Sebastian noticed the gun in his hand, pointed directly at Kane, and shook his head. After serving five years in the Palmchat Islands Air and Land Forces, he’d survived the grueling elite military training to become a renowned Palmchat Islands Special Command Operator. One of only a few hundred had been invited into the elusive brotherhood of the special operative team most of the world didn’t know existed. He’d walked away from that life, but once a PISCO, always a PISCO.
He lowered the gun back into his side pocket. Kane’s smile grew bigger, oozing with the boy-next-door charm and looks he used to deceive people. “Now I see how you rob people blind. They never hear you coming.”
“A useful skillset in my line of business, don’t you think?” Kane asked, then produced a dark metal card from his wallet and showed it to Sebastian. “Do you ever wonder what could’ve been? If we’d had a chance to work together.”
“Every fucking day. We all wanted this.” Sebastian tapped his card against Kane’s. “Hell, we needed it to make sense of all the shitty things we witnessed in our lives. The fucked up things we’d done. Our way of doing what we do best on our terms.”
“But we never got a chance to see it through. Damn shame,” Kane agreed. “Stingray Security brought us back together.”
“No, Ike did that.”
Kane nodded. “Our fearless absent leader is why I’m here.”
“To talk about Ike?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He had never known Kane to be the sentimental type, but they were all getting older and seeing life in a different light these days. It was one of the reasons he’d come to the community center to teach kids how to breakdance.
“I know he told us to fuck off after losing his parents, and we all agreed to do that, but I’m hearing some disturbing things coming out of Miami that have me worried.”
Sebastian raked a hand through his hair. “How bad is it?”
“Word is he’s drunk every night, fucking around with gold diggers and making risky investments. He’s broke and owes Grigor Brazhensky twenty-two million dollars. You know what the Brazhensky’s do to people who can’t pay their debts.”
“They make an example out of them.” Sebastian leaned against the counter. Of all the mafias to get entangled with, Ike da Costa had definitely chosen the wrong one. The Brazhensky’s were ruthless. South Florida was littered with dead bodies of people who got in too deep gambling with them and couldn’t pay up. Not that the cops had ever been able to pin any of the brutal murders on the family. They were skilled at keeping their hands clean.
“But Ike’s not the typical mark. If he feels the heat, he knows how to go dark. I’m not worried about him,” Sebastian said, although he wasn’t so sure. He’d known Ike for more than half his life. The man was like a big brother to him. His best friend. Yet he’d never seen Ike as broken as he was after the plane flying his parents on a missionary trip to Africa had disappeared off the radar. It had been two years, and the plane and Ike’s parents were still missing.
“I got a job in Miami to liberate a Picasso from its current owner,” Kane said with a smirk. “I’m thinking about checking in on him.”
“Don’t,” Sebastian warned, imagining the ass-kicking Ike would give Kane as soon as he realized his friend had shown up to rescue him from the Russian mafia.
“I figured it was a bad idea.” Kane looked disappointed. “But I knew you’d talk some sense into me.”
“If it makes you feel better, go to one of the clubs he’s normally at and pretend to run into him. But don’t push. He needs time to work through this even if we don’t like his methods.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Kane took a few steps back toward the doors. “Any message you want me to give to Ike … when I … see him?” Kane’s voice faltered.
Sebastian gazed past him to see what had caused the hesitation in his words. The answer was staring back at him with intense smoky brown eyes.
Serena King walked with purpose across the gym floor toward them. Her butterscotch skin, peppered with the faintest freckles, glowed under the golden rays of sun that poured in from the windows. Despite the subtle lines and shadows that had emerged around her eyes over the past two years, she was more than pretty.
“You can tell him there’s no way I’m sending twenty-two million dollars to save him from those Russian thugs. He made his bed, and he has to lie in it.” Serena brushed past Kane and stopped a couple of feet in front of Sebastian.
He detected a hint of worry in her gaze but knew it likely had nothing to do with Ike.
“I guess I’ll leave the two of you alone.” Kane gave him an “it sucks to be you” look as he turned on his heels. “I’ll let you know how things go in Miami,” Kane said as he pushed through the doors and left the gym.
“Can’t believe Ike asked you for help.” Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest.
“He didn’t. I got a call from your old friends at the PIIB suggesting that I might want to help my brother out of a bind. Of course, I declined,” Serena said, an edge of anger in her tone.
“So, is this run-in a coincidence, or were you looking for me?” Sebastian asked, in no mood to deal with the new CEO of Hullabaloo Enterprises. He wasn’t surprised Serena wouldn’t lift a finger to help her brother, yet anger still simmered through his veins.
“I need your help.” Her voice cracked as the words rushed from her mouth. Serena King rarely showed any signs of weakness or fear. He knew this was unfamiliar territory for her.
Sebastian stared back at her without saying a word.
As if sensing he wasn’t going to encourage her or agree to anything without hearing the details, Serena took a deep breath and then said, “My mother trusted you with her life. You were her personal bodyguard for five years—”
“Tell me something I don’t fucking know. It’s shitty of you to play that card, considering I wasn’t there to protect her when that plane went off the fucking radar,” Sebastian countered. Too many nights over the past two years he’d wondered if things would’ve turned out differently if Stingray Security had been operational when Bernadette and Peter took that flight. As high profile clients, the entire trip would’ve been subject to more rigor and a risk assessment as a standard protocol. Things Sebastian hadn’t considered doing. If he had, would he have identified any threat? A reason for the plane to go off course and disappear? Or was it only a fluke accident that couldn’t have been prevented?
