barrel of a pistol up the inside of Taylor’s thigh until it disappeared beneath the bloody and tattered hem of her tee. His insides burned as if they’d been doused in gasoline. Clamping a hand over his mouth, Sebastian dropped against the back of his chair. He ripped his gaze away, unable to bear the sight of them violating her. His breath came in labored spurts. It took him a moment to realize the anguished noises flooding the room came from his own throat.
Gouging his palms against his closed lids, he fought to keep the tears at bay. Dinner threatened to resurface and his heart shattered. She didn’t deserve that. No one did. Rape wasn’t an uncommon form of torture, but it was one he’d always abstained from. Being inside a woman was far too personal, the connection existent no matter how fleeting. What those men did to Taylor wasn’t subjective. It was sick and brutal. Even by his standards.
It took everything he had not to hurl the laptop across the room. Knowing what they did was too much. Whatever Josh had done, whatever gruesome ends those men had met, it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would. He launched his glass into the mantel with a heated snarl. Minutes ticked by as he struggled to get himself back under control. For a moment, he regretted not watching the tapes before he’d visited Dominic. At least then, he would have had the satisfaction of knowing someone still suffered every ounce of humiliation and torture Taylor had endured. Dead or not, the son-of-a-bitch could count himself a very lucky man.
Pulling his thoughts back to the present, Sebastian glanced up in time to see Henderson stagger into frame and prop himself up against the doorway. Despite the blood running down his face, the guard managed to get two shots off before taking a hit to his midsection. He caught the third assailant on his way down.
Realization struck Sebastian with a physical force. His breath faltered and shame spread clear down to his core. He’d almost taken the guy out when he caught Taylor giving him a cup of coffee. He’d almost eliminated the only thing that kept her alive. The thought numbed him and, pinching the bridge of his nose, he winced. That small act of mercy had been his only saving grace. If not for Henderson, Taylor would have died.
Frowning, Sebastian pushed those thoughts aside and keyed into the security system’s data logs. Only two automated calls had left the house that night. One had triggered the application on his phone. The other bounced back as unreturned from headquarters. His brow furrowed at the lack of response. It wasn’t concrete enough to peg anything as deliberate on Marx’s end, but it did nothing to lower the red flags of caution either. Had Josh placed a call requesting backup by then, or was there another reason there had been no response?
“Seb?”
His head snapped up at the lilting notes of Taylor’s voice. Doing his best to pull himself back together, he tried to force a reassuring smile. “Yeah, baby?”
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you in bed?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a rueful tilt. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He shut the laptop and stood before carefully picking his way over the shards of broken glass and making his way to where she stood. Worry shone in Taylor’s grey eyes, dimming them to a shade of dark iron as she took in the sharp slivers on the floor.
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing, Taylor. I’ll take care of it. Go back to bed. I will be right up.”
She bit her lip, doubt and uncertainty lining her face.
“Now, Taylor,” he directed.
Images of the men assaulting her on the floor slammed through him without warning. Guilt and shame battered him as he wondered how she could even bear to set foot in that room. Sebastian slammed his eyes shut. He was going to get sick. Plowing a hand through his hair, he staggered back a step and turned away. Taylor rushed to his side, her hands fluttering over his back in a frantic show of concern.
“I’m all right,” he said, twisting out of her reach. “Just stop it and get out of here before you cut your feet.”
“Please don’t push me away. Don’t shut me out. Talk to me, Seb. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help fix it.”
A half-crazed laugh bubbled from his lips. Turning, he regarded her with a questioning tilt of his head.
“Fix it? No, Taylor. There is no fixing it. If I had any decency left in me at all, I would tell you to run as fast and far away from me as you could, but I can’t, and I don’t.” He shook his head. “Even that wouldn’t help. There’s nowhere to hide. No way to escape and I just can’t keep do
ing this!”
The last words left him in a frustrated roar. Whirling, he cleared the desktop with a furious sweep of his arm. Taylor cried out. Terror branded her face as she stumbled away, her hands raised in entreaty. His heart ached at the sight of her, but he had no words of comfort to give. He was too empty and consumed with rage. When she finally spoke, her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.
“Seb…you’re scaring me. Please talk to me. I need to know that we’re okay.”
He flung his arms open in hopeless exasperation. “Nothing is okay, Taylor. Nothing. Everything is so screwed up right now, and I don’t see a way out of any of it. Not for you, and not for me. Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you feel better?”
“What do you mean?”
He refused to answer. He couldn’t. The reality of it all hurt too much. He’d already dragged her too far into the cesspool surrounding his life as it was.
“Do you still love me?” she asked, her voice breaking.
His eyes snapped to hers and flared with disbelief. How the hell could she even ask that? Rage clouded his vision, drenching the room in a dim, red haze. Then, her words sank in. Crossing the room, he reached for her only to have her inch away, doubt and accusations contorting her face. His instincts threatened to get the better of him, the desperate, innate need to capture and subdue anything that tried to escape. Before those impulses could strengthen, he lunged and caught Taylor in his arms. She stiffened, twisting in her efforts to break free.
“Stop it,” he growled, crushing her against his chest. Her fists balled. Sensing her intentions, he tightened his grip. Her struggling was bad enough. Hitting him was a surefire way to trigger every vile instinct SKALS had ever installed. “I said stop!”