Sinister Kisses (SKALS #1) (21 page)

“Are we having a breakdown in communication,
Baas?” he asked, leaning forward. “I find it disconcerting enough that this problem was not handled already, but your reluctance is starting to raise some serious concerns.”

Tension gripped the room and thrummed through his system. He felt his partner’s desperation, the silent pleading rolling off the man across the table. It was too late for that, and they both knew it. Marx nodded and reclined against the back of his chair again, his dark gaze flitting over the other men.

“Give us a moment, please. Don’t go far.”

Sebastian’s body stiffened as they pushed away from the table and the door clicked shut behind them.
His muscles ached, threatening to shatter. It took every bit of effort he had to meet their director’s cold stare.

“She’s pregnant.
Despite what she’s done, that’s still my blood inside her.”

“This is not my problem,
Baas. It’s yours, and I suggest you fix it. This is not an option. It’s an order. Are we clear?”

He fought himself, struggling, desperately fighting to hold onto whatever small pieces of humanity and decency remained. Marx saw this
. His expression hardened until it took on the consistency of chiseled granite, and his ebony eyes narrowed into scrutinizing slits. Without warning, his ham sized fist struck, crashing into the side of Sebastian’s face with the force of a wrecking ball. The blow rocked both body and chair hard enough to send him capsizing to the floor. His skull bounced off the wall behind him, setting off an explosion of blinding light before his eyes. Dazed, he shook as he pulled himself into a semi upright position. He braced himself as Marx stood. Slow, sinister warmth caressed the side of his cheek. It ignited a brief spark of hatred. He clung to that rage as Marx crouched over him, his expression mocking.

“See, it’s not so hard to spill your own blood after all, is it?”

Sebastian growled at the taunt, his body coiling with anger as the big bear of a man wrenched him to his feet.

“Ah, so you are in there after all,” Marx drawled. "This pang of conscience troubles me,
Sebastian. There’s no place for it here. You have a team to lead and your professionalism is one we count on. Perhaps it's just a bit of leftover holiday spirit clouding your judgment, or maybe you need a refresher course. Either way, I will tweak that killer in you and bring you back to where you need to be. For your sake, I hope you comply. It would be a shame to use that pretty little girlfriend of yours as outside motivation."

INTERLUDE

Josh folded his arms and waited with no small measure of impatience. The last two weeks had been hell. The last time he saw
Baas, the man had been crazed. Sweat had drenched his clothes making them cling to his skin. His hair had been soaked to the point of losing all curl, and stuck out from the sides of his head in ragged spikes. Those images and the absolute desperation and insanity plaguing his friend’s eyes were something that would haunt him for a lifetime. There was nothing he could do. Nothing any of them could do but play along and just keep piling the torture on.

He sighed. As much as he wanted to blame
Baas and think him a stupid son-of-a-bitch, he couldn’t. His hesitation had been a surprisingly human reaction. He’d be hard pressed to say any of them would have reacted any different—and therein laid the problem. Sebastian had not only paid the price tenfold, but he’d served as an example of what could happen to the rest of them. As difficult as that had been, he’d then been charged with the task of telling Taylor and Monique neither one of them would be around until after the New Year.

He froze as movement drew his attention and
Sebastian stopped at the end of the hallway. Sunlight streamed through the windows highlighting his slender features. Their eyes met, locking in brief confrontation. Apprehension crept up his spine and danced across his nape, making the fine hairs there prickle and stand on end. Whoever this was, it wasn’t Baas. Not the Baas he knew—not the man he’d left behind. He’d lost some weight during his ordeal. It accented the slight dents in his cheeks making his face even harder, more chiseled, but it was something much deeper that unsettled him. The stare boring into him was glacial—frigid and soulless. No return smile greeted him. Sebastian’s chin lifted a notch and though his expression remained stoic, there was a chilling hint of pride and challenge riding his features. Something raw and menacing radiated off his friend, cloaking him with an air of nobility and power. He tamped down a shudder.

“It’s good to see you again,
Baas,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you home, huh?”

Sebastian’s head cocked slightly, the muscles beneath his jaw cording tight with anger. “I’m capable of driving myself, Josh.”

“Right. I just thought…”

“Thought what? That I was too weak, too broken to drive my own car?”

He gave a slow shake of his head and stilled the shiver that seemed bound and determined to creep down his spine. “No. Come on, Baas. You and I both know I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just get you out of here—go grab a bite to eat or something before you go see Taylor.”

He bit his tongue, resisting the urge to say ‘
because there is no way in hell I am letting you see her now
.’ He dragged a hand through his dark hair, making tufts of it stand on end. His stomach clenched and churned with dread. Sweet Jesus. What was he going to say? How was he going to explain—to justify the changes in the man that would be walking back through that door? He could well imagine the fear and uncertainty in Monique’s gorgeous green eyes, and the confusion that would almost certainly burn in Taylor’s. What advice did he give?

“
Sorry Tay. I know you love the man, but don’t talk to him, don’t move, and whatever you do, don’t look him in the eye.”

Josh swallowed against a wave of guilt.
This wasn’t the first time Sebastian had gone through the wringer as far as conditioning went, but it was by far the worst he’d ever seen him.

He lifted his gaze to see
Baas still mulling the offer over. His insides cringed, tightening his gut. He had to find a way to bring him back down before the man went home.

“Meet me at the cemetery.”

Josh blinked. He opened his mouth to argue that probably wasn’t the best of ideas right now, but before he could, Sebastian had turned on his heel and was gone.

PART TWO

I.

An icy wind swept through the cemetery, stinging his flesh and biting clear down to his soul. Sebastian’s shaky exhale left him in a frosty plume. Three fresh piles of dirt lie mounded together, side by side, covered with a light dusting of snow. Four, he reminded himself bitterly. Four lives had been lost, two of them completely innocent. The frozen ground was depressing. He tried not to think about his nephew encased beneath that cold, unforgiving surface, but that was where his thoughts turned. Guilt and rage festered inside him, threatening to rip away the last shreds of sanity that remained. This was his fault. All of it. His gaze burned into the decorative granite stone bearing Christian’s name, the date of his birth, and ultimately the day he died. Ten short years was all he had. There was still so much left for him to learn—to experience.

Sebastian lowered his head with a sad shake. That innocent smile and those wide blue eyes were etched into his memory where they lingered with the same effects as a brand. As much as he wanted to remember them, he ached to forget. Forcing a swallow, he whispered the only words he had left.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.”

His stare flickered to Natalie’s grave and hardened. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt. She was not without blame. She was the one who’d struck the match and
, deep down, she’d known her family would burn. He hated her, truly hated her, for putting him in that position—and even that was too kind of a word. If he could, he would rip her out of her grave and revive her, just so he could have the pleasure of killing her for himself.

His hesitation had been stupid. He could see that now, and that momentary bout of weakness had cost him. Lucian would have died regardless, but his nephew—if he’d acted and carried out the orders on his own, he could’ve saved him. That decision would haunt him for the rest of his life
. It wasn’t a mistake he would make again.

His throat closed, tightening around a raw lump of grief. Tears threatened to build and he
balled his fists, fighting against them. A low throb branched through the top of his hands in a painful reminder. His knuckles were still battered and bruised from punching the walls, his voice still hoarse. When they told him Christian hadn’t survived the accident, he’d screamed for hours. He’d poured every ounce of anguish he’d had into that room. Now, there was nothing left to give.

Tensing, he turned at the soft crunch of footsteps behind him. His eyes locked with Josh’s before he turned his attention back to the graves at his feet. His shoulders rose with the deep breath he drew.

“I am only going to ask you this one time,” he said in a raspy whisper. “Did you do this?”

His partner’s dark head bowed. The heavy weight of tension grew between them until Josh released a heavy sigh. “You know I can’t talk about that,
Baas.” He pressed his lips together for a long moment before lifting his gaze and offering a reluctant shake of his head. “But no. I swear to you, I had no part in any of this.”

Sebastian
tipped his face back toward the dismal grey sky. Biting the inside of his cheek, he nodded. A strained swallow came before he managed to find the strength to ask the next words. “Did he suffer?”

He watched Josh’s body sag with a visible combination of sorrow and empathy. Though it was trivial in comparison, the man shouldered his own share of grief. His son’s best friend, his playmate lay buried in the ground. As a father, Sebastian imagined Josh could even relate to the situation in ways he
himself would never comprehend. Still, he did not regret the question. It was something he had to know.

“His neck snapped when the car rolled. He was dead on impact.”

The muscles in his cheek twitched so hard it made his lip jerk. The answer and the images it evoked brought him little comfort, but it was the only assurance in all of this he was going to get. Perhaps it was all he deserved. He walked around to the head of his nephew’s grave and ran his hand over the top of the headstone. Closing his eyes for a second, he brought his fingers to his lips before pressing them against the cold granite. The last conversation he’d had with Christian ran through his mind in a heartbreaking loop.

“I love you, buddy. No matter what, you have to promise me you will never forget that, okay?”

“I don’t want to go...”

“I know. I don’t want you to go either.”

He still didn’t.

Taylor whirled from the stove at the sound of the garage door opening. Her heart leapt into her throat and she dropped the ladle she’d been using to stir the pot of homemade baked beans with bacon and onions. It was one of Sebastian’s mother’s recipes and, according to Monique, one of his favorites. Smoothing her hands over her hair, she then straightened her loose sweater dress and gave what she could see of the house one more cursory inspection. After finding it up to par, she hurried to the hall outside the laundry room door. Excitement and anticipation rippled through her and she danced in place waiting for that doorknob to turn. It had been so long since she’d last seen him, since she last felt his touch, or the powerful press of his body.

The door swung open and she froze in place as he stepped through.
A small cut and fading discoloration marked the high ridge of his cheek. He looked leaner, his face harder and almost gaunt, but it was his eyes that lent her pause. Gone was that sparkle she loved. She bit her lip with her efforts not to cry. Not for herself, but for him. He’d been through so much these past few weeks, and in her excitement to see him again, she’d all but forgotten. He regarded her for a long moment, his head tilting slightly to the side. Her chest surged at the slight twitch, the barest trace of a smile that lifted one side of his mouth. Without a word, his arms opened.

She ran to him, crashing against the front of him as she threw her arms around him. Sebastian gave a pained grunt, but he returned her embrace with equal zeal. Shuddering, she muffled a sob into the side of his neck.

“I missed you so much.”

He pulled back, cupping her face between his hands. His eyes probed hers, the gesture both familiar and different somehow. “I missed you, too, baby.”

Her hands fluttered over his chest and danced across his sides in silent search of injury. Capturing her wrists, Sebastian gave a slow shake of his head.

“I’m okay,” he
cautioned softly.

Her lips flattened in an uncertain press, but she nodded. One corner of his mouth lifted before he leaned over to claim hers. She melted against him, returning the kiss with
everything she had. He let go of her arms to thread his fingers through her hair. The familiar gesture flooded her insides with painful, eager warmth. Her body throbbed. His hold tightened and he tugged her head back, forcing her head into a more submissive slant. The hot spear of his tongue parted her lips, dueling aggressively with hers. His low growl rumbled through her and threatened to drive her to her knees.