Taylor hung limp in Bradley’s grasp, her feet trailing behind her as he dragged her across the floor. She tried to hold her head up long enough to survey her new surroundings, but the exhaustion and weakness gripping her made it so hard. From what she’d seen, they appeared to be inside some sort of silo or holding tank, but that wasn’t going to last long. Marx wanted her washed up and prepared for transport. She didn’t know where they were going next, but she had a sickening feeling, wherever it was, it would be her final resting place.

 

Her eyes raked over a circular set of stairs. They wound upwards in a slow spiral. Common sense deducted there had to be some sort of doorway or hatch up there, but there was no way to be sure. She almost wept with joy when she spotted a door on the ground level. Scanning her surroundings, she took note of blotches and rust stains, bolt patterns, anything that would help her remember its exact location.

 

Bradley’s grip on her arm tightened and he dragged her further into the building. They came to a stop outside a broad room that had no door. Snarling beneath his breath, he shoved her forward, propelling her inside. She stumbled, lost her balance, and sprawled forward, catching herself on her hands and knees. It hurt like hell, but at least she’d prevented crushing the baby. 

 

She froze with uncertainty the moment she spotted Josh. A bright sunburst of hope flared to life when she saw him. Immobile, she watched the brief flickers of shock and horror register on his face, but like an ember doused with water, all hints of emotion quickly died. Muttering beneath his breath, he stepped forward to snare her elbow and haul her to her feet.

 

His eyes flickered away the instant they met hers. Instead, he focused his attention on the thin chain binding her hands.

 

“Put her ass in the tub and hook that thing through the loop,” Bradley ordered, tossing him a key. “Marx wants the bitch cleaned up before we move her. She fucking stinks.”

 

Turning her head, she glared over her shoulder at him. She wanted to tell him off and point out the fact that she’d been forced to lay in a puddle of her own blood, sweat, and urine for days. Gritting her teeth, Taylor started to get ready to speak but a small quiver in her abdomen kept the words at bay. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to smile. It was such a small thing, but so miraculous to feel her child stir inside her. It had been happening for a while now. At first she’d thought it was just hunger or tiny rumbles of gas moving through her stomach, but as the days passed and the sensation grew more frequent, she realized she was feeling the first tiny punches and kicks.

 

It was so bittersweet. She wanted to rejoice and share the news with Sebastian. She wanted to see the joy and excitement cross his face and feel his hands roam over her in an attempt to feel it too—but she couldn’t. He was nowhere around, and a huge part of her had died when Marx told her how much he was hurting and how by all accounts, he’d been wracked with grief and almost inconsolable the day he thought he’d put her in the ground.

 

She was dead, buried, and the man she loved was beside himself with pain…but their child was still very much alive. It was all she had to hold onto at the moment and the only thing that kept her going.

 

Grimacing, Josh wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, trying to put her in the metal tub. Steam wafted from the water and she reared back, kicking the moment the scalding water touched her skin. Her throat was too closed off and too dry to scream, but she tried to anyway, flailing with all her might. It took both of them to push her down and Bradley clobbering her before Josh managed to loop the chain through the metal chain welded to the bottom of the tub. He jerked his hand away and recoiled from the water with a hiss.

 

“Jesus H. Christ! That’s hot!” he exclaimed with bewildered eyes. “I thought we were supposed to clean her up, not cook her.”

 

“Shut up and do your damn job.”

 

Bradley reached for her and she recoiled, trying to elude the hands that had battered and violated her more times than she could count. Hands that had held her down while Marx had painstakingly branded a skull and crossbones ensign into her flesh one agonizing inch at a time. If she could have, she would’ve spit in his face for all the pain and suffering he had caused. 

 

Her fighting to get away this time was enough. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her onto her back and held her submerged. Water and air bubbles filtered up her nose. The position put an unbearable amount of strain on her shoulders and shredded wrists. Darkness swam before her eyes, its presence full of the menacing promise of death before he finally hauled her back up. She dropped forward, pulling her knees to her chest, coughing and gasping in violent heaves. Without warning, Bradley shoved her face forward and, again, held her down. This time, Taylor didn’t move, but he kept her pinned until her lungs started to burn and as badly as her skin.

 

He ripped her head up above the surface just as she started to slip away. She dropped against the side of the tub when he released her, her head smacking against the wall. Unable to sit up on her own, she hung there weakly while choking in as much air as she could.

 

“Fight me again. I dare you,” he growled.

 

“Jesus, Brad…”

 

“You know what? I’m finished putting up with her bullshit, Reevers. Come get me when you’re done.”

 

Silence hung over the room. Taylor didn’t try to speak, she just sat there, waiting for something to happen. Josh stared after his teammate for several seconds before turning his attention back to the tub with a frustrated shake of his head. Sighing, he reached for the faucet and turned the temperature down. It was still hot, but not nearly as unbearable. Her eyes drifted to his front pocket where she’d seen him drop the key before lifting back up to his face. Without a word, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand. It didn’t have a label, but it spelled strongly of mint and rosemary.

 

She sat still, wincing on occasion when his fingers scrubbed over a knot or cut left by Marx and his men. He never offered an apology, but there were occasional flashes of regret in his eyes. When he caught her trying to lick the small drops of water off her shoulder despite the soap clinging to her, he rocked back on his heels with yet another shake of his head. Tension rippled through his wiry muscles as he grabbed a small cup and filled it. Taylor eyed him wearily when he lifted the rim to her lips, remembering all too well what had happened the last time Marx had given her a drink. 

 

“Come on, sunshine. Drink up.”

 

She gulped it down greedily, thankful for the small concession he was showing. She wanted to cry when Josh pulled the cup away. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Setting it aside, he offered no apologies. He just tipped her head back and started rinsing the soap from her hair.

 

“You have a nasty infection going on there,” he said, glancing at her wrists. He seemed to avoid looking at the festering burn between her pubic bone and navel at all costs.

 

Shrugging, Taylor looked away. There was a kindness in his actions so far, but he was still one of them and, after the way he’d turned his back on Sebastian, there was no way she could trust him. Her heart ached so much when she thought of him. So much that she couldn’t stop herself from asking the one thing she really needed to know.

 

“How is he?” Her voice came in a whispered croak, but it was the best she could manage.

 

Avoiding her eyes, Josh hesitated then grabbed the tattered rag draped over the side of the tub. “I don’t know, Taylor. I really don’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

The single word lingered heavily between them. He shot her a scathing look before he lathered some soap on a dingy sponge and started to wash her. He didn’t make it far before they both realized the dilemma. Leaning back, he scratched his neck, and looked to the doorway. Cursing, he pulled the plug, allowing some of the water to drain.

 

“You broke his heart,” she whispered.

 

His dark indigo eyes locked with hers. “Yeah, well, so did you.”

 

The accusation hit her hard. It was far worse than the beatings and torture she’d suffered so far. She couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Sebastian. Ever. Forcing her attention to the wall, she choked back a miserable sob.

 

“Will you tell him?” she begged. “Just please tell him that I love him. Tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put him through this…I didn’t mean…”

 

Words failed her. Her throat closed off and she sat in miserable silence as he continued scrubbing. When he got to her abdomen, his fingertips accidentally grazed her. She held her breath when he froze. His eyes darted to hers and a numbing fear swept through her when she realized that he knew.

 

“Jesus Christ…”

 

“Please…”

 

He rocked back, the sudden movement cutting her off as much as his curt question. “How far?”

 

“I don’t…”

 

“How far, Taylor?”

 

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.”

 

“Almost three weeks. Now answer the damn question,” he growled.

 

The anger darkening his angular features was terrifying. It was a far cry from the Josh she’d come to know and love. Clamping her eyes shut, she scrambled to do the math, but it was too hard to think. “Five months?”

 

He threw the washcloth across the tub hard enough to make water and small drops of soap splatter through the air. She flinched, curling in on herself as best as she could in an effort to shield her belly.

 

“Don’t tell them. Please don’t tell them.”

 

“Shut. Up.”

 

He seemed beyond furious as he snatched up the cup. His entire body quaked with rage that matched the reddened fury contorting his face as he rinsed her as quickly as he could.

 

“Oh good. She’s finished.”

 

Her head snapped up at the sound of Marx’s voice. Her heart turned to a block of ice in her chest. Unable to help it, her eyes darted back to Josh’s pleading with him not to rip away the only thing she had left. He didn’t look at her. He wouldn’t even glance her way. Trembling, she let her attention drift back to his front pocket, knowing the key still sat hidden inside.

 

It took everything she had not to scramble away or beg when Marx crossed the room, approaching her in quick, even strides. He moved with surprising agility and speed for a man of his size. Steely gaze darting between them, Josh quickly backed out of his way.

 

“I’m going to miss our playtime, Taylor. Especially since my pet is no longer with us. Shame given how much I’m sure the two of you wanted to see each other again, but it’s almost time to take you to your new home.” the commander informed her, his tone almost sing-song in its amusement. “But before you go, I’m going to let the boys say their goodbyes.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

His chances of finding her again were growing smaller by the day, but he refused to give up. He refused to believe their story was over before it ever had the chance to begin. There were too many chapters left unwritten. The pain hadn’t lessened any. It was still a raw, festering wound that kept him up at night. He tried to keep himself distracted during the few hours when he was home by clearing out the guestroom and preparing the nursery. Most of his time was spent with the likes of Vincent and Jackson, scouring every inch of Arizona in search of Marx or his men. He outlined and plotted, focusing on what he would do when he finally had revenge.

 

That much was inevitable. Marx knew the war was coming. That was why the coward had chosen to hide.

 

Blowing out a deep breath, Sebastian straightened the cemetery wreath and stood to leave when a man’s voice stopped him in his tracks. Turning, he paused to peer over his shoulder. Gavin Bradshaw stood a few feet away, that odd combination of sorrow and fear he’d witnessed at the funeral still ravaging the man’s face.

 

Sebastian snarled beneath his breath. The guy truly did have some nerve. He was fortunate, very fortunate, that he had bigger scores to settle. At least for now.

 

“If I were you, I would get the hell away from me,” Sebastian warned, his voice coming in a menacing growl.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

His hand shifted to the gun holstered against his thigh. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

 

“Easy,” the man coaxed, raising his hands. “It’s been a rough few weeks for all of us.”

 

His eyes widened as he stared back at Gavin in utter disbelief. “Us? I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but there is no us. I just put my fiancée in the ground. You were a mere breath away from causing that yourself when you sabotaged her car. Consider yourself fortunate this is her resting place. It’s the only thing keeping me from shooting you on sight.”

 

“I just…”

 

“You have five seconds. Start walking or I will blow a goddamn tunnel through your face.”

 

“Taylor was my daughter, Sebastian.”

 

He tried to hold himself together, but the last few weeks had been too much. Unable to help it, a crazed laugh escaped him as Sebastian dropped his chin to his chest. His shoulders quaking, he shook his head. “Why does that not surprise me?” All traces of humor evaporated from his face as he lifted his piercing stare, trapping the other man. “What is it with you people, anyway? It’s not enough to abandon her or repeatedly stick a knife in her back? You had to try and kill her too?”

 

“I didn’t know that was her car. If I had, I swear to Christ, I never would have touched the damn thing. I didn’t know you were together.”

 

His smile was cold and terse. “If you had been any sort of a father to her at all, you would have. I’m finished having this conversation.”

 

“Wait. I need to explain.”

 

“No, you don’t. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Just looking at you is making me sick.”

 

“I’ve spent the last decade of my life protecting Patrick James and assuring Blue didn’t fall into the wrong hands. You know how vital that program is. You’ve seen the damage, the madness and the greed it’s caused. When my contractors told me someone was trying to locate him, I didn’t ask for reasons. I didn’t ask for names. My only objective was to prevent that from happening. I had to eliminate the threat.”

 

“Your daughter wasn’t a part of that equation!”

 

Gavin winced, flinching from the ferocity in his yell. “She wasn’t in it at all, he agreed. They wanted your death to look like an accident. I had plates, vehicle makes, and a list of places you liked to frequent. I had a job to do and I never once imagined any of it would tie back to my daughter. I didn’t even know about your relationship until a few weeks later.”

 

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his eyes still wide and bewildered. He was too damn exhausted to care about the man’s explanations or excuses. “Is this confession supposed to make me feel better somehow? Am I supposed to be grateful that you were only trying to kill me?”

 

“Elaine…her mother…”

 

“I know who she is,” Sebastian snapped, his patience gone.

 

“She told me Taylor was expecting and how happy the two of you seemed. She also told me you were the one who was searching for Patrick and why it was so vital that you find him. I’ve been friends with him my entire life. Yes, I walked out on my family, but I had my reasons. I’ve always tried to protect them, Sebastian. I severed all forms of communication with them years ago, praying that would keep them from getting pulled into this. I knew where this mess was heading way back when the entire concept of Blue was nothing more than a dream your boss had conjured. I was a shitty husband and a shitty father. I can admit that. I chose safeguarding my friend and my country over my family, but I did my best to keep my loved ones out of this. I tried my damnedest, but I still failed miserably.”

 

Something in the man’s voice forced Sebastian to lower his gaze as well as his gun. Maybe it was shame. He knew the feeling of failure all too well. “What do you want from me?” he asked quietly. “Is it money, an apology, what?”

 

“No. God no. These blackouts and bombings, the communities of people going missing…this is Blue at work, isn’t it?”

 

“Not so much Blue as it is Marx. He’s utilizing the program and blackmailing his men. I’m sure my life has served as a prime example of what will happen if they turn on him.”

 

“Is my daughter really dead? Is that really her in the ground? I need to know.”

 

The man’s voice thickened and broke. Sebastian closed himself off from the pain. His jaw tensed as he deliberated his next words carefully. “I have no way of knowing for certain. The remains were already cremated and the heat process destroys all viable DNA.”

 

“But?” her father asked, a tinge of hope affecting his voice.

 

“My heart tells me a different story. There is a chance Taylor is still alive. I believe Marx has her hidden somewhere. I’ve been searching. Unfortunately, I don’t have any leverage to use against him, and if I kill him, I lose the only thing I have leading me to her location.” 

 

Gavin nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. “I understand you were planning a trip to Hawaii.”

 

“It’s been postponed.”

 

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Gavin said, stepping forward to press a small scrap of paper into Sebastian’s hand. “These are the codes and specs you’ll need. If you can find a way to access the system, you’ll be able to shut most of Blue down. There’s your leverage. I’ll find Patrick. He’s the only one who can destroy the rest. If you cooperate, the government will give you all the help you need. You have my word. I want justice, Agent Baas. Find my daughter and make that sick fuck that has her pay.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when Taylor woke up, the agony branching through her body had lessened. A faint smile curved her lips as she saw Sebastian’s face looming above her in the shadows. There was such love and relief in his pale green eyes, and he reached for her, brushing the sweaty clumps of hair away from her face.

 

“Sebby,” she whispered, trying to muster the strength to lift her arm. She needed to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips once again. She ached to run her fingers through his curls or trace the deep, chasm-like dimples framing his face.

 

He was beautiful. So beautiful, and he was hers.

 

“Such a brave girl,” he murmured. “You’re doing so good, baby. So good. I’m proud of you. You keep holding on for me, okay?”

 

She closed her eyes. God how she had missed the soft, silken rasp of his voice. “I’m trying.”

 

“Taylor…”

 

She frowned, her brow furrowing with confusion and pain. His voice sounded different somehow. More distant and far away.

 

“Taylor, listen to me.”

 

She fought to open her eyes, but the lids felt so heavy, like they’d been coated in lead. Someone grabbed her fingers. They peeled them back and pressed something cool and hard firmly against the palm of her hand.

 

“You got to suck it up. Pull yourself together right now, kid. This is the only shot you got. Do you hear me?”

 

She nodded mutely. Everything hurt. She wanted desperately to fall asleep. Several rough pats to her cheeks jarred her awake.

 

“You can’t do that. Wake your ass up and gather your strength. The gate’s unlocked, kid, but the rest is gonna be on you. Run. You run as fast and as hard as you can. Head left and don’t look back.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

 

Sebastian stared at the man seated across from him. The tension and loathing brewing between them was palpable, a living malevolent force all of its own. Even the waitress seemed reluctant to draw near. She lingered behind the counter, watching the scene unfold with weary eyes. Outside, Jack Gill and a van full of other federal law enforcement officers waited, though no doubt Marx had standby of his own.

 

This was it. The final culmination of their talks. The man had one last chance to save his skin and come clean. His eyes narrowed as he studied the commander. Small beads of sweat glistened along his forehead, shimmering beneath the restaurant lights. The man was nervous. As he should be. The time for peaceable understanding was done. He had his crew in place, and thanks to his acquisition of Blue, one-by-one, Marx’s men were starting to fall.

 

Just this morning, he’d taken great delight in watching Bradley’s head explode in a fireworks show of fine, red mist. He was the tenth one this week and the numbers were just going to keep coming. Every time they poked their head above the surface, he would be waiting. Things were coming together and SKALS ranks were rapidly thinning. The government was geared and ready. It was all systems go. 

 

The only thing missing from that equation was Taylor.

 

Marx twisted the coffee mug between his hands and lifted his imposing gaze. “I understand your frustrations, Agent Baas. However, I’m sure you can understand my trepidation as well. Especially when I find myself staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. This war…this feud between us needs to end. I want you to come back, Sebastian.”

 

“I didn’t call you here to negotiate. Perhaps you misunderstood my terms. Your men took something of mine, and I want it back.”

 

“Why does it always come back to this? It was a horrible tragedy, Sebastian, but nothing is going to change the cold, hard fact that she’s gone.” 

 

Sebastian forced a slight smile. “With all due respect, I don’t believe a damn thing that comes out of your mouth. You’ve already proven you are a traitorous, lying son-of-a-bitch.”

 

“I don’t know what else to tell you. She’s gone. You need to stop wasting time. This killing spree you’ve been on is starting to annoy me, but I am willing to look past that given your current state of mind. I am willing to let bygones be bygones here, but this is the last chance you have. Either join forces with me or perish. Those are the only options you have left. You know what I have and you know where this is going.”

 

His quiet laugh was dry and devoid of humor as he shook his head. Leaning over, he braced his hands against the table and stared Marx in the eye until the commander shifted in his seat. “Let me tell you something. I don’t care what you have or what you destroy. Taylor is the only thing that matters to me. I don’t want to bring this organization to its knees, Marx, but I will. That is up to you to decide. I am not going to stop. I am not going to back down. I will keep coming at you, your men, and anyone else that gets in my way until I have her back.” His eyes watered, burning with a combination of grief and rage as he leveled a finger at the startled man. “Every ounce of that hatred and bloodlust that you instilled in me…that’s all coming for you. All of it. Mark my words. You underestimated the wrong man.”

 

“I don’t take well to threats, Sebastian. You should know that. I’ll tell you what--”

 

Sebastian cut him off with a sharp slice of his hand. His hard stare narrowed as he leaned even farther across the stained Formica tabletop. “I am done bartering. There is no Blue, Marx. Not anymore. Your computer systems and access codes are all shutting down as we speak. Next, I will gather every single agency and resource I can find and use them all to blow SKALS headquarters clear off the map. If I still don’t have her by the end of that, I will assume she is dead…and then…if I were you, I would hit my knees and pray because there is not a single crack or crevice on the face of this earth where you will be able to hide. You have two hours.”

 

Marx frowned. Though he tried to mask it, Sebastian could see the faint lines of worry crawling across the director’s craggy face. A small trickle of sweat rolled down his temple, tracing his rich chocolaty skin. Exhaling slowly, he lifted his gaze. The menace in his eyes had dimmed. They were now turbulent and troubled.

 

“If what you say is true, and I did have your lover somewhere….”

 

“Two hours. Those are my terms, asshole. Consider yourself warned.”