Edge of Obsession (SKALS #3)

by Noir, Adriana

  She froze, snapping to rigid attention upon hearing the forceful boom in his voice. A small shudder wound through her body, making it tremble against his. Stroking the back of her head, Sebastian buried his nose in her hair.

  “Stop fighting me,” he warned. “I love you, Taylor. You are my entire world. Nothing is ever going to change that and nothing is ever going to tear me away from you. I promise.”

  Much to his relief, she relaxed some in his arms.

  “Then what is it? Why won’t you tell me?”

  “I can’t. Josh doesn’t even know the full extent of things right now. You have to trust me, Taylor. You have to believe everything I’m doing is to protect you and make a better life for us. I swear to you, I will do that with my dying breath if that’s what it takes.”

  She paled. “Sebby…”

  “Shh. I shouldn’t have blown up like that. Work is just starting to get under my skin. We’re fine, baby. Everything is going to be fine,” he soothed, planting a tender kiss against her head. “Go back to bed. I will be up to join you in a minute.”

  “I don’t feel good.”

  “All the more reason for you to get some sleep,” he murmured.

  He brushed his lips across her brow in gentle search. If anything, her skin felt cool and clammy. Concern washed away the final remnants of his anger, and Sebastian’s eyes drifted shut. She tried to hide it, but she’d been tiring easily since they’d been home. He felt a twinge of guilt knowing the evening had probably been too much for her.

  “Don’t worry about anything tomorrow. I’ll bring dinner home. You just stay in bed and take it easy. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard and too fast.”

  “It’s just nerves. I’ll be okay.”

  “What did I just say?” he asked, the hard edge creeping back into his voice. “It’s not worth you running yourself into the ground. This isn’t up for discussion. Get your butt in bed and keep it there or I will make you wish you had. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal,” she grumbled.

  Fisting her hair, he wrenched her closer. Using her startled gasp to his benefit, he crushed his mouth against her parted lips. Taylor slackened in his grip, her body melding against his in a humble show of acceptance.

  “Lose the attitude,” he warned, rubbing the sting out of the back of her head before he released her. “Don’t keep pushing me, Taylor. The next time you do, I guarantee you won’t like how I rein you back in.”

  “Yes, Sebastian. Goodnight.”

  “Night, baby.”

  He watched her pad down the hall with a slow shake of his head. From the beginning, he’d conditioned her to respond to his touch. He’d wanted her to need him, to crave him as surely as she craved the air she breathed. What he hadn’t counted on was the way those games would affect him. That desire cut both ways. A mere kiss spurred instant hunger. His body ached with longing and the desperate need to be inside her again, despite the fact that they were both exhausted and sore. Cursing, Sebastian levered off the doorframe and started picking up his office. He’d hoped the mindless actions would cool his blood and dampen his desire but, in the end, it was the memories of what had happened that ultimately dosed those flames.

  Fingers curled around his mouth, Sebastian stared at the wall and watched the seconds tick by. His thoughts were a frantic whirlwind. The morning meeting had gone well, but Marx’s plans had thrown a definite wrench into his plans. The director was bringing in fresh blood, new members to fill the vacant slots in the team. Not only did that mean the added hassle of training those men, but it meant unforeseen obstacles as well. Extra wild cards he didn’t need. He couldn’t help but think it was a shrewd move on the commander’s end, and that led him to wonder what bases Marx was trying to cover.

  Then there was phase two, the expansion of power. Whatever the hell that was. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the entire scope of that project or what it might entail. All he knew was it wasn’t good. His instincts warned as much, and his instincts never lied.

  Frustrated with the silence and continued profanity of his thoughts, he pressed the intercom and requested the guards summon Vince.

  The door swung open a few minutes later. Once inside, the newly promoted intelligence officer glanced around and seemed to slump with relief upon not seeing Josh. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he wondered what kind of tension was brewing between the two of them. Lowering his face into the shield of his tented fingers, he squeezed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to mask his annoyance.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “I did,” he managed. “Did you have a chance to look into things?”

  “Yes, sir.” Vince gave a stalwart nod of his dark blond head.

  “Good. Enlighten me. Who was working that night?”

  “No one else was on call that night besides yourself, Agent Chase, and Marx.”

  He sat up straighter and frowned. “No one?”

  “No one. As strange as that is, there’s more.”

  Sebastian urged the man on with an impatient wave of his hand. “I don’t have all day, Vincent. Continue.”

  “The short staff raised some questions, but not nearly as much as the lack of security. We usually have a minimum of twenty armed guards securing the premises at night. That evening, only four stayed on the clock.”

  His eyes narrowed with that little bit of information. “Anything else?” he bit out coldly.

  His teammate shifted from one foot to the other and lowered his head. “No, sir.”

  “Good work. That will be all.”

  “Sir?”

  “You are dismissed, Agent Pellagreeni,” he repeated, impatience marking his tone.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He waited until the door closed before sagging against the back of his seat. Scowling, he tapped finger against the top of his dark teak desk, his mind spinning. Four guards was an interesting bit of information indeed. Only Marx could sanction such an extreme cut back. The only question was why? Why would the commander make such a dramatic cut in security with Lychee and his crew on the loose? Part of him desperately wanted to rationalize things and make them fit.

  Maybe Marx had hoped for a slow night.

  He shook his head. It was too risky. With everything else going on, security should have been heightened, not diminished. What was the son-of-a-bitch plotting?

  He frowned. Maybe Marx hadn’t counted on him phoning his partner that night. Without Josh and that safety net in place, Laychee would have taken him out for sure. Without Henderson, Taylor would have died. Then what?

  He grasped at different scenarios, but only one seemed obvious. Laychee and Chase would have been free to march into headquarters using Dominic’s access card. Four guards wouldn’t have posed much of a challenge to either man, especially if they had the added help of Laychee’s men.

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled and chills raced down his arms. That was the play Marx had been hoping for. It was smart. Even if things had backfired, he still could’ve used Chase turning as a scapegoat—an easy explanation as to why the men were there. Mind whirling, Sebastian replayed the conversation he’d had with his teammate in the damp confines of the warehouse. Dominic had been prattling on about their service to other agencies being a waste of time—how it was stupid to be content with the scraps SKALS offered when they could have the whole damn buffet. At the time, he’d thought Laychee was the one who’d been whispering the poison into the man’s ear. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  His stomach clenched and a hot splash of acid seared the back of his throat as he remembered Marx raving about his plans to take SKALS and its power to unimaginable heights. What would their next move would have been?

  Blowing out a shaky breath, he returned his focus to the mound of paperwork still piled on his desk. He couldn’t do this now. Not here. A short while later, his door swung open without warning. The furious reprimand he was about to give the guard died on his tongue as he watched Marx shove his way in
to the room. Careful to keep his expression neutral, Sebastian lifted a brow.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is.” Marx tossed a thick packet down in front of him. Generous lips spread into a smug tilt beneath his close-cropped moustache. “A new assignment just came through. Acquaint yourself with the details. I expect your team briefed in the morning.”

  Sebastian glanced up in irritation as he spotted one of the new guys creeping into his office. “Consider it done, and you…get the hell out of here,” he ordered, snapping his fingers at the recruit and pointing toward the door.

  “Not so fast, Baas. I want you and your partner to take Agent Lane under your wings and keep him up to speed. He will be working alongside you on this project.”

  Sebastian didn’t bother containing his scoff. “Marx…come on. He has no clue what he’s doing. I have enough on my plate. Give the guppy to somebody else.”

  “I want the guppy, as you call him, to become a shark. The only way he’s going to manage that is if he swims with the big boys. Chew him up and spit him out if you must, but he stays.”

  “Fine,” Sebastian growled. It was hard, so damn hard, to stay seated when everything in him just wanted to back the man against a wall and shove his gun under the bastard’s chin. “Anything else?”

  “No, but I want a plan of action on my desk first thing in the morning.”

  “Understood. You’ll have it.”

  “Glad to hear it, Baas. Enjoy your evening.”

  He offered a dry snort in response, his jaw clenching while he watched the commander leave. The new guy took the departure as his cue to approach. Sebastian halted him with a frosty glare.

  The young man faltered and lifted his chin. “It really is an honor to work with you, Agent Baas. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m more than happy to pitch in and help however I can. Maybe I could treat you and Agent Reevers to dinner. We can go over the files then?”

  “I don’t know you, let alone want to socialize with you,” Sebastian said, turning his attention back to the stack of paperwork.

  “Sir, the way I see it, the only way we are going to get to know one another is if we work together.”

  Sebastian set his pen down and studied him for a moment. He was young and fresh-faced, probably not much older than twenty-four. Latte colored skin accented the smoky shade of his eyes, and his expression still glowed with the hopeful optimism of youth. That didn’t bode well. People like him didn’t last. He gave the kid three months tops before he ended up eating his own gun. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He shook his head. There was no point in making nice.

  “What was your name again?” he asked without glancing up.

  “Jackson, sir. Jackson Lane.”

  “Right. Let’s get something straight, Jackson. I don’t like you. I’m probably never going to like you, and I certainly don’t trust you. If you choose to look past that fact and still feel the desire to ingratiate yourself, go get my partner. Him I like.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He departed with a curt salute. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. If the prick was aiming for cute, he’d failed. Blowing out a forceful breath, he started to flip through the files Marx had dropped on his desk. It wasn’t long before a familiar set of acronyms leapt out at him. Sitting up straighter, he squinted, but the letters remained the same.

  Patrick James, FBI.

  His brow furrowed in confusion. The name sounded familiar, but what the hell would SKALS want with someone from the FBI? They went after homeland terrorists. They snuffed out demented cult leaders and psychopaths, mass murders, and nut jobs like Laychee who tried to blow up buildings with innocent people inside…not decorated agents from another bureau.

  The door swung open, and he glanced up in time to see Josh stride across the room and drop into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

  “I knew you’d miss me eventually. Does this mean your little bromance with Vince is done? We going back to being exclusive now? Because you know, that whole being the other man shit was starting to get old.”

  He smirked but offered no response. There was way too much on his mind, though he did appreciate his partner’s attempt at humor and keeping the peace.

  Seeing the tension lining his face, Josh sat up straighter. “What gives, Baas?”

  Saying nothing, Sebastian let his gaze shift to the newcomer stationed on the other side of the room. Josh took the hint. Whirling in his seat, he pinned the man with a steely glare. “Take a hike, kid,” he ordered, jutting a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Go stick your nose in a damn corner somewhere for all I care. Just get the hell out.”

  “When do I come back?”

  “We’ll tell you when grown-up time is over. Hit the road or I’m gonna hit you.” He watched the man leave then turned around and shot Sebastian a look of exasperation. “Where the hell do they even find these people? Is there some secret stash of Romper Room rejects they dig through and toss our way?”

  “I don’t know,” Sebastian stated quietly, “but he is the least of our problems right now. Have a look at this.”

  Josh grabbed the file and thumbed through it. His cocky grin faded beneath a wave of confusion and a questioning grimace contorted his rugged face. “What the hell is this? A Fed? Is Marx serious?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “James,” Josh repeated, snapping his fingers in thought. “I know that name.”

  “It rang a bell for me, too. I just can’t place how I know him. There’s no picture in the file. Just a note that all pertinent information will be updated.”

  “Huh,” Josh muttered, still skimming the pages. “Hell if I know. Jesus, there’s not much here to go by. Are we just supposed to pull this guy out of a rabbit hat or what?” Pursing his lips, he flung the file back on the desk and shrugged. “Oh well. Orders are orders, right? Do you want me to swing by tonight and see what else we can dig up on this guy?”

  Sebastian studied the man across from him for a long moment. In the seven years they’d worked together, they’d shed more blood, sweat, and tears than most people endured in an entire lifetime. Josh was more than a partner. He was his sister’s protector, a voice of reason, and perhaps the only person he would ever trust enough to consider a friend. He was also Taylor’s only hope for survival if anything ever happened to him, and even that outlook was grim. Downing a pull of whiskey, Sebastian gave a reluctant shake of his head.

  There were too many unknowns. Too many variables that didn’t make sense. As it stood, the assignment was a bust. He had nothing to go on, a fact that wasn’t apt to make Marx happy come morning. There was no sense in dragging the rest of the team down with him, and if the mission was just another ploy for power, things were going to get ugly. There were plenty of people he’d sacrifice if need be, but his partner wasn’t one of them. He owed the man too much, and as much as it pained him, he regarded Josh with the same fondness he’d had for his own brother. Perhaps even more so.

  “No,” he finally managed. “I appreciate the offer, but I can handle reading through these on my own. See what you can dig up on the new guy. I’ll bring you up to speed in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 7 ~

  The rich aroma of charred meat and spices wafted on the air, making Taylor’s mouth water. Billowing clouds of smoke mingled with the warm spring breeze and rolled across the grounds in hazy plumes. Resting a hip against the open sliding glass door, she watched Sebastian man the grill. He’d obviously been home for a while. His unruly curls were still damp and glistened with vibrant shades of auburn and gold in the late afternoon sun. No longer clad in his menacing black uniform, he looked casual and comfortable in a white button up tee and loose fitting khakis. The sight of his bare feet poking out the bottom of his pants made her smile.

  Sensing her perusal, he glance
d up. His pale green eyes squinted against the shifting tide of smoke rising off the steaks, but his face broke into a bright smile. “Hi, beautiful.”

  “Hey handsome. How long have you been home?”

  “Just long enough to shower and get dinner started. How are you feeling?”

  She shrugged. “Lazy as sin. As relaxing as it is to spend the entire day in bed, all it seems to make you want to do is sleep.”

  Sebastian set the spatula down and approached. “That was the point, darling.”

  Wrapping her in his arms, he drew her close. She couldn’t contain a small sigh of pleasure as the dark, sensual undercurrent of his cologne teased her nose. Closing her eyes, she let the smell and feel of his warm body envelop her senses.

  “I missed you,” she confessed.

  “Me or the freedom to do as you pleased?” he asked, lifting a brow.

  “You, Sebastian. Only you.” She rubbed her nose against his neck before kissing the hollow of his shoulder. He drew a deep breath and held it as if pulling her inside him. A shudder worked through his sleek muscles and then he slowly relaxed.

  “I missed you too,” he admitted. Pulling away, he straightened.

  “What’s with the place settings?” she asked, throwing a curious glance at the plates and silverware gracing the patio table.

  “I thought we would eat out here tonight. The fresh air and sunshine will do you some good. If you’re feeling better, you can bring me the serving platter off the counter and get our drinks ready while I pull the meat.”

  “Do you want a glass of wine?”

  “No, baby. Tea will be fine. I have some work to get through later. Grab the cucumber and seafood salad from the fridge too please.”

  He turned back to the grill, his lean frame once again stiffening, as his gaze grew distant. Taylor snagged her lower lip between her teeth, reluctant to leave him for the fear he would slip away. She could feel the darkness and anger gathering around him. It loomed, brooding in the distance, just waiting for its chance to strike. Sebastian set the tongs down and fixed her with a piercing stare. Not wanting to hear what might come next, she hurried for the kitchen.