Sinister Kisses (SKALS #1) (28 page)

“I guess Marx was right. The guy isn’t as stupid as he seemed. We need you here, Baas. It’s better, safer, this way.”

Blowing out a deep breath, he clenched his free hand into a fist, slowly opening and closing it as he fought to get his rising temper under control. “I’ll be there.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. His stare bore into Taylor, his mind whirling. A sick feeling churned in the pit of his stomach, making it contract. Bile rose, burning the back of his throat, and he lowered his head with a sad shake. They had no problem killing off his family and taking out his innocent nephew in the process, but a threat like Todd still roamed free? Flopping back on the bed, he sighed and raked his hands through his hair with a sharp tug. He didn’t know what upset him more: the fact that the asshole was still out there somewhere waiting to make a play, or the fact that this was the first he had heard about it. Both burned his butt and made his blood boil.

Sebastian glanced up as a
slender shadow fell across the doorway. Uncertainty and hesitation darkened Taylor’s face as she leaned against the wooden frame. Forcing a smile, he patted the bed beside him.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

He reached for her, drawing her down to straddle him. Sorrow played on her features. His chest ached as he ran his thumb across the pouty swell of her lower lip.

“We’re leaving, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, baby. We are. I have no choice,” he said, spearing his fingers through her hair.

Disappointment
dimmed the hopeful light in her eyes. The sight of it killed him. Forcing his attention elsewhere, he ran his hands over her breasts and kneaded the full mounds before he snared the slender cradle of her hips. His body responded with an instinctual throb. Sebastian bit back a chuckle upon realizing the games he’d been playing worked both ways. His body was as every bit as primed and conditioned as hers. Even the slightest contact between them was enough to spur his desire. Tamping it down, he forced himself to meet her gaze.

“Do you want to grab something here or on the way home?”

Taylor sighed and looked away. “Whatever is easiest for you.”

Cupping her chin, he forced her attention back to him. “That isn’t what I asked.”

She bit her lip and the thick curtain of her lashes lowered to flutter against the high slopes of her cheeks. Sebastian tamped down a groan. He loved that look. She looked so submissive—so demure.

“Let’s order something. You
have to be starving by now and it would be nice to share one last meal in bed.”

His lips quirked with the beginning
s of a smile. He understood the sentiment all too well. It had been heaven while it lasted: breakfast in bed, lunch in bed, sometimes dinner, and lots of passion. He was surprised either of them could still move. Maybe that was why he was so tired. If so, he didn’t foresee a cure anytime soon. He’d gladly suffer through the exhaustion a happy man.

“Whatever you want, darling
.”

“I want you,” she whispered, lowering her body to splay against him.

“You can have that, too,” he promised. Fisting her sable locks, he drew her down and claimed her with a bruising kiss.

IV.

Taylor struggled with a wave of guilt and nostalgia as the truck stop rolled into view. It had been so long since she’d last stepped through those doors despite her assurances she would return often. She missed those dilapidated walls and the old familiar faces. Seeing it again filled her with a feeling that was almost like returning home. Still, she couldn’t help but worry how Irene and the rest of the staff would react. It had been months since she last spoken to any of them, and she felt horrible that she’d broken her promise to check in on Earl. Things had just been so busy lately, so hectic. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she steered into the parking lot. Maybe it wasn’t too late to rekindle her friendships and make amends.

She
navigated the gleaming maroon Chrysler around a series of crater-sized potholes and into the most secluded parking space she could find. She couldn’t help but worry someone would ding her doors or scratch the pristine paint. Things like that had happened all too often to her poor battered Dodge. Maybe they thought she wouldn’t notice, or that it wouldn’t matter when the truck was in such bad condition to begin with, but she had and it did. She’d worked hard to pay for that vehicle. The thought of someone recklessly bashing the beautiful 300 made her sick to her stomach. So did the thought of explaining it to Sebastian. It was hard to tell what his reaction would be, or where his mood would lie. He was just as apt to shrug it off, as he was to get that terrifying look in his eyes and start interrogating her as to why she hadn’t been more careful with her belongings. It was best to cover all of her bases now and play things safe rather than end up being sorry.

She raked her fingers through her hair, took a deep
breath, and eased out of the car. The frigid air hit her lungs in a shockwave, forcing her to cough. Temperatures had reached a record low earlier in the week and showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. The top layer of dirt-encrusted snow was a solid sheet of ice. It crackled beneath her boots but didn’t cave. She skirted her way carefully across the parking lot, grateful when she finally reached the diner doors. Pulling them open, she stomped the chunks of ice and salt from her feet.

Her cheeks stung as the blood beneath them warmed and Irene glanced up from behind the counter with no small measure of surprise.
The obscene arch of her eyebrows spiked even higher, and her bright red lips puckered into an exaggerated ‘o.’ Flinging her stained dishtowel down, Irene rounded the long stretch of dented stainless steel and snatched Taylor up into a hug.

“Oh my God! Look at you,” she squealed. Pulling back, she held Taylor at arm’s length and shook her head. “Hey
Ralph! Come look at what the cat dragged in!”

Embarrassed heat flooded Taylor’s face. Wincing, she tried to avoid breathing in anymore of the redhead’s cloying perfume.
The sickeningly sweet smell of roses battered her in waves. Pressing her forefinger against her lips, her brow knitted as she fought back a dizzying wave of nausea. She’d harbored a secret aversion to the scent ever since her best friend’s funeral. It was something she usually managed to keep under wraps, but today it struck her full force. The pungent smell of warm grease and coffee permeating the diner wasn’t making her stomach fare any better. Offering a weak smile, she stumbled back a step.

“Honey, you’re pale. Come sit down,” Irene urged, gently taking hold of her elbow.

She steered Taylor over to the row of padded stools and eased her down. Concern drew the waitress’s impish features as she dropped onto the seat beside her.

“Can I get you something, sweetie? Some toast maybe or some tea?”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Irene emitted an airy laugh and gestured to the knotted wood walls around them. “Take a look around you, Tay. What more excuse do you need?”

“True,” she admitted with a giggle.

She glanced up as Ralph popped his head around the corner and emerged from the kitchen
alcove. A wide grin split the cook’s weathered face. His icy blue eyes shone with delight as he wiped his hands on the front of his apron and approached them to lean against the other side of the counter. His silver ponytail dangled over the broad span of his shoulder.

“
Miss McAvay! Well if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes! Please tell me you came back here looking for your job.”

Her mouth opened and closed. Shaking her head, Taylor bit back a laugh. “I’m afraid not. I’m only here looking for my friends. I missed you guys,” she said with a shy smile. Her gaze
darted over the empty stretch of stools. “Speaking of, where’s Earl?”

She watched Irene and Ralph exchange a brief worried glance. All hints of playfulness and cheer fled the waitress’s face.

“I’m sorry, Tay,” she muttered, hanging her head. “Earl passed away last month. I thought you knew.”

Tears stung her eyes as she sank her teeth into the swell of her lower lip. Crushing guilt entombed her heart. Drawing a shuddering breath, Taylor shook her head. Her chin trembled. “No,” she whispered. “No, I didn’t know.”

A heavy sigh filtered through the silence. Irene nudged her with an elbow a few seconds later. Her bright red lips parted with a teasing smile.

“Maybe you should tell that rich boyfriend of yours to let you out of your ivory tower a little more often.” She winked to soften the blow of her words, but truth still lingered in her eyes. “How are things going with him, anyway?”

“Hell, why bother asking? Just look at her, Irene. Those are some nice digs, and I’m willing to bet that fancy car out there in the parking lot is hers, too. Looks like things are going pretty damn good if you ask me.”

An edge of bitterness rode his voice.
Her brow knitted and her cheeks grew hot as she regarded the cook in confusion. Shifting uncomfortably in light of their comments, Taylor forced her attention to the counter. She reached for the saltshaker and twirled it, giving her hands something to do. “Things are going well, and yes, Sebastian is very good to me. He’s very generous.”

Ralph snorted and her eyes flew to his. Irene shot him a look of pleading.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I’m just voicing what the rest of this town is thinking.”

Taylor swallowed, her chin lifting a notch as she regarded the man poised across from her. “What would that be?” she asked.

“If he’s such a nice guy, why don’t you have him put that generous spirit to good use and do something to help your family out?”

“Ralph, don’t….” Irene begged.

“Oh come on,” he said gesturing to Taylor. “The whole town knows she’s shacked up with some Fed, yet her family is looking at doing hard time. Does that seem right to you? Don’t you even sit there and tell me there’s nothing he could do. Everybody knows all those government agents are in cahoots together. The word on the street is he could have helped but didn’t. In fact, he told the bat boys to lock them up and throw away the key!”

“Where…” she drew a shaky breath and tried to still the tremble in her hands.
“Where did you hear that?”

“From your uncle’s own lips, sweetheart. The agent holding him in custody found the whole thing quite hilarious. But you wouldn’t know anything about that either now, would ya? When’s the last time you even bothered checking in on Roy and your cousin? They have an arraignment next week.” His icy gl
ower hardened. “Your uncle and I go way back, Taylor. He’s a good man. A good man who got caught making one stupid mistake.”

The air left her body in a ragged exhale. Shouldering her purse, she shook her head and stood. Irene’s hand fell across her arm in a gentle plea. Swallowing against the dizzying combination of anger and pain, she pinned the cook with a st
eely glare.

“That one stupid mistake almost cost me everything. I’m sorry if you and the rest of this town don’t see it that way, but I do. As for Sebastian, it’
s not his job to go around bailing people out of their messes. My uncle was well aware of the risks, and they were ones he decided to take. I wasn’t given that choice.” She started for the door then paused. Turning, she stopped to face him one more time. “And just for future reference, I would appreciate it if you and the rest of this town kept your damn speculations to yourself.”

The glass doors rattled with a forceful slam. Tears stung her eyes, blinding her as she hurried across the parking lot. Her boot caught the edge of a pothole and she stumbled, crying out in pain and frustration as her ankle twisted. Cursing, she pummeled the side of her purse with a balled fist. All she wanted to do was go home and get as far away from this place and the people in it as possible. She’d never longed for Sebastian’s strength or reassurance more. Taylor startled, turning with a cry as a hand fell over her shoulder and stopped her hasty retreat to her car. Her head thrashed in a silent plea as Irene stared back at her.

“Oh honey,” the woman soothed, pulling her into a fierce hug. “It’s okay. He didn’t mean those things.”

“Yes he did.”
The thick, teased hair pressed against her face muffled her miserable answer.

Irene pulled back and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You know Ralph. He’s just mad, sugar. Your uncle’s a good friend of his. That’s what landed you this job in the first place.” Her face fell with an empathetic frown. “Come on
. Let’s go grab a bite to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“At least let me take you home. You’re in no condition to drive right now.”

Taylor shook her head. “I can’t Sebastian would—he wouldn’t like it if I left my car here.”

A doubtful scowl threatened the redhead’s face. Planting her hands on her hips, she sighed. “All right, I’ll at least follow you home then and make sure you get there in one piece.” This time, she offered a slight smile. “You were never the greatest driver to begin with.”

Sebastian studied his phone for a long moment, taking in the coordinates. His forehead creased as he rubbed the back of his neck. The location was familiar, placing Taylor at the diner where she used to work. What he couldn’t figure out was why. What was she doing there? Why hadn’t she told him she was leaving? A slight twinge of annoyance rippled through him. Frowning, he ran a forefinger above his lip and swiped out of the application. Josh elbowed his side. Shooting his partner a sidelong scowl, he glanced up to find their director’s stare boring into him. Displeasure and curiosity burned in the dark pits of Marx’s eyes.