Scarred (Unlikely Heroes Book 5) (26 page)

Cole lifted his head, his gaze darting to Sebastian.

Sebastian’s breath caught.

He looks exactly like me at that age.

Cole was a good-looking kid, with pretty, perfectly symmetrical features.

Light blue eyes—the exact same color as Sebastian’s—locked on Sebastian’s. Curiosity filled the boy’s features. A hesitant smile curved his mouth.

“Hey.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Hey.”

Cole paused on the other side of the table, looking down at him.

Craig discretely left them alone, closing the door behind him.

“Does that hurt?” Cole motioned to the purplish-black lump on Sebastian’s face that used to be his nose but was now a garbled mess of cartilage and swollen tissue. Though his nose had been broken from the Cockroach’s meaty fists, the doctor had indicated it would heal on its own and Sebastian wouldn’t need surgery. The worst of it was he had to breathe out of his mouth because his nasal passages were blocked with swollen tissue. His face would never be the same again. He wouldn’t know the extent of the damage to his appearance until the swelling went down and his nose healed. There had once been a time when he might have been concerned about a crooked nose. But not anymore. It seemed insignificant compared to everything else he was going through.

“Naw.” In truth, it hurt a lot, but he refused to take painkillers for it. He’d rather deal with the pain. It was a reminder that he was alive.

Cole slid into the chair across the table. “So you’re my dad, huh.”

Sebastian swallowed hard. “Yeah, it looks that way.”

Cole talked like a typical southern Alabamian with the same lilts and drawls in his speech as Sebastian, the same dialects from the region. An unexpected sense of loss swept through Sebastian. He’d missed so much of his son’s upbringing. Cole’s first laugh. His first tooth. His first steps. His first day of school…

It wasn’t fair. He should have been there for his son. He should have found a way to destroy his father instead of fleeing that night. If he’d stayed, he might have been given the opportunity to raise his son.

You’re here now. Here’s your chance to be his dad.   

Sebastian stared across the table at his son. Shit, now what did he say? His foot tapped harder on the floor. He pressed his hand down on his thigh, forcing his leg into immobility.

Cole drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “Are you really that famous actor that’s all over the news? Did you really get your ass kicked in a fight?”

Sebastian hesitated.

This is your son. Tell him the truth.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Cole nodded. “Cool.”

Sebastian forced a sternness into his voice. “But fighting’s not cool. I wouldn’t recommend it. I only did it to protect you.”

Color crept into Cole’s face. He lowered his gaze. “That’s what Agent Rawlins said. He said I shouldn’t judge you.”

Really? Craig had said that?

Cole’s gaze darted back to Sebastian’s. “How come I didn’t know about you before now? Why didn’t you come see me?”

Two very good questions.

It was Sebastian’s turn to blush. “I didn’t know about you,” he admitted softly.
And my father threatened to harm you if I tried to contact you.
His throat seized up. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He stared at his son, unable to believe this handsome kid was his.

Memories swamped him. Memories of him at Cole’s age.

Bad
memories.

Beatings.

Intimidation.

Threats.

Violence.

No. Don’t think about that. Not now.

Sebastian forced the memories aside.

What kind of upbringing had Cole had so far? Had Travis beat, intimated or threatened him during the month he’d had him?

Sebastian’s stomach churned. He wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t want to traumatize the kid. Maybe Travis hadn’t had enough time to inflict much damage yet. Cole seemed…happier, more carefree than Sebastian had at that age. Like a normal kid.

Sebastian recalled being stoic and solemn as a kid. A loner. He’d had few friends. Because if he associated with anyone, his father would use them against him in some way.

I haven’t changed much.

He was still stoic, solemn, guarded. He allowed very few people to get close to him. And only one had broken through his walls, melted the ice around his heart.

Emily.

They would find her. Soon. Once Cole was tucked away in a safe house, Sebastian would be able to focus all his efforts on finding and freeing Emily.

“It’s okay. I understand.” Cole eyed him across the table. “I…don’t blame you. Honest. When Agent Rawlins told me about you, I looked you up online to see who you were. I even watched some of your movies. You’re an awesome actor. You play the bad guy really well.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
I had a good teacher. Your asshole grandfather.

Sebastian’s foot tapped the floor again. He grabbed his knee, forcing his leg to stop moving.

“So does this mean I get to come live with you now?”

It was a question Sebastian had expected, but one that scared the hell out of him. He wasn’t sure how to answer.

You can’t tell him no. He has no one else. He needs you. You’re his father.

Sebastian hesitated, then reached across the table and squeezed Cole’s hand. “Sure.” He immediately let go, heat creeping into his face. He wasn’t one to normally initiate physical contact with another human being and was shocked he’d just reached out to his son. Emily had gotten to him more than he’d realized. She truly was helping him to heal. A month ago, even a few days ago, he wouldn’t have been able to face his son like this. 

He stared down at the tabletop, embarrassed. “I mean…that is…if you want.”

He felt Cole’s intense scrutiny and glanced up.

Cole’s gaze, so similar to Sebastian’s, studied him, searching…

And as Sebastian stared into his son’s eyes, something softened inside his chest.

Cole nodded. “I’d like that. You seem cool.”

Sebastian puffed out the breath he’d been holding. This was going better than he’d expected. Maybe he really could do this.

He cleared his throat. “So…” He motioned to Cole’s shirt. “You like video games?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Well I’ll be dipped in dog shit! They let him off the hook. Can you believe that?”

Travis turned from the television and pierced Emily with his stare. He took a swig of whiskey, then set the bottle of Jim Beam back on the nightstand.

The reporter on the six o’clock news had just announced Sebastian had been sentenced to 90 days in jail, but his sentence would be suspended as long as he performed a certain amount of community service hours and stayed out of trouble for a year.

Had Craig worked a deal with the D.A. to get Sebastian off easily? He must have.

Thank you, Craig.

“Why does that little prick always get off so easily? Last time he was sentenced to fifteen years, but he only had to serve three. Now this? It’s only because he’s a celebrity. I’ll bet the little shit could get away with murder.”

Like you?

Emily barely managed to keep from blurting out her thoughts. It wouldn’t be wise to antagonize him.

Travis snatched up the whiskey bottle and took another gulp. He was well on his way to inebriation. He’d arrived at Emily’s room about ten minutes ago with the bottle of whiskey, saying they were going to get cozy together. He’d settled back on the bed and flicked on the television. Emily had managed to keep her distance from him so far, staying at the opposite end of the room as he made himself comfortable.  

“Looks like Wolfe will be home in time for dinner tonight,” the reporter announced, bringing Emily’s attention back to the television. “Oh, here he comes!”  

Emily stared as the woman rushed to join the crowd of reporters gathered out front of the courthouse. The camera zoomed in on Sebastian as he left the building, his attorney at his side. His nose was a huge purple lump that looked like it hurt. Broken? He also sported several nasty cuts and bruises on his face. But other than that, he appeared okay. Reporters crowded around Sebastian, thrusting microphones in his face and shouting questions, while cameramen jostled to get the best shot.

Sebastian moved past the throng with his attorney, saying politely, but firmly, “Thank you, but I have no comment at this time.” He climbed into the back of a black limousine and sped away. His attorney remained and answered a few questions before departing as well. The camera panned out to the courthouse, then back to the reporter.

“I must say,” the woman announced with a pretty blush. “He’s even better looking in person than on film, even with his broken nose and his hair shaved close like that.” She let out a giggle.

Travis shut the television off, his eyes hard.

Was he jealous of the female population’s reaction to Sebastian? Emily wasn’t sure, but he definitely had some kind of beef against Sebastian or he wouldn’t be blackmailing him like he was. She sensed Travis’s jealousy went much deeper than just Sebastian’s fame or his success. For some reason, Travis hated his son. And Emily intended to find out why.

Travis’s phone rang. He yanked it from his pocket and scooted over to the edge of the bed. Emily remained standing on the opposite side of the room, watching him warily. So far he’d made no move to touch her, though it wouldn’t be long before her luck ran out.

“I’ll be back,” he told Emily as he strode toward the door.

“This better be good,” he told whoever was on the other end of the line. “I said no one was to bother me.”

He paused as he reached the door.

“What? How the fuck did that happen?”

Emily tensed. Uh oh. Something was wrong.

Travis swung back to face her, an evil gleam in his eye. “I think I know who told them.” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and advanced on her.

Emily’s heart pounded. She warily backed away, though she could only run so far. The room was small, suffocating when she was alone with Travis in here.

“It seems someone told the FBI where I was hiding my grandson.” His gaze narrowed suspiciously on her.

Cole was free? Thank God. Without Cole as hostage, Travis couldn’t use the boy against Sebastian.

Travis came around the bed toward her. “Now they’ve got the boy and I don’t have any hold over Sebastian.” He studied her with those cold eyes. “Well, except for you. If I’m not mistaken, my boy’s got a thing for you. If I rough you up a bit, text him some pictures, he’ll come running to your rescue, you mark my word. He can’t resist saving things.”

Emily’s heart raced. She took a step back. “Why do you want to control him so much? Why not just let him be?”

“Because he ruined my life, the little prick. I’m getting even. I want him to suffer like I suffered. I want him to hurt the way I hurt. I won’t be happy until he finally breaks.”

“He’ll never break,” Emily retorted, lifting her chin. “He’s smarter than you, tougher than you, braver than you. You’re just a pathetic drunk. And delusional. Sebastian is ten times the man you are.”

Travis scowled. He marched across the room, wrapped a hand around her throat, and lifted her up off the floor, slamming her back against the wall.

Emily gasped, choked, tried to pry his hand loose. She struggled to draw air into her lungs, but it was no use. His hand was too tight around her throat.

Her lungs screamed for air.

Her vision blurred.

He let go of her abruptly and she slid down the wall until she hit the floor, gasping.

Travis went around to the other side of the bed and snatched up the bottle of Jim Beam. He took a large swallow, then came back around the bed, carrying the whiskey. He snagged her arm and hauled her to her feet.

Too disoriented to fight him, Emily was like putty in his hands. He shoved her back onto the bed, then followed her. Grabbing her arm, he kept her by his side as he leaned back against the headboard and took another sip of the whiskey.

Emily drew in several more deep breaths, her vision returning as the oxygen was restored to her brain. She contemplated the situation. Eyed the whiskey bottle. It was more than half empty. How could anyone consume so much alcohol and still be coherent? The man must have an extremely high tolerance. Maybe if she got him drunk enough, she could escape.

“It’s time me and you got acquainted on a more intimate level.” He turned to leer at her.

Emily turned away in revulsion. What would be the best way to keep Travis from touching her? There had to be something she could do to distract him or make him lose interest. But what?

Could she use his hatred for Sebastian against him? Would it work? It might get her a few bruises, or worse, but it would be worth it if it kept Travis from raping her. It would require some acting on her part. Could she pull it off?

“You know, now that I’ve had the best, nothing else will satisfy me.” She sent him her best haughty look. “I guarantee Sebastian’s by far a better lover than you could ever be. He’s already made love to me multiple times. You’d only be getting sloppy seconds. No one likes sloppy seconds. As his father, I can imagine how that would hurt your ego, him getting me first. Wouldn’t you rather have a woman you found first?”

Travis turned to eye her, his face darkening with rage. “Don’t flatter yourself, bitch. I prefer my women willing. If you don’t want to get it on, I’ll just find me a hooker.”

Emily snorted.
Thank God
. “Then what are you waiting for? Go get one.”

He stared at her, a calculating gleam in his eye. “I said I
prefer
my women willing. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it rough every now and then. And I’m not in the mood to go find a hooker right now. If I have to hold you down, so be it. I’m feeling in kind of a rough mood right now.”

Her heart pounded. Crap. Why did she have to egg him on?

“You know you’ll never compare to him,” she blurted. “He’s smarter, richer, better-looking…So let’s not waste our time here. You can go get a hooker. A
willing
hooker who likes it rough. You don’t really want sex from me, because you know what I’m saying is true. You only want to hurt me to try to hurt Sebastian. But you and I both know I don’t mean anything to Sebastian. You know how many women he’s had. He’s a player. He uses women and dumps them. Why would I be any different than the others?”

Travis eyed her for a long moment, contemplating. “What’re you saying?”

“He used me,” she said, trying to sound angry. “And that hurts.” She turned away, wiping at a pretend tear. “I loved him and he used me.” She sniffled, hoping it sounded legit. She turned back to him. “Believe it or not, I want him to suffer as much as you do. I want him to pay. I think you and I can work out a different type of arrangement.”

Travis continued to study her with red-rimmed eyes. The whiskey was finally taking effect. How long until he passed out?

“Okay, you’ve got my attention. Start talking. What type of arrangement are you suggesting?”

Emily reached for the whiskey bottle. “Can I have some?” If she got a hold of it, maybe she could hit him over the head with it.

Travis yanked it away, as if he’d read her mind. He took another gulp, wiped his mouth. He cradled the whiskey in his lap, as if it were precious and valuable.

“How come earlier you said you wouldn’t help me, now all of a sudden you want to see him suffer?”

You can do this, Em. Keep playing him.

“Because I thought I loved him. Now I’ve had time to think about what he did. He hurt me. He’s selfish and cruel. He uses people. I want him to suffer. I want to get even. Same as you. He must have hurt you too.”

Something flickered across Travis’s face before he looked away.

She was getting to him. As cold and unfeeling as the man was, he was still human somewhere deep inside. Why did he hate Sebastian so much? With a little more whiskey in his gut, he might reveal his true feelings.

“You know what he did to me,” she went on softly, trying to sound hurt. “What did he do to you?”

Travis stared at something invisible on the far wall. He lifted the bottle and took another gulp. “His mother,” he whispered. “He stole her from me.”

What?

What did that mean?

“That selfish little jerk,” Emily retorted. “Sounds just like him. How did he steal her away?”

Travis continued to stare at the wall. He took another drink. “Once he was born, she didn’t care about me no more. It was always about Sebastian. Poor, sweet Sebastian. He could never do any wrong in her eyes. She didn’t wanna have anything to do with me after he was born. She kicked me to the curb. I was nothing to her after that. She stopped sleeping in our bed. She stopped cooking nice meals for me. She only cooked to feed the brat. I only got the leftovers.”

Travis really did hate his son, but it wasn’t for the reason Emily had suspected. Had the man at one time truly loved his wife?

“Why did you only get the leftovers?” Emily asked softly. “Where were you when she was fixing dinner?”

He jerked his gaze to her, his eyes hardening. “I was hanging out with the boys like I always do. It never bothered her before. She usually waited until I got home and ate with me. But once Sebastian was born, she wanted everything to be perfect. No drinking. No partying. No gambling. We needed to set a good example for our son, she said. It was bullshit!” He lifted the bottle and sucked down several swallows. “I was her
man
. She was supposed to
love
me. But she didn’t care about me anymore. All she cared about was
him
.”

He glowered at the wall again.

Emily was learning a lot about Sebastian’s father right now, things she was certain Sebastian knew nothing about.

“Sebastian said she left when he was nine. If she loved him so much, why did she leave him?”

Travis choked out a laugh. “Ha! She thought she was going to leave me, but I put a stop to that. She was mad at me for disciplining him. Every time I punished the brat, she freaked out. I was just trying to teach him how to be a man, but she said I was too harsh. She told me one night she’d had enough of my drinking and gambling, enough of my abuse.
Abuse
?” His voice rose several notches. “Seriously? All boys need discipline. If she had her way, she’d turn the kid into a sissy. She said she wanted out of the marriage. Can you believe that? After all I’d done for her? Ungrateful bitch. She said she was leaving in the morning and taking Sebastian with her.” He lifted the whiskey bottle and guzzled the remainder in three or four swallows. He dropped the empty bottle on the bed between them.

“What happened?” Had he done something to Sebastian’s mother? Emily’s stomach tightened into a knot. She held her breath as she waited, afraid he wouldn’t answer.

Travis turned that red-rimmed gaze fully on her, impaling her with the hatred in his eyes. His hand tightened around her arm. He let out a bitter laugh. “I tried to stop her. She was packing a bag, fixing to leave. We got into an argument.” He turned away, hissed out a breath. “She kept screaming at me. Screaming. Screaming. I couldn’t handle it no more, so I wrapped my hands around her throat and strangled the bitch.” He lifted the whiskey bottle and sucked on the top, trying to get one more drop.

Emily stared, unable to breathe. Unable to move.

He dropped the bottle, giving up. “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. I just…lost it for a moment. She made me so mad I just snapped.”