No amount of whiskey could tamp down the hatred and disgust battering his system from the inside out. There was no point in even trying. Every time he looked at Marx, accusations burned hot and flashes of an unspeakable future played out like a kaleidoscope of horror in his head. Lending voice to either right now or giving into the urge to pick up a bottle and dull his senses would only get him killed. He needed his mind sharp, even if that meant feeling every nuance of bitterness and pain. Until then, his only hope in all of this was to play along and continue to be an invaluable asset in their director’s eyes. Unfortunately, that was not an easy façade to maintain when he couldn’t even look at the man. Even a few feet away, Marx’s presence was smothering and Sebastian had to keep his back turned as he stared out the window.

 

“I will be docking your pay for skipping out early,” Marx warned.

 

“Do what you have to,” Sebastian countered dryly.

 

“This isn’t a personal vendetta against you, Baas. We have standards here and rules to maintain.”

 

“I am well aware of both. As I said, do what you have to.” He watched Marx’s stalwart nod in the reflective glare of the windowpane.

 

“How is she?” the director asked, crossing the room to settle his heavy bulk onto one of the leather armchairs.

 

Sebastian bit his cheeks to keep his sarcasm and hostility at bay. As much as he wanted to think Marx was innocent, he’d seen nothing so far to convince him the man was. Not with Taylor’s accident, and not with Project Blue. In fact, he could take the sudden act of concern and shove it straight up his ass as far as Sebastian was concerned.

 

“Let’s skip the friendly banter,” he growled, turning from the window with a cold gleam in his eye. “Taylor is alive and we both know that’s far from the outcome you desired.”

 

The guards stationed in the room shifted, but said nothing. Their presence alone was a good indication Marx knew where this conversation was going to go.

 

The commander’s lips twitched at the corners and he stroked a finger over his close-cropped moustache. “That may be true, but you are sorely mistaken if you think this botched assassination attempt had anything to do with me.”

 

“Am I?” Sebastian asked. A hard tremble ran through him and he locked his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for his gun. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone in my family has died at the hands of an unfortunate car accident.”

 

“That may be true, but as you can see, there is a definite difference in results. If I wanted your fiancée dead, she would be. I don’t make mistakes, Sebastian, and my work is not that shoddy. Perhaps you should have taken her questionable driving record into account before buying the woman a car.”

 

Uncoiling his fingers, Sebastian stroked the pistol holstered at his thigh, the weighted metal both cold and reassuring beneath his touch. “Maybe,” he stated softly. He refused once again to look the director’s way, but he kept a careful eye on the man’s muscled bulk in the window’s reflection. “If that is the case, you will be willing to help me find out who is responsible for this. I want answers, Marx, and I’m not stopping until I find them.”

 

“I suggest you focus your attention on the task at hand.”

 

“I’ve been looking for James. I have always done everything you’ve asked of me. I hardly think this is asking for too much in return.”

 

“You didn’t report for work for two days. Am I supposed to be impressed by this performance?”

 

Sebastian bristled and the already perilous hold he had on his temper started to slip. It had always been like this with Marx—a constant battle of push and pull. Only this time, the barbs cut deep and burrowed beneath his skin. Some things, once unearthed, could not be covered or contained again. Turning, he met the larger man’s condemning stare.

 

“That may be true,” he countered in a venomous whisper. “And I am sure Josh filled you in on where I was, but that wasn’t necessary, was it? You knew damn well where I was. You knew what happened to Taylor. You knew she was laying in the hospital, possibly dying, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. Now?” He gave a coarse laugh. “Now you refuse to help me look into things? What am I supposed to think here?” he asked, casting his arms open.

 

“This isn’t a fucking democracy and we don’t lend out helping hands. Get your head in the game and stop focusing your efforts elsewhere. I don’t care where you like to bury your dick or how good she is in bed. I’m not wasting company time or resources on your whore. If you’d kept your damn pet under foot where she belongs instead of letting her run around with your security guard, none of this would have happened in the first place. If you want answers, Agent Baas, I suggest you take a long, hard look in the mirror. Your home life is lax, your team is in shambles. Pull them both together or I swear, with God and country as my witness, I will rip them both away.”

 

 That was all it took. The fragile hold he had on himself unraveled and snapped. Hands hooking, he reached for his gun and lunged. One of the guards stationed between them sprung to Marx’s defense and a hard shove sent him staggering backwards. Before he could react, another lowered their weapon and flung their arms around him, trying to wrestle him to the floor in a constrictive restraint. A second quickly joined the fray.

 

The threat of lockdown and reconditioning bore down on him, adding to his panic and anger.

 

“Get the fuck off me!” he roared, struggling to break free. 

 

A hard strike with the crown of his head sent one of the guards stumbling. Fighting against the stab of pain and blindness it inflicted, Sebastian threw a fierce elbow, stunning the other. Still dazed by the hazy cloud lingering in front of his eyes, he jerked his pistol free. The cold click of the safety ricocheted through the room as he stumbled back, swinging the barrel between the two men. The first only managed a step in his direction before the Desert Eagle’s blast roared like a cannon and blew the man’s chest open. Trapped in the same lethal sights, the partner froze, hesitation and terror evident in the wide flare of his eyes.

 

The doors to his office burst open and Sebastian whirled, his gun swinging in his grip. Thrown off balance by a sudden surge from behind, he sprawled belly first across the floor with a frantic guard on top of him. Black swarmed around him. Bruising fingers bit into his hands and arms, struggling to pin them down and pull his gun free. Sebastian relinquished it with little fight. The gesture threw them off enough to lend them pause. Cashing in on their distraction, he wrenched the knife sheathed against his thigh free and whipped his head back. The back of his skull connected with the other man’s face with a sickening crack. Warm liquid cascaded down his neck. Its coppery tang flooded his nostrils, heightening his instincts. It was the fuel he needed.

 

He rolled with the guard on top of him, fighting in a struggling frenzy of arms and legs. A rifle butt connected with the side of his temple in warning. Darkness threatened, blacking out the world in front of his eyes, but he wrenched up with all his might. The blade met resistance at first but stuttered past the barrier of bone and sank deep into the man’s chest. Sebastian’s own heaved as he pushed against the crushing weight, his face purpling with exertion and anger.

 

“BAAS!” Josh’s panicked voice joined the fray.

 

Before he could seek his partner, the business end of an assault rifle slammed against his temple hard enough to rattle his teeth. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself as the barrel prodded deeper. Stilling, he regarded the flushed man looming over him. The guard’s face set with determination and his wide shoulders tensed as his finger tightened around the trigger.

 

“That’s enough,” Marx ordered. His voice was quiet but firm. “As displeasing as it is, I need Agent Baas alive.” The director remained inclined against his desk with his arms folded, but a pleasured gleam illuminated the dark pits of his eyes making them shimmer beneath the lights. “You have one of two choices here, Sebastian. Either drop this ridiculous rampage or I will go to the hospital right now and put a bullet in your lover’s skull. Which is it going to be?”

 

His chest heaved as he closed his eyes and forced his heart rate to slow. It took several seconds before he managed to pull himself together enough to speak.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I had no doubts you were,” Marx countered. “But that wasn’t the question.”

 

“I’ll stop,” he growled, still struggling for breath between clenched teeth.

 

“Good to hear. Lower your weapon and let him up.”

 

The guard above Sebastian hesitated. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but he slowly eased the rifle away. Taking a step back, he kept his finger curled around the trigger as Sebastian grunted and struggled to his feet. Ignoring the man, he resheathed his knife and tugged his bloodied uniform back into place, still fighting with the heaviness of anger and exertion crushing his chest.

 

Marx smirked as his steady gaze swept over the carnage. “It looks like I need to find some replacements,” he said, rising to his feet. “Those expenses will come out of your pay as well.”

 

Sebastian bit his tongue. He didn’t give a damn about the money and Marx knew it. It was just another way to try to needle him and crawl under his skin. The silence was thick between them and his heart hammered as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

 

“I find this display of emotion deeply troubling to say the least.”

 

“Sir, with all due respect, Baas has--”

 

“Did I ask for your input, Agent Reevers?” Marx snapped, interrupting him.

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Then do yourself a favor and get the hell out!”

 

Sebastian felt his lip curl in response. Grinding his teeth, he watched his partner cast a worried glance in his direction and reluctantly leave, dragging his feet as he went. Marx stared after him, shaking his head in disgust, before turning his attention back to Sebastian.

 

“Do you see where this path will lead you, Agent Baas? Your men, for the most part, are loyal. Much like your family, they will follow you blindly. Think twice about the steps you take and where they might lead.”

 

A sickening burst of copper flooded his mouth as he sank his teeth into his cheeks. Little did the bastard know he’d managed to think of little else over the past few days.

 

“Tell me something,” Marx said, circling closer as he adjusted his silver rings.

 

His stomach rolled in a bout of uncertainty and regret. What would happen to Taylor if Marx locked him down? He shook, his breathing still labored, as he struggled to calm himself down. As terrifying as the notion was, it wasn’t in his nature to buckle or cave. Tracking the man with his eyes, he stood his ground, refusing to grovel or beg.

 

“Do you consider yourself a fortunate man, Sebastian?”

 

He pondered that, still uncertain of the man’s game. “In some aspects, yes,” he replied evenly.

 

Marx responded with a curt nod. “As well you should. I shouldn’t just lock you down. I should exterminate you for the stunt you just pulled. You are beyond fortunate that your precious little whore is laid up in the hospital right now, because if she wasn’t I would have one of my men yank her in here so damn fast your head would spin. If you ever pull that rabid dog routine again, I guarantee you that is exactly what will happen. Do I make myself clear?”

 

His heart seized in his chest. Of all the things the man could have said to him, of all the things he could do, that was the worst. The poisoning sear of rage scalded him from the inside out, burning like napalm in his veins. Out of instinct alone, his eyes raked over the floor in search of his gun only to come up empty. Another effective blow. He drew one deep breath and then another, forcing himself to simmer down and swallow what little remained of his pride.

 

“Yes, sir. Crystal,” he ground through clenched teeth.

 

“Excellent. I am glad we’ve reached an understanding. That said, I highly suggest you pull yourself together and prove me right in that assessment. Though they wouldn’t be nearly as competent, there are plenty of other men willing to do your job.”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” he growled.

 

Shooting the bodies sprawled across the floor a brief look of contempt, Marx smoothed his uniform. “Take the rest of the afternoon off. I expect to see you back here tomorrow. Hopefully by then you’ll have your head on straight.”

 

His eyes narrowed at the lack of time, but he said nothing.

 

“Inform Reevers you’re leaving and get someone to clean up this mess,” Marx ordered with a hint of disgust.

 

Dragging his bloody hands through his hair, Sebastian watched the commander leave. Once alone, his pale gaze riveted on the guard lingering to his left.

 

“You heard the man,” he bit out coldly. “Get them out of here and get out of my sight.”

 

“Sir…I…”

 

Sebastian cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I’m not interested in your apologies. If you ever point a gun at my head again, someone will be scraping you off the floor as well. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, sir. Extremely.”

 

Shooting him a dour look, Sebastian shouldered past and made his way into the corridor. Josh was lying in wait. His partner immediately sprung off the wall, his blue eyes wide and bewildered.

 

“Jesus, Baas,” he said, lifting his hands in a precursory search. “What the hell happened in there? Are you okay?”

 

Sebastian batted him away without losing stride. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I’m grabbing a shower and going home. You’re going to have to take things over until tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?” Josh jogged a few steps to catch up. Worry and disbelief crawled across the creases lining his brow. “Are you serious? That’s all the time he’s giving you?”

 

“Does it look like either one of us are in the mood to joke around?”

 

“No, Baas. It doesn’t.” Josh scrubbed a hand across his jaw and shook his head. “Jesus. I know the guy is an ass sometimes, but that’s a bit ridiculous. Is Taylor even going to be out of the hospital by then?”

 

Sebastian froze, causing his partner to stumble beside him. As much as he tried to keep his temper under control, he could feel the venom etch his features. Josh flinched, seeing the same. 

 

“Did you really expect anything different, Josh?” Drawing a deep breath, he reminded himself that none of this was his partner’s fault. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I don’t know. All I know right now is they want to keep Taylor a few more hours for observation. There’s a lot going on and I don’t have any answers.”

 

“What can I do, Baas?”

 

“You can start by finding her car. This wasn’t an accident.”

 

“Wait…what?” Josh said, fumbling to grab his arm. “What’re you talking about?”

 

“Someone tampered with her car. From the sounds of it, they punched the brakes as well. I want that vehicle swept from top to bottom for prints, fibers, anything that will get me some answers.”

 

“Yeah, okay, buddy. You got it.”

 

Sebastian thumped his shoulder in a brief show of gratitude. Josh’s voice halted him halfway down the hall.

 

“Hey—do you want me to call Mo and see if she will sit with Taylor for a few days?”

 

He paused and mulled the offer over. As convenient as it would be, he didn’t want his sister on the road by herself. Not until he had a better idea of what was going on and who was behind it. “Not yet. Until we find out what happened, it would be best if you saw to it that she stayed home. I’ll call you later.”

 

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

 

 

 

Taylor breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the garage door rolled shut behind them. As heavenly as those first few breaths of fresh air had been upon leaving the hospital, the blinding sun had wreaked havoc on her head. She’d tried to search for Rupert when they’d pulled through the gates, but the light felt like hot pokers lancing her eyes and she’d been forced to close them. Beside her, Sebastian killed the motor and shifted in his seat to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and spring her seatbelt free.

 

“Stay put, baby,” he ordered softly. “I don’t want you trying to get out by yourself.”

 

She nodded as much as she could manage. His fingers skimmed her forehead in a gentle caress, his green eyes so wounded and apologetic it damn near broke her heart.

 

“I’m okay, Seb,” she reassured him, leaning into his hand when it trailed down to tenderly cup the side of her cheek.

 

“I know,” he said, though his voice didn’t sound nearly as convincing as his claim. “I’m going to grab your bag out of the back first. Just sit tight for a second.”

 

Frowning to herself, she studied him in the side view mirror as he rounded the back of the Benz. The last few days had taken an unmistakable toll. Grim shadows stretched beneath his eyes, and the chiseled lines of his face appeared even harder and more pronounced. Whatever had transpired between him and Marx had only seemed to amplify that. Even when he smiled, his expression was tired and strained. Her throat tightened knowing she was partially to blame. The accident might not have been her fault, but it was definitely the cause of his stress. He needed rest and a hot, home-cooked meal. What he didn’t need was the added pressure of trying to take care of her.

 

Slinging the small duffel bag over his shoulder, Sebastian briefly met her eyes in the side mirror as he bumped the back door shut. 

 

The press of his body was warm and comforting as he eased her up the steps in the garage and into the laundry room. Dropping the bag beside the washer, he steered her inside. She breathed deep, relishing the familiar scents of home. Worn leather, wood and clean all washed over her, and her eyes drifted shut in a momentary bid of bliss. Sebastian faltered beside her.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his face looming close and creased with concern. “I’m better than okay,” she said softly. “I’m home.”

 

 Sebastian’s mouth curved, exposing a teasing glimpse of his dimples. “That you are, darling,” he said, kissing the side of her temple. “And you have no idea how glad I am to have you here.”

 

“You’re just saying that because you didn’t care much for squeezing into my hospital bed or dozing in the chair,” she teased.

 

Much to her delight, he stared down at her for a long second before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “There is that. I won’t deny missing my bed, Taylor. Perhaps more importantly, I missed having you in it. Let’s get you upstairs. You are going to take a nice relaxing soak, get washed up, and then in our bed is exactly where you’re going to be.”

 

“Sebastian…”

 

He silenced her, pressing a gentle forefinger to her lips. “Stop. No arguing, Taylor. This is what’s best for you and you know it.”

 

She did, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Unable to conceal her disappointment, her mouth twisted into a sullen pout. His gaze narrowed, burning into her, and she kissed the tip of his finger.

 

“I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I just want to be with you.”

 

Sebastian’s expression softened some. “I know, baby, but this isn’t a negotiation and I’m not discussing the terms.”

 

She sighed quietly to herself and allowed him to lead her up the stairs. Once in the bathroom, he turned the water on and added a generous amount of her scented oils beneath the churning stream. Taking advantage of his distraction, Taylor peeled out of her clothes, hoping to get as much done as she could before he turned her way. The look in his eyes when they met hers warned he was far from pleased.

 

“Get in the tub.”

 

His tone was clipped. Lowering her head, Taylor eased past him. He took her elbow, helping to steady and guide her as she stepped over the ledge. Not needing to be told twice, she eased into the water and sank down until the warm waves lapped against her skin. Sebastian folded a plush burgundy towel and draped it over the ledge of the sunken tub. Curious, she watched as he took a seat beside her.

 

“Tip your head back,” he commanded.

 

It took effort not to argue. More than anything, she wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she could take care of herself, but it was Sebastian and she knew it would be pointless. If helping her was what he wanted, that was what was going to happen. Instead, she studied his face, wondering what had happened between him and Marx as Sebastian wet her hair. It was so hard not to press for information, if for no other reason than to just make sure he was okay, but when it came to SKALS, there had always been a very strict ‘don’t ask’ policy between them. If he wanted her to know something, he would tell her.

 

Wrapping her arms around her knees, Taylor sat huddled as Sebastian lathered a generous amount of shampoo between his hands. The fragrant burst of cashmere seemed to fill the entire room. Her mind tried to focus on his actions as he scrubbed her scalp, working the soap into a thick lather. The gentle, but vigorous, scrub of his fingers felt like heaven. Closing her eyes, she let a contented sigh part her lips as he rinsed her, then conditioned her tresses and repeated the process again. By the time he’d finished rubbing down her body, she felt like a pampered, boneless heap.

 

Leaning over the tub, he cradled the back of her head, his lips claiming hers in a slow, drugging kiss. Taylor moaned against him. Pain or not, her body still responded with hunger to his touch. He kissed her again, this time his lips curving in amusement against hers.

 

“Mmm. That’s my girl,” he praised.

 

Grabbing a towel, Sebastian eased her up and hit the drain for the plug. She clung to his biceps unsteadily, unable to find the strength to stand on her own. After wrapping the fluffy warmth around her shoulders, he scooped her up and lifted her from the tub. Relieved, her arms sought immediate purchase around his neck. His hold tightened in a reassuring squeeze.

 

“It’s okay. I got you, sweetheart,” he murmured, drawing her against his chest.

 

She pressed her nose against his neck and breathed his warm, woodsy scent as he carried her out of the bathroom and laid her on the bed. He stripped the wet towel away and peeled the covers back before drawing them up to tuck them under her chin.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed beside her.

 

“No. Not yet.”

 

“Soon then.” Leaning over her, he kissed the top of her head. “Josh will be here shortly and I have a few things I need to take care of. I’ll be downstairs. If you need me, just holler, but I really want you to just take it easy for a bit and try to take a nap.”

 

“Okay. Can you stay here for just a few minutes though?”

 

Running his fingers through her hair, he winked. “Absolutely.”

 

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against his side. She rested her head against his chest and snuggled closer into the warm cradle of his body. Toying with the buttons on his uniform, she closed her eyes as he trailed his fingers up and down her back.

 

“Seb?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Was Marx upset that you spent so much time at the hospital?”

 

She could feel the hesitation thrumming through him as he grappled with his words and how much to share.

 

“Marx wasn’t pleased,” he admitted quietly, “but he will get over it. I don’t want you worrying about these things, Taylor. It doesn’t matter. I’m here and that’s what’s important.”

 

She nodded, but couldn’t ignore the dread crawling through her. Short of him dying, SKALS locking Sebastian away again topped her list of nightmares. He’d barely made it back to her last time, and she would never forget the array of bruises and burns marring his beautiful skin. Some of those scars still remained. As if sensing the dark turn her mind had taken, he tipped her face up toward him.

 

His breath fell warm and soft against her skin and carried a faint hint of spearmint as he rubbed a slow circle against her belly. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

 

“No. I’m okay.”

 

“You know it’s not going to hurt the baby. The doctor promised the stuff he was sending home was safe. You don’t need to suffer, darling.”

 

Turning slightly, she traced the strong outline of his jaw. “I know, but doctors say that all the time. All you see nowadays are commercials for lawyers and civil suits against medications doctors used to think were safe. Even Tylenol isn’t as harmless as people once thought it was. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

 

Capturing her hand, he kissed her fingertips. “I love you, baby, and I admire the fact that you are trying to be strong. Just don’t cause yourself any unnecessary hardships in the process.”

 

“I’m not, Seb. I promise.”

 

“Okay.” The indents framing his cheeks dimpled with his smile as he dropped his gaze to her stomach and once again started rubbing lazy circles across her navel.

 

“I know that look,” she accused. “You’re up to no good.”

 

His soft laugh rolled through the room and made her heart soar.

 

“I was just thinking about some other things the doctor told me.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Our sex life can actually be beneficial to the baby. Something about the rocking motion and contractions soothing them inside the womb.”

 

She couldn’t contain her laughter. The amused shimmying elicited a fresh wave of pain in her battered system, but she rode it out, caressing his face with a mixture of appreciation and surprise. His grin widened and he dropped his forehead to rest against her temple. He turned, leaning his body over hers but keeping his weight braced above her on his arms. Taylor squirmed as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, igniting a fierce spark of desire. It had only been a few days, but she missed his body and his touch.

 

“I’m warning you right now,” he rumbled. “Argue with me on that one and I am going to dig my heels in.”

 

“I’m going to have to take your word for it.”

 

“Such blind faith,” he teased.

 

“It is. You got to see the baby, hear its heartbeat, and ask all kinds of questions. All I got was some pictures and a bunch of stupid pamphlets.”

 

“We will get you in again soon, sweetheart. I promise. He gave me the name of a doctor who would be willing to help, despite the inconveniences. They run a family practice and are willing to make house calls if need be, so no one would be any the wiser.”

 

Sighing, she settled her head back down against their pillows. She stroked the blanket he’d draped over them, using the luxurious buttery texture as a means of distraction. “Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy?” she whispered, trying to mask her disappointment.

 

“No. It was still too soon for that. Another two months or so and we should know.”

 

“Do you want to know, or do you think we should wait and have it be a surprise?”

 

Sebastian blew out a deep breath and his brow creased with thought as he took her hand and twined his fingers through hers. “I’ve never been big on surprises, sweetheart. I, myself, would like to know, just so we can prepare and fill the nursery with things until our hearts are content. Either way, it’s going to be a surprise when we find out. One way is just sooner than the other.”

 

“True…”

 

“But,” he said, pausing, “if you want to wait until the baby is born, I will try my best to understand and accept that. I should warn you, though. I can be extremely persuasive when it comes to getting my way.”

 

Another laugh bubbled up inside her and she leveled him with a look of sarcasm. “No, really?”

 

“Really, darling,” he whispered, though his attention had already drifted to her navel again.

 

“Seb?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You’re worse with the baby than most men are with boobs. My eyes are up here, handsome.”

 

Laughing, he swung his gaze back up to her face. Her cheeks flushed with a pleasant warmth as she found herself trapped beneath his heated stare. The slow smile curving his lips was both sinister and reproachful as his eyebrow lifted in warning.

 

“One of these days, that sweet little mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.”

 

She colored at the implication and wrested her gaze away from his. “It already has,” she muttered.

 

“Mmm. So you do remember,” he said, tracing a slow path along the curve of her cheek. His lips followed their path before he leaned in to steal a brief kiss. “We’ve both procrastinated long enough. Get some sleep.”