Bound by Vengeance (SKALS)

by Adriana Noir

  Marx offered a condescending smirk. “It will be in this instance.”

  Ignoring the uneasy prickle dancing across his nape, Sebastian forced a curt nod, his fists curling. Every instinct he had screamed not to wait, but now wasn’t the time to argue. Marx wouldn’t appreciate a judgment call in front of the rest of the team any more than he would. In fact, it was a good way for someone to get their ass handed to them or spend a few days locked down for reconditioning. Neither was something he could afford at the moment.

  Biding his time, Sebastian waited until Marx had finished congratulating the rest of the team and stepped out into the hall before leaving the room and falling into stride beside him. The big bull of a man shot him a curious glance but said nothing. He continued making his way down the dimly lit corridor to his office.

  Pausing outside his doors, Marx turned to him and lifted a thick brow. “What is it, Baas?”

  “With all due respect, sir, I think waiting is a mistake.”

  Marx cast open the anterior doors and gestured him inside. “Why would that be?”

  Sebastian waited until the director had finished pouring himself a tumbler of scotch and perched on the edge of the table. He doubted the liquor would thaw the wall of ice entombing the man’s heart, but it was possible it could help limber his thoughts. Declining an offer for glass with a polite shake of his head, he folded his arms behind his back and straightened. Standing in Marx’s office was akin to visiting the principal. It was never an enjoyable experience.

  “I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest to take Laychee down now, while he’s in plain sight and unattended. I find your decision to hold off baffling to say the least,” he stated in a measured tone.

  “I am sure you do, Sebastian. Perhaps you missed the part of the conversation where he said everything was in place, but I did not. Call me curious, but I would like to see what our little friend is up to.”

  “Call me cautious, but I would prefer we didn’t. This man has violated everything I hold dear. He had pictures of my family and damn near put me in a casket. I have no desire to see what he has planned next.”

  Marx downed his scotch and stood, wiping the corners of his mouth with his massive fingers. His deep ebony eyes swung in Sebastian’s direction and pinned him. “This isn’t about where you and your partner like to dip your wicks, Agent Baas. Nor is it some personal vendetta.”

  “Tell that to Laychee,” Sebastian said, stepping forward. “This isn’t about making money for him, or taking out some landmark. It’s about his brother. He’s not some fringe lunatic looking to make a name for himself and amp up his cause. He wants revenge.”

  “We don’t know that for sure, now do we, Sebastian?”

  “Open your fucking eyes, Marx!” He ignored the narrowing glint of the director’s stare. “None of this started until Todd became an issue. Steven Laychee wasn’t even on our map.”

  “An incident you incited.”

  He winced at the flat accusation. “He was out of line. He disrespected me in my home, in front of my team. You would have done the same.”

  “No, Sebastian,” Marx stated dryly. “I would have killed him, putting an end to any future problems right then and there. There was a time when you would have done the same. I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours lately, but I don’t like it. Not one bit. I believe the saying that applies best here is you made your bed. Now it’s time to lie in it.”

  His shoulders shook with a humorless laugh. Casting his arms out, he spread his palms and cocked his head. “So that’s it? You’re just going to let him kill me now?”

  “I never said that.”

  Sebastian frowned. His lips pursed into a firm white line as his eyes narrowed in understanding. Challenge sparked in the pits of Marx’s unwavering stare. The smug look riding the director’s craggy face was almost his undoing. Balling his fists, Sebastian backed toward the door, forced a cold smile, and pointed. “If he goes after my family, I’m coming after you.”

  “Don’t make threats, Sebastian. I don’t take kindly to them.”

  “Take it however you want,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “Just bear in mind who trained me and what they taught me to be.”

  Chapter 9 ~

  Shivering, Taylor burrowed deeper into the folds of her coat and adjusted her gloves. The late February air was cool and crisp, carrying with it a touch of winter and the vibrant promise of spring. Several wisps of hair had torn free from her loose ponytail and whipped against her face each time the wind swept down off the mountainous slopes. Henderson, the head of security, stood posted nearby with his rifle cradled in his arms as he watched her clean out the traces of dead leaves and stems from the beds lining the back of the house. Every once in a while, he would meet her curious glances with a smile or a nod. By the end of the afternoon, she’d decided he wasn’t as terrifying as she’d initially made him out to be. He looked to be slightly older than Sebastian’s thirty-two years, probably in his early to mid-forties. Errant strands of silver peppered his dark hair, and though his skin was weathered and creased from constant exposure to the elements lending him a rugged look, there was something quiet and subtly kind about the man.

  “Perhaps you should go inside for a while and warm up, Miss McAvay.”

  She startled slightly and turned to peer over her shoulder at the guard. It was the first time he’d spoken in the three hours she’d spent outside. Brushing a tickling strand of hair away from her nose with the back of her hand, she offered a sheepish grin. “I will. I just wanted to finish up this section first.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” A small smirk rode the corners of his lips as he gave an agreeing nod and turned his attention away.

  Biting her lip, Taylor grappled with conscience and pity. It never occurred to her just how many hours these men spent outside in the wind, snow, and cold over the past few months keeping them and their home safe. Despite the heated guard shack, she had no idea how they managed. She frowned noting the slight shiver running through the man. Standing, she brushed the dirt off the knees of her jeans and flashed a tentative grin as Henderson glanced her way.

  “I could go for a cup of hot chocolate,” she said. “Can I get you or your men anything while I’m in there?”

  A baffled look lent his stern features a comedic air before he regained his composure. “In all honesty, I would kill for a cup of coffee right about now, Ma’am, but I don’t want to put you through any trouble.”

  “Well, don’t go on a shooting spree just yet, Rambo,” she teased. “It’s no trouble. One hot coffee coming right up. It’s the least we can do. And please stop calling me Ma’am. I’m only twenty and you’re making me feel old.”

  He laughed. “Noted. Thank you for the offer, Miss McAvay. That’s very kind of you.”

  “It’s not kind, Henderson,” she said. “Just human.”

  Her face and hands tingled when the basking warmth of the house engulfed her, bringing a fresh surge of blood to her cold-numbed skin. Tugging off her gloves, she blew between her fingers to restore the feeling then grabbed two mugs. Within minutes, both cups were steaming and full. She gave Henderson a thankful smile when he pulled the sliding glass door open for her.

  “I wasn’t sure how you take it,” she apologized.

  “Black is wonderful, Ma—Miss McAvay. Thanks.”

  Scrunching her nose with a playful grin, she waved him off and made her way across the expansive wooden deck and back down into the yard. Henderson took the same post he’d maintained earlier a few feet away from her, planting himself between her and the rear stretch of the premises. Shaking her head, Taylor set her mug down beside her and resumed weeding out the dead debris. The hot chocolate helped warm her until it, too, turned cold from the relentless February air. She was almost finished when the sliding glass door slammed open. Rearing up on her knees, she peered up at a wide-eyed and disheveled Sebastian. His shoulders dropped with visible relief upon seeing her.

 
; “Hi, handsome,” she said, standing to look up at him over the rail. She froze when his eyes narrowed.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice a strained rasp.

  Confused, she furrowed her brow. “Picking up the yard a little bit before spring. What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, gripping the railing as he stared down at her. “What’s wrong is I was worried sick, Taylor. I tried calling you three times and got no answer. Then, I came home and searched the house high and low for you. It’s not your job to clean up the yard. That’s what I hire gardeners for. Get inside. Now.”

  Swallowing, she hung her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t ask what you knew. I told you to get in the house, Taylor. I suggest you do so now. Don’t make me say it again.”

  “Yes, Sebastian.”

  Henderson shifted uncomfortably. She colored as his dark brown eyes darted her way, his mouth turning down at the corners in a visible display of concern. After grabbing her mug off the ground, she hurried to jog up the steps. Sebastian glared down at her, shaking his head as he pulled the door open. She barely made it into the kitchen before his icy voice halted her in her tracks.

  “Is that one of our mugs, Henderson?”

  Taylor turned, wincing in apology behind Sebastian as the guard glanced between the two of them.

  “Uh…yes, sir. It is.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Give it to me.”

  Taylor backpedaled out of his way when he yanked the sliding door shut and rounded on her. The glowing ire in his eyes made her heart stutter and pound. His dry laugh made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end, and Taylor stood motionless as he scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck before flinging his arms out in askance.

  “I don’t even know where to start with you today.”

  “Sebastian, please, I’m--”

  He lifted a hand cutting her off. “No, Taylor. You’re not sorry. Not yet.”

  Her chest jerked with her shallow breaths as he prowled closer. Biting her lip, she took an uncertain step back, groping behind her for the support of the island in the kitchen.

  “Stop moving.”

  She trembled, fighting to get her body to comply. It was so damn hard when everything in her just wanted to run. Her legs threatened to buckle.

  “Would you like to explain to me how the head of security ended up with a cup from our house?” he asked, holding up the mug in question.

  Licking her lips, she tried to force the words past the dry, tight confines of her throat. “It was cold and I…he’d been standing there for hours watching over me. I thought he might be thirsty.”

  A terse smirk rode his lips. “You thought,” he stated, nodding. Approaching, he circled her in slow, deliberate steps. “I don’t think you thought about anything, Taylor. I keep those men stationed outside for a reason. I’ve told you before they are not here to socialize or provide you with entertainment. They are here to guard the premises and keep you safe. Nothing else.”

  “He was. Henderson stood there the whole time.”

  Sebastian flashed a patronizing smile. “Oh I’m sure he did, sweetheart. Gladly, and you decided to repay those efforts by what? Charming him and inviting him into our home for a cup of coffee?”

  Her face went numb as the blood drained out of it, leaving a tingling wake. Taylor swallowed, dragging her eyes up to his as she shook her head frantically. “No, Sebastian. He didn’t come inside. I swear. I would never do that to you. I would never disrespect you that way.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “You disobeyed me. You disappointed me in everything else today. Why not that, too?”

  She opened her mouth to answer but he silenced it with a stern shake of his head. Taylor whimpered when he snared her jaw with his free hand, the firm grip stilling her movements.

  “I told you I didn’t want you talking to those men. I made that and my reasons why perfectly clear, yet here we are. You are cozying up to them in my absence and what…sharing a cup of afternoon coffee?”

  He launched the mug across the kitchen. It hit the maple cupboards under the sink and shattered. Taylor whimpered, biting back a terrified sob. Her heart threatened to explode right out of the front of her chest as she watched chunks of porcelain scatter across the smooth travertine floor. The remainder of Henderson’s coffee pooled against the stones in a dark puddle. Sebastian’s fingers dug deeper.

  “Answer me,” he warned.

  “N-no. It…it wasn’t like that. I swear. I just felt sor-sorry for him.”

  His shoulders jerked with dry humor. “I feel sorry for you, Taylor,” he stated, softly stroking her hair. “Go wait for me upstairs.”

  Heart pounding, Taylor opened her mouth to beg him to believe her. The savage look in Sebastian’s eyes ripped away any hope of understanding or compassion. His lean body shook with the force of his anger. She swallowed hard and bowed her head as she slipped past him. If he had to repeat himself again, he might very well explode.

  Scaling the stairs took effort. If not for the solid support of the banister, she would have hit her knees. Her pulse roared in her ears as she opened the doors to the master suite. She considered locking them behind her, but knew it would only make things worse. He’d get in one way or another and then she would pay twice as bad. If she was lucky enough to get off that easy. She’d lived long enough to know luck was seldom on any McAvay’s side.

  Lowering onto the lush micro suede loveseat in the sitting room, she pulled off her coat and wrung the hem of her tee shirt in her lap. The minutes ticked by into an agonizing eternity while her stomach rolled and twisted into sickening knots. A block of dread closed around her heart as she watched the numbers on the wall clock shift. Somehow, the suspense made things so much worse. She wondered if Sebastian knew that and decided he did. It was what he wanted. Certain she was going to ruin her shirt for good, she forced her attention elsewhere and traced abstract patterns on the soft beige fabric covering the cushions.

  Her head snapped up at the soft click of the latch releasing in the doors. Her heartbeat pounded in the base of her throat as she watched Sebastian pull them shut behind him. When he stepped into the room, it took everything she had not to fling herself at his feet and beg forgiveness. His hands clenched behind his back and her terrified brain couldn’t help wondering if that was to prevent them from going around her neck. She swallowed.

  “You’re a lucky girl, Taylor, so very lucky,” he said softly. “Witnesses and evidence support your story.”

  Witnesses and evidence? She barely had time to ponder his words before relief rushed through her trembling body, and she opened her mouth to thank him. A quick slash of his hand through the air locked the words in her throat.

  “That doesn’t let you off the hook. It doesn’t change the fact that you disobeyed me and showed a complete lack of common sense. You aren’t a stupid woman, Taylor. Why is it that you insist on making bad decisions? No,” he said, shaking his head as if to correct himself. “It doesn’t matter why. You are fortunate to have me to look out for you. This is something we will continue to work on together.”

  Fresh terror froze the blood in her veins. When words failed her, she held up an imploring hand.

  “Get undressed.”

  Her head shook franticly as his hands landed on the heavy buckle of his belt. She was positive only her obedient fingers fumbling with her clothing kept him from snapping at her silent denial.

  “What part of that can you possibly disagree with, Taylor? Does it seem sensible to you with everything going on for you to kneel out in the open for hours where Laychee or a sniper could pick you off? Is it a sound decision to distract a bodyguard from his job with idle chit chat or to fill hands meant to be around a gun with a coffee mug?”

  A sob broke in her throat as she shook her head harder. A brief glimmer of desire lit his pale eyes as they raked over her now naked form. Sebastian’s ex
pression hardened before he turned away and a deep stab of guilt mingled with the fear wracking her from the inside out. The metal belt buckle jangled as he pulled the strap free and used it to point to the end of the bed.

  “You know the routine.”

  Burying her face in the comforter did nothing to muffle her cry when the belt sliced through the air and landed across the back of her thighs with a startling snap. An instant line of fire ignited in its wake. Another followed in quick suit, wresting a strangled scream from her throat. The thick strap bit into her skin in a series of rapid strikes. Fisting the black and silver blankets, she writhed in place, trying to diffuse the sting. The blows came harder. Realizing her mistake, Taylor stilled in surrender. She stiffened, crying out as the menacing kiss of leather branded her body. It licked across her thighs and the swell of her ass, leaving a slow, deliberate burn until her sobs, too, ceased.

  The gentle glide of Sebastian’s fingers was jarring. She whimpered as they rekindled the lines of fire that branched across her flesh. She shuddered, biting back a cry when he cupped the upturned globes of her ass and molded them in his palms. A low groan vibrated in the base of her throat as the sting increased and snaked across her skin.

  “You are very lucky, Taylor,” he mused in a quiet rasp. “Things would have been so much worse if you had lied to me. So much worse. Don’t ever disobey me or go against my wishes again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sebastian.” Taylor sniffled, trembling as his hands continued their slow journey over her body. He leaned over her and his breath fell scalding against her skin.

  “You are mine,” he whispered against her ear. “Don’t forget that, Taylor. I will never share you with another man. Never.”

  She tensed upon hearing the telltale rustle of clothing behind her. A renewed surge of fear danced through her shell-shocked system. “I know, Sebastian. I don’t want anyone else but you. I swear.”

  He wound his fist in her hair and tugged her head back sharply. She moaned as he kissed the side of her neck and ground his erection against the welted globes of her ass. “That’s a very good thing, sweetheart,” he murmured into the arch of her throat, “because I would kill him before I ever let that happen.”