Sebastian sat shrouded in the dark shadows of the house. A few quick seconds was all it had taken to pick the lock. Now, his fingers drummed a light beat against the back of the leather couch as he bided his time and waited. Monique had done quite well for herself with the money he’d given her over the years. Of course, that was such a small part of their deal. Now it was time to put up or shut up. The time for payment had come. 

 

A slow smile split his face at the telltale jingle of keys outside the door.

 

He shook his head as Monique made it halfway across the living room with the groceries she was toting before the little alarm bells went off in her head and told her something was wrong. She froze. A small tremble of uncertainty worked its way through her as she turned her head, scanning the familiar shapes of her home. Knowing she sensed him, Sebastian saw no point in dragging the game out any further.

 

“Hello, Monique.”

 

She cried out. The bags she’d been clutching tumbled to the floor as he stood. Plastic split against hardwood, and a thin ribbon of milk dribbled through the slit with a soft gurgle. Sebastian trapped a rolling orange beneath the hard sole of his shoe, his eyes locking on the startled blonde. She edged back, her body shaking as she struggled to maintain the last bits of her composure.

 

“Sebastian.”

 

Using the toe of his shoe, he kicked the orange into the air and caught it. He turned it slowly in his hand before returning his gaze to her. “You don’t sound that surprised to see me.”

 

She gave a shaky exhale. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Taylor.”

 

“Right,” he stated. “What happened to Taylor. It’s unfortunate. I’m assuming you have been busy and that’s why you haven’t bothered to call or come see me.”

 

Reaching over, he flipped on the lights. The recessed tracks flooded the kitchen with a warm glow. Using the mess to distract herself, Monique gathered up her groceries and dropped them on the counter. Her hands shook as he approached.

 

“What do you want from me?”

 

His lips curled with a ghost of a smile. Leaning over, he trapped her between his body and the unyielding spread of the counter.

 

“I made the mistake of ignoring my intuition once, Monique, and I ended up losing something very important to me. I lost it, and now it’s gone. Or so I’ve been led to believe.” She opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a look and the press of his finger. “I know what you are going to say. Don’t insult me by trying to speak.”

 

She nodded in mute compliance. Her body sagged with visible relief as he turned away. Tension radiated from Monique’s slender form while he paced the room in front of her. He whirled without warning, grasping the slender column of her throat. Her green eyes locked with his, pleading, as he squeezed until the delicate column of her windpipe threatened to cave.

 

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Monique?” His voice remained calm and collected.

 

She shook her head in adamant denial. Sebastian released her slowly, his gaze boring into her as she gripped the counter behind her to keep from hitting her knees.

 

“The only reason I allowed the two of you to become friends is because I thought that bond might be useful. I wanted a family. I wanted those ties. I did everything for you. I have taken care of you and provided for you, not to mention doing everything I could to assure you were happy. I did that for you, Monique, and for Josh, but the two of you betrayed me. You turned your backs on me, and still, I was kind enough to let you live. Do you really think I am stupid enough to fall for it twice?”

 

“Seb-Sebastain, I don’t know what you are talking about, I swear.”

 

“No?” he asked quietly. “I held up my end of the bargain. I went out of my way to make sure you could still see your daughter. I put a roof over your head and paid your bills. Looking around, I would say I have been more than generous in those accommodations. All of this,” he said, gesturing to the lavish space around them. “And yet, I still don’t have what I asked you for.”

 

She lifted her hands as he prowled closer. “Sebastian, please, just listen to me.”

 

He shook his head with a cold smile. “No, Monique. I am done listening.”

 

“I don’t know what to do here or what to say! What do you want from me?”

 

A quiet whimper escaped her throat as he leaned over her. The hard lines of his body pressed against hers, driving her against the counter. Tears stung her eyes as he stared down at her and the muscles in his jaw locked with rigid fury.

 

 “Do you honestly expect me to believe that she’s gone? I can still feel her. Did you think that detail would slip my attention? What was the plan, sister?” he asked, reaching up to caress her neck. “Was this a plot Marx and Josh cooked up to break me down and pull me back in line? I will admit it was a brilliant scheme. That monster he loves is back. It’s all that remains. In fact, until I get her back, you and everyone else tied to that organization are going to start dying. I will pick you all off one by one until she is home again.” His lips twitched. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

 

“No. Sebastian, stop! Please, I’ll do anything.”

 

He smiled and pulled away from her. Sighing, he cast his attention to the ceiling and folded his hands behind his back. “You already had that opportunity. I gave you a chance and you gave me nothing.”

 

“What do you want from me? Please don’t do this. Please…”

 

“Where is she?” he roared.

 

She flinched. His sudden loss of composure frightened her more than anything. He watched as the blood drained from her face leaving it ashen white. He studied her. Even now, there was hesitation, reluctance…and perhaps uncertainty. He cocked his head and regarded her closely. 

 

“If Taylor is dead, then you fail to serve any purpose, and our time here is done.” Tapping the small piece in his ear, he turned his back on her. “Get me a visual on the girl.”

 

Monique choked back a cry. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she shook her head in desperate entreaty. “No…Sebastian…no. Jesus! Please!”

 

The call came through on his phone. Swiping the screen, he stared at the video feed of his niece and watched the vibrant little girl running and playing beneath the hot desert sun. A sympathetic smile carved his face as he turned the device Monique’s way. She hit her knees, reaching for the phone with an anguished sob.

 

“Oh God,” she cried. “Not my baby. Don’t hurt my baby.”

 

“We all have our weaknesses in life, that one thing we just can’t live without,” he murmured, crouching down before her. “Taylor and our baby were mine.”

 

Her eyes darted up to his and flared.

 

“That’s right. She was pregnant,” he stated quietly. “I lost my child and you are very close to losing yours. The clock is ticking, Monique. Choose quickly.”

 

“I don’t know anything,” she sobbed. He yanked the phone back as her fingers clawed for it. “I swear. Sebastian, I swear to God. I know you are still in there somewhere. I know you are hurting, but you have to fight this and come back from it. Taylor wouldn’t want you to do this. She wouldn’t like the man you’re becoming. You know this. Please. You love Mia. I love you. We both do.”

 

He rubbed the light golden stubble on his chin before rocking to his feet. His eyes darted to the woman on the floor and pinned her in place. He disconnected the feed with a silent swipe, displeasure stamping the harsh planes of his face. Without warning, he wrenched her from the floor using a thick fistful of her hair. Pressing against her back, he clamped his other hand around her neck, silencing her shrill cry.

 

“I want what is mine, and you are going to give it to me,” he warned in a silken voice against her ear. “I can still feel her, and my instinct doesn’t lie. I don’t care what it takes, or what you have to do. Josh knows something. You pull her location out of him. One of you better bring her to me, or I will make you watch as I strip away everything you hold dear.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

Three more days had passed. He’d watched Marx’s every move until the son-of-a-bitch pulled a quick one overnight and disappeared off the grid. He’d scoured every inch of SKALS headquarters and every black site he could find, but there was still no sign of Taylor. Every day, he died a thousand deaths, but today…today was the worst. Sebastian hung his head as a harsh gust of wind swept across the ground. Steeling his jaw, he stared at the gaudy spread of Astroturf and the earthen hole it surrounded. Even now, Taylor haunted him. Her laugh, her smile, everything about her flittered nonstop through his mind. The images and memories assaulted him, nearly driving him to his knees. His fingers tightened around the rough bark of the tree, gouging until the loose clumps of wood splintered and broke free beneath his grasp. It was the only thing helping him stand.

 

Everything he loved was gone.

 

A small crowd had gathered in the cemetery. They huddled together, their faces grim and somber while James Blunt’s Goodbye My Lover played. It had been the most fitting song he could think of, but the lyrics rang with a painful truth and ripped him to shreds. It described their life and everything they’d been through to a tee. Tears welled and his chest jerked in mute agony. How the hell was he supposed to get through this?

 

Forcing his gaze upward, he staunched the flow and watched the thick grey clouds. They churned overhead, threatening to unleash the heavy burden of rain they carried. Clenching his fists, he cracked his thumbs and turned his attention back t0 the lavish silver coffin. It wasn’t enough. The love of his life deserved so much more. It killed him to know an elongated box filled with satin was the last gift he might ever be able to give her. His heart shattered as he tried not to envision her and their unborn son reduced to nothing but a pile of ashy remains. As much as it terrified him to admit, until he had her back in his arms, that was still a very real possibility.

 

Branches creaked overhead, their spindly limbs bowing in protest of the wind. His throat swelled, cutting his air off. His eyes lifted to Monique, pinning the blonde. Sensing his attention, she glanced up. A violent shiver wracked her from the inside out, and her slender form trembled as she quickly averted her gaze. Her head bowed with her attempts to hide her face. She was wise to fear him. He hadn’t gotten so much as one condolence from her or call and he was far from forgiveness.

 

The disgust he felt was a welcome relief over the pain. His eyes narrowed as Monique pressed closer to Josh’s side. Her face lit with an apologetic smile as the man glanced down, one corner of his mouth returning the gesture. Sebastian’s stomach churned as he watched them lean on each other for support, as if it was their ordeal to bear. A rise of acid burned his chest. Anger pulsed low and seething in his veins, forcing him to brood in silence. Several deep breaths helped to curtail his emotions, but only a little. The muscles beneath his jaw corded as he glanced at Taylor’s coffin once again and forced his eyes away.

 

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bear the sight of it. It hurt too damn much.

 

Reaching up, he twisted the tarnished silver pin on the lapel of his shirt. The shaped metal bones beneath his fingers helped soothe his turmoil and gave him a renewed sense of purpose. This was the sort of situation he was trained for. He would find Taylor. All he had to do was pinpoint her location and flush Marx out of hiding. The problem was deciding where to start and when.

 

He scanned the pitifully small crowd, inspecting each face, searching for any sign of deception. Time and again, he found his attention drawn to the man behind Monique. Tall and broad in chest and shoulders, he had a chiseled jaw and almost model good looks. He wasn’t someone from their social circle, but the man was too somber, too subdued. His lips pursed in thought. His gaze probed, searching deeper. Sebastian’s head cocked to the side as recognition hit and he remembered a name to go with the face. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Gavin Bradshaw.

 

He frowned, his forehead creasing, as he wondered what the man was doing there. There was no denying the anger in those icy blue eyes or the grief. The two came so quickly they often overlapped each other. It was a strange reaction. Especially since Mr. Bradshaw was the one who had sabotaged Taylor’s car. His interest deepened. He didn’t have an answer for the man’s demeanor yet, but he intended to get one.

 

He turned his attention back to his sister as the services ended. Monique was ravaged by grief and fear. She looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept in days. The willowy stalks of her legs trembled as she approached Taylor’s coffin. Closing her eyes, she kissed the tip of the velvety rose before gently laying it down. Tears fell as she cast an uncertain glance his way. Sebastian gave a curt nod, a terse press tightening his lips. To her credit, she held herself together quite well while exchanging a few brief words with the men who’d stood by her side. She even managed to force a smile or two for their benefit.

 

Biding his time, Sebastian waited until the vehicles were starting to pull away before levering off the tree to approach his sister’s side. Her attention remained rooted on the patch of grass between her feet.

 

“Hello, Monique. That was a lovely service, don’t you think?”

 

She shuddered, her body stiffening as he draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the lee of his body. A low whimper broke from her throat.

 

“I…” she swallowed. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she finished answering. “I suppose.”

 

He stroked the soft silk of her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t be modest, Monique. You sent your friend off well. I especially liked the passage about death bringing freedom from these earthly chains. It was a very fitting choice.” He nudged her face toward his and trapped her with a cold stare. “What I do question is why you and Josh would even bother to attend. Are you trying to hurt me?”

 

Her mouth sprung open in protest. She gave her head a violent shake, and when he whirled on her, it was all she could do to stifle her cry. Her hands came up in pleading.

 

“No, Sebastian!”

 

“No?” he asked, cocking his head. He snared her wrists before they managed to settle against his chest. Grinding the small bones, he closed in on her until they stood toe-to-toe. A callous glint fueled the pale green of his eyes. He could feel each furious hammer of her heart slam against him. “Go home,” he warned.

 

“Sebastian, stop. Just listen to me…”

 

“Why, Monique? Why should I bother?” he asked in a husky voice. “You tell me.” He waited. When no answer was forthcoming, he clenched her wrists tighter and shook her. Her teeth rattled with the force. “Tell me!”

 

Her legs buckled at his roar. Sobbing, she hit her knees at his feet, her hands still raised and outstretched in a desperate plea. His lip curled and Sebastian fought the momentary urge to kick her and send her sprawling. Instead, he clamped his eyes shut and crouched down beside her. She flinched, muffling her cries as he stroked the soft corn silk of her hair. Giving a heavy exhale, he rested his head against the side of hers.

 

“I love you, but I asked you to go home. Take Josh and your kids and get the hell out of my sight. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

 

Gripping her face, he planted a kiss on the line of her jaw. Her face blanched, turning white and sticky as a cold sheen of sweat erupted along her brow.

 

“I want her back, Monique, and I am growing very tired of waiting. She is carrying my child. Every day they are away from me is another day my family is in jeopardy. If I lose them, you will lose yours as well. Do you understand me?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Good girl.”

 

Patting her head, he released her and rocked to his feet. Her legs trembled and shook beneath her as she stood. Drained, he moved aside and watched her leave, her chin still dimpling with her efforts not to cry she crossed the cemetery. Josh wound his arm around her shoulders and shot a wary look in his direction before steering her to the car. There was something he couldn’t quite place veiled in the man’s expression. Reproach, scolding perhaps. Something that said he should know better. Truth be told, he did, but it didn’t matter. Nothing was going to stop him and nothing would stand in his way. Those days were done.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

Taylor fought to elude the smothering press of Marx’s hand. He held her up against him, covering her mouth, as he forced her to watch the sickening spectacle playing out to her right. Bradley was moaning. His eyes were glazed with sadistic pleasure as he masturbated, frantically jerking himself off to her muffled cries and the sight of his teammate fucking her with a flashlight handle. She had nowhere to go. No way to escape. The only thing she could do was retreat to a place deep inside herself and close her eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Brad growled, the sound of wet, slapping flesh growing faster. “That’s it. Pound that hole. I want to hear the bitch scream.”

 

The hand sealed over her mouth moved away and the thrusting intensified. She bit her lip, thrashing her head from side-to-side in a desperate attempt to shake the pain and keep the mounting screams at bay. She’d sooner die than add to their satisfaction again.

 

“Mm. You like that, honey? Does that feel good yet?” her attacker asked. “Don’t you pass out on me. We’re gonna switch places when he cums.”

 

“Go to hell,” she choked.

 

Laughing, he shoved the handle harder. Bradly howled above her and her empty stomach heaved as something warm and sticky shot across her skin. Leaving his weapon of choice inside her, her assailant roughly patted her cheek and smiled before he stood. He fumbled with the clasp of his belt, the front of his pants already straining as he stared down at her.

 

“I may be going to hell, sunshine, but you’re already there.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

The swollen moon hung like some sick mockery of the sun. He’d watched the rise of both today, and Sebastian had a sick feeling he would witness both fade. A pale light spilled through the twisted canopy of limbs overhead and cast silver swaths across the ground. They fell in haphazard patterns throughout the cemetery, never really illuminating anything. Just offering brief glimpses of what might have been.

 

Tipping the bottle of Southern Comfort, he took another long swig. The whiskey burned his throat but did little to numb the emptiness or pain. His gaze remained rooted to the fresh mound of dirt and the simple floral wreath adorning it. He knew in his heart Taylor wasn’t there, but he couldn’t find the strength or willpower to leave. It was the only connection he had left—the only place where he could feel some semblance of closeness.

 

God damn he missed her.

 

Sebastian shook his head and wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. He might as well be the one buried in that ground. Part of him was gone. Losing her had ripped out his heart, his soul, whatever shreds of humanity he’d still possessed and turned them into something feral and animalistic. He was so close to losing her for good this time. No take backs, no second chances. What would he do then? She was still out there. He would see her again. Touch her again. He knew this with certainty, and yet he was going out of his mind with the mixture of grief and madness her absence inspired. What the hell had he been thinking? The bottle dangled from his fingers, swinging between his knees. How had it come to this? Why?

 

They had been so good together.

 

He took another long pull of whiskey. This time, his eyes watered and he grimaced against the rush of emotion as much as the burn. He never would’ve thought a mere woman could bring him to his knees. Yet here he was, crippled and unable to stand, willing to give anything, do anything, just to have her back. He missed the sweet innocence of her smile, her smell, the feel of her body as he drove deep inside her. Nothing else compared to Taylor. No one else even came close. She had been it for him, and now she was gone.

 

Taken from him—stolen.

 

Fucking Monique. The bitch was lucky he loved her. That small concession was the only thing that stayed his hand and prevented her and Josh from meeting a slow and painful demise. Holding his anger in was killing him. Someday, though, circumstances would change. He would bring Taylor home and, when he did, he was going to take perverse pleasure in torturing anyone who had played a part in her disappearance. They would experience, firsthand, the suffering and torment they’d caused him, and, maybe, if they were lucky, he would put them out of their misery before the insanity ate them alive.

 

He had to believe Taylor was still out there. Hope was the only thing that kept him going, but the worries kept coming, each question piercing his heart like a molten dagger.

 

What was she doing? Was she hungry or in pain? There was nothing, nothing in this world he wouldn’t do to take her place. He would gladly die a thousand agonizing deaths to spare her one more moment of suffering. He’d sworn to her he would always protect her. He’d vowed that he would never walk away, that he would never give up on her without a fight. How many times had they promised each other that death was the only thing that would ever tear them apart? Even then, he’d sworn to be close behind. It was supposed to be the two of them, him and her, against the world—forever.

 

Tears stung his eyes and he hung his head, raking his fingers through the disheveled mess of curls. He swirled the remainder of the whiskey, listening to the amber liquid slosh against the glass, and trying to find the strength to stand.

 

“You and me, Taylor,” he whispered. 

 

But it wasn’t. Not anymore. He had nothing left. Nothing. Just the hushed profanity of his thoughts and the haunting scape of his memories.