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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.
“How nice of you to finally listen in, Sebastian.” His head cocked to the side as he planted his massive hands on the folding table. “Is there something of importance you would like to share with the rest of the team?”
“No, sir.”
“You were tending to personal business then,” he stated with a nod. “Or perhaps my briefing is boring you?”
A humorless smile stretched his face. “It was a bit of both.”
His teammates sniggered behind him. Even Josh lifted a fist and coughed in an attempt to mask his amused snort. Marx didn’t share in the consensus. His ebony gaze narrowed and it wasn’t until Sebastian slid his phone into his pocket that the bull of a man returned his attention to the diagram of papers taped on the wall behind him.
“As I was saying before your leader decided to turn this meeting into his personal social hour, there have been no confirmed sightings of our target since Operation Smile was put into effect. There’s also been no recovery. No recovery means no body. I should not have to explain what this means, boys, but for those of you who are running slow this morning no body means either his putrid little corpse has gone undiscovered or our target is still out there. I will not get into why this poses an issue for you or your team.”
Pushing thoughts of Taylor aside, Sebastian dragged his hand across his mouth. It posed a very definite issue. A serious one he could have done without. Todd was trained as a member of their team. He’d endured some of the most ruthless training imaginable. The man was physically and mentally primed to kill without effort or conscience. He’d participated in operations. He knew how to target and strike. If he was out there, he posed a threat. Not just to society, but to the rest of the team as well.
A blackened scowl tightened Sebastian’s face. If Todd was still out there, he was reeling and hungry for vengeance—for blood. His blood. His team’s blood, and possibly Taylor’s as well. Given his training, he would target what meant the most to each of them, exploiting any weakness he could find. He would circle long and hard before closing in for the kill. Rigid tension coiled through his muscles, winding around them until they ached.
He exchanged a brief glance with Josh. The troubled look in his partner’s eyes told him he was thinking the same thing.
“While we have no visual confirmation on our target, there has been a bit of activity starting to crop up here,” Marx said, pointing to an aerial view of a yellow house and the outlying property. “This is his brother’s home. Steven Laychee is a known member of a special ops group. They disbanded him for questionable activity and refusal to follow orders. Since then he’s been operating under the radar, but his ties to people like him still remain strong.”
Sebastian blew out a deep breath. Things kept going from bad to worse. The coffee and glazed doughnuts he’d scarfed down earlier pitched in his gut. Keeping his attention on their director, he did his best to ignore Josh’s incredulous look. It was bad enough he could feel the disbelief and anxiety rolling off his partner. He had no desire to see it as well. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed blinding and swelteringly hot all of a sudden. Shifting, he tugged at his banded shirt collar. The cheap metal folding chair creaked beneath him.
“His relationship with our target was allegedly estranged. That certainly appeared to be the case during his brief stint with this team, but since his disappearance, Laychee and his associates have been engaging in suspicious activity. They’re building up their weapons. We’re talking a small arsenal of semiautomatics, explosives, and assault rifles. The BATF is aware of the situation. Whether this has to do with Target S or not, Laychee is a man we need to keep our eyes on.”
“What is our recommended course of action here, sir?” Dominic asked.
Eyes narrowing, Sebastian ground his teeth and awaited a response.
“That is a question for your team leader, not me, Special Agent Chase. I merely give you guys the ground work. He lays the foundation.”
“I understand that, sir. I was only asking for your recommendations.”
Marx shifted his attention to Sebastian. Seeing the frustration in their director’s gaze, he issued a curt nod, assuring him he would handle Dominic’s transgressions later. This seemed to please the man. His generous lips twitched at the corners before he lifted a hand to swipe at the damp sheen coating his chocolate skin. It made him feel better to know he wasn’t the only one who’d grown uncomfortably hot.
“Sir?” Dominic asked.
Sebastian balled his fists, pressing them deep into the taut muscles of his thighs. One more comment and their director wouldn’t have to wonder if he was going to pull the man aside. He was growing dangerously close to ripping him out of his chair in front of the entire room and reminding him of his place. He doubted Marx would mind. In fact, something told him the big man would enjoy the show. Slinging his arm over the back of his chair, he leveled Dominic with a murderous glare. The message got through loud and clear. His teammate paled and lowered his eyes. Sebastian snorted. A look was nothing compared to the pain and corrective measures waiting around the bend.
He turned back around at the sound of their director’s voice.
“Those of you on surveillance need to gather all the possible intell you can on this man, his family, and any one he comes into contact with. Be careful when running those operations. This man has strolled on our side of the fence and he knows what to look for. Your team leader will direct you from there. In the meantime, I suggest you all keep your eyes open and your loved ones safe.”
Taylor couldn’t hold back her smile as she led Irene through the house, giving her a guided tour. The envious expression on her friend’s face said it all and filled her with a deep sense of pride. Not for herself, but for Sebastian and all of his accomplishments. He worked hard and provided well, both of which showed. The coppe
rtop released a whistle as she took in the small wine room and wandered into the kitchen. Running a heavily lacquered nail over the granite counters, she shook her head and lifted her dancing gaze to Taylor’s.
“You have it made. I bet the holidays were really something else here.”
Her smile faltered as memories resurfaced. Brushing them aside, she focused on the wonderful Christmas her and Sebastian had shared, rather than focus on the ugly events of the night before.
“They were,” she said. It was all she could manage.
“Were the meals catered?”
Taylor laughed and leaned a hip against the island, her cheeks coloring slightly. “Not unless you count me and his sister. Trust me, between the food and the presents alone, Seb spent more than enough.”
“Seb is it?” the waitress asked with a lecherous dance of her eyebrows. “And what did this mysterious Seb get you?”
Taylor eased the teardrop pendant from beneath the neckline of her shirt. Her fingers stroked the warm smooth metal with reverent affection. Irene sucked in a sharp gasp and surged forward, her hands already reaching up to garner a closer look.
