Bound by Vengeance (18 page)

She gave a helpless shrug. Tilting his head back, Sebastian cast a frustrated look at the ceiling and sighed.

“Okay,” he said, forcing his attention back to her. Patting her hip, he urged Taylor off the washer. “Go sit. We’re going to get some things straight.”

She winced as she padded back through the kitchen and into the great room. By the time she reached the leather couch they usually used, her socks were soaked. She wiggled
her toes in the fuzzy confines and blew out a deep breath as Sebastian lowered himself onto the cushion next to her. The cool leather made her shiver after the icy press of the washer lid. One corner of Sebastian’s mouth lifted. Reaching behind them, he pulled the fluffy cashmere throw off the back of the couch and draped it around her shoulders.

“You don’t have to freeze you know. If you’re cold, you can turn the heat up, baby. I can afford it.”

“I know,” she whispered.

His dimples deepened and twisted in
a show of thought. The couch creaked as he turned and braced his back against the juncture of the cushions and the arm to look at her. Plowing a hand through his curls, he rubbed the back of his head.

“I don’t have a lot of patience left today, but I’m g
oing to explain this as best as I can. I didn’t punish you because the chores weren’t done. It was your lack of effort concerning me and everything else. It was pushing three. You weren’t working on getting things done. You didn’t even greet me; all because you were too busy talking to your friend. You come first with me, Taylor. Don’t ever put me last.”

His words made sense. Feeling the burn of shame creep into her cheeks, she lowered her head and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I know and, so far, you’ve proven it with your actions. So what had you in knots when I walked through the door?” he asked, tipping her face back up. “You never did explain that to me.”

“I was afraid you’d get mad if your socks got wet,” she admitted, wiggling her toes again in a playful show
. His slow chuckle was music to her ears, and her heart soared with his sheepish smile.

“You’re probably right there, darling,” he said. “I can’t say that I would have been pleased, but that is the point I’ve been trying to make. You thought about the situ
ation and what would make me happy. As long as you continue to do that, you and that sexy little butt of yours will be just fine.”

She couldn’t help her giggle of relief. Crawling into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his heated ski
n. Closing her eyes, she pulled the warm, familiar smell of his body into her lungs and relished the feel as it washed over her senses. “I love you so much, Sebastian.”

“Mm, that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear. I love you too, baby.”

“Those are my favorite words…ever.”

“Are they now?” he asked, twining his fingers through hers. “Second only to let’s go to bed, I would hope.”

Taylor grinned, loving his playful mood. “Of course, Sebastian. How could they not be?”

“Good.” He kissed her fingers and held her h
ands against his chest, lulling his head against the back of the couch to peer up at her with a lazy smile. “Because I need to head that way soon. It’s going to be a busy night.”

“Is that why you looked so cross when you came home?” she asked, trying to ma
sk her regret. As disappointing as it was to know they didn’t have the rest of the day to spend together, a small part of her understood and accepted the crazy hours that came with his job.

“What do you mean?”

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged, her mouth twisting with a small frown. “It’s hard to explain. Sometimes, you walk through the door a different man. You look so angry and cold, like you’re ready to kill somebody and it scares me.”

His forehead knitted as he pondered her statement. She watched as he
grappled to find the right words, or maybe an explanation he thought she would understand. The scent of Pine-Sol and a brooding silence hung between them.

“I’ve went over this with you before, Taylor. You have no idea what I have to deal with or the kind
of person I have to be the minute I put on that uniform and walk through those headquarter doors.” Sebastian sighed. “It’s not something I want you to see. I try to protect you from all of that, Taylor. I do. I’m sorry I fall short of that goal sometimes.” He forced a smile that fell short of reaching his eyes. “Besides, after being away from you all day, what else do you expect?”

She trailed her fingers over the strong planes of his cheekbones down to the dark golden stubble dotting his chin and the line o
f his jaw. “You’re silly, Sebs. Don’t blame your crankiness on me.”

“Oh but, darling, it’s true. Being away from you drives me crazy.”

“I feel sorry for your teammates then,” she said, fighting her amusement.

“You
should. I’m not an easy man to please, baby. At work or at home.”

“You’re not so bad,” she stated softly.

“You say that now, but I bet you would feel differently if I had my belt in my hand.”

“That’s different,” she whispered.

“How so?” he asked, lifting a brow. “It’s still me, Taylor. Perhaps not the side you care for, but it is a big part of who I am. I don’t regret the times I’ve punished you any more than I do the times I’ve had to discipline my men. Those corrections are meant to protect you—and them. Without standards, discipline, and order there’s chaos. If we don’t have those things and a basic measure of respect in our relationship, everything will fall apart. Without them at work, people will end up dead.” He frowned. “I only want what is best for everyone. I don’t know what part of that is so difficult to understand.”

Her mouth opened and closed as he nudged her off his lap and stood. Gone were the boyish smile and the playful gleam in his eyes. The pale sage depths were once again hard and unrelen
ting as he stared down at her. Forcing a swallow, Taylor bit her lip, the leather cushions dispelling a quiet hiss of air as she shifted uncomfortably.

“Finish what you need to do and think about what to order for dinner. I have some work to wrap up. Regar
dless of what time it is when we’re finished, I don’t expect to go to bed alone.”

His tone brooked no room for argument. Not that she would have dared. Nodding, she lowered her head and scurried for the relative safety of the kitchen. She blew out a quiet
breath of relief as Sebastian turned down the hall toward his study. Despite his military style boots and the hardwood floors, he moved swiftly and without sound. A shiver ran through Taylor as she watched him leave and she considered just how predatory Sebastian and the rest of the SKALS organization truly were. They moved with such stealth and speed no one would ever hear them coming. They’d never know death was breathing down their neck until it was too late. Shuddering, she snagged the plastic bucket off the floor and drained it in the sink. Her gaze traveled to the bay windows and the armed guards patrolling the grounds as she ran fresh water. Sometimes, she really hated his job.

Sebastian rolled his shoulders, the crack of his neck sounded loud in the silence of the Com-Tech room. Green eyes narrowing on the monitor, he watched the grieving family with dispassionate interest. A young woman draped her body over the casket, wailing her anguish. He clicked through the file in his mind. She was the deceased’s sister. He briefly wondered if Monique would mourn his passing, before sweeping it from his mind as inconsequential. Sitting up, he leaned closer to the monitor as Laychee approached the head of the Soeleze clan. He couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed the man’s heart rate go up. Seeing that alone made the four hours they’d spent trying to tag the prick well worth the wait.

“My heart goes out to you, Armando. I’ve been in your shoes. These assholes took everything from my brother and didn’t even have
the decency to leave us with a body to bury. I’m sorry for your loss, but I swear to you our blood will be avenged. Everything is in place,” Laychee whispered, his voice silky smooth over the wire.

“What is wrong with you compadre? Show some respect. Don’
t blaspheme around the dead and
never
talk business at a funeral. You Americans have no heart,” Armando said, smoothing his hands over his impeccable Italian silk suit. “But you are right, these men will pay. First for the pain they caused me, and then for my brother’s death.”

Sebastian clenched his fists at the veiled threat to loved ones, but fought the desire to roll his eyes at the insults and dramatics. Sparing a look at Josh assured him his partner felt much the same. He smirked.

“You Americans,” Josh repeated in an exaggerated accent. “You have no heart. Especially
youuu
, Sebastian.”

He snorted in amusement and knocked his partner’s jabbing finger away. Ignoring the baffled look Dominic cast their way, he perched on the edge of his seat as terse repor
ts from their team and the joint tactical forces unit arrived in tandem. Several of the family members loitering outside the funeral home to smoke turned and bolted for the doors to warn Armando, but it was too late. Garbed in full out gear, the squad poured out of the van with weapons drawn.

A smile threatened to crack Sebastian’s composure. He always enjoyed this part of a mission. Even if he didn’t get to participate in the exhilaration this time around, he still felt a sick thrill of excitement as the
swarm descended on Soeleze like angry bees. The warlord scrambled for the rear fire exits as a chorus of frightened screams and heartbroken cries erupted through the funeral home. Joint forces slammed people into walls or threw them to the floor, holding them at gunpoint as the unit made an effort to quell the chaos and clear a direct path to their target. Eyes gleaming, Sebastian leaned in, cupping his chin. So much for heart. Apparently, all traces of Armando’s fled the moment armed government forces burst through the doors.

“Welcome to America, amigo, where we bring the heart
and
the heat,” Josh muttered, watching the gunrunner yank open the fire exits.

Sunlight spilled into the building, shattering the ambient glow. Soeleze froze as the business end of
several semiautomatic rifles greeted his face and brought him up short. Another jammed into the small of his back, assuring him he had no escape. Defeat crept into his eyes, along with a fierce glimmer of rage, as a symphony of gruff barks erupted, ordering him to the ground. Armando screamed obscenities, writhing in fury as a heavy knee pinned him against the broken asphalt and another agent pinned his head. He bucked, heaping damnation on Americans and law enforcement officials alike when the metal cuffs locked around his wrists. Spittle flew from his lips in a frothy spray as he railed about the injustice and lack of human decency they were demonstrating.

His caramel skin flushed a dangerous shade of purple when one of the BATF stepped forward and patted
his cheek, calmly informing him that the constitution didn’t protect scumbags like him or their right to mourn in peace.

Sebastian sniggered beneath his breath. Spinning in his chair, he turned to Josh and accepted his partner’s high-five. The forceful cl
amp of Marx’s hands bit into each of their shoulders in a congratulatory squeeze.

“Good work, gentlemen. That’s one less son-of-a-bitch our nation has to worry about, and it’s been a long time coming.”

“That it has,” Sebastian agreed. His gaze darted to their director’s in silent question.

Feeling his stare, Marx glanced down at him, his generous lips curving in response. “Soon, Sebastian. Just be patient. Laychee will have his day.”

“Patience isn’t part of my repertoire.”

Marx offered a condescending smir
k. “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 i
n 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, Sebast
ian 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.