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Marx offered a condescending smirk. “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 in 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, Sebastian 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.
“I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest to take Laychee down now, while he’s in plain sight and unattended. I find your decision to hold off baffling to say the least,” he stated in a measured tone.
“I am sure you do, Sebastian. Perhaps you missed the part of the conversation where he said everything was in place, but I did not. Call me curious, but I would like to see what our little friend is up to.”
“Call me cautious, but I would prefer we didn’t. This man has violated everything I hold dear. He had pictures of my family and damn near put me in a casket. I have no desire to see what he has planned next.”
Marx downed his scotch and stood, wiping the corners of his mouth with his massive fingers. His deep ebony eyes swung in Sebastian’s direction and pinned him. “This isn’t about where you and your partner like to dip your wicks, Agent Baas. Nor is it some personal vendetta.”
“Tell that to Laychee,” Sebastian said, stepping forward. “This isn’t about making money for him, or taking out some landmark. It’s about his brother. He’s not some fringe lunatic looking to make a name for himself and amp up his cause. He wants revenge.”
“We don’t know that for sure, now do we, Sebastian?”
“Open your fucking eyes, Marx!” He ignored the narrowing glint of the director’s stare. “None of this started until Todd became an issue. Steven Laychee wasn’t even on our map.”
“An incident you incited.”
He winced at the flat accusation. “He was out of line. He disrespected me in my home, in front of my team. You would have done the same.”
“No, Sebastian,” Marx stated dryly. “I would have killed him, putting an end to any future problems right then and there. There was a time when you would have done the same. I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours lately, but I don’t like it. Not one bit. I believe the saying that applies best here is you made your bed. Now it’s time to lie in it.”
His shoulders shook with a humorless laugh. Casting his arms out, he spread his palms and cocked his head. “So that’s it? You’re just going to let him kill me now?”
“I never said that.”
Sebastian frowned. His lips pursed into a firm white line as his eyes narrowed in understanding. Challenge sparked in the pits of Marx’s unwavering stare. The smug look riding the director’s craggy face was almost his undoing. Balling his fists, Sebastian backed toward the door, forced a cold smile, and pointed. “If he goes after my family, I’m coming after you.”
“Don’t make threats, Sebastian. I don’t take kindly to them.”
“Take it however you want,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “Just bear in mind who trained me and what they taught me to be.”
Chapter 9 ~
Shivering, Taylor burrowed deeper into the folds of her coat and adjusted her gloves. The late February air was cool and crisp, carrying with it a touch of winter and the vibrant promise of spring. Several wisps of hair had torn free from her loose ponytail and whipped against her face each time the wind swept down off the mountainous slopes. Henderson, the head of security, stood posted nearby with his rifle cradled in his arms as he watched her clean out the traces of dead leaves and stems from the beds lining the back of the house. Every once in a while, he would meet her curious glances with a smile or a nod. By the end of the afternoon, she’d decided he wasn’t as terrifying as she’d initially made him out to be. He looked to be slightly older than Sebastian’s thirty-two years, probably in his early to mid-forties. Errant strands of silver peppered his dark hair, and though his skin was weathered and creased from constant exposure to the elements lending him a rugged look, there was something quiet and subtly kind about the man.
“Perhaps you should go inside for a while and warm up, Miss McAvay.”
She startled slightly and turned to peer over her shoulder at the guard. It was the first time he’d spoken in the three hours she’d spent outside. Brushing a tickling strand of hair away from her nose with the back of her hand, she offered a sheepish grin. “I will. I just wanted to finish up this section first.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” A small smirk rode the corners of his lips as he gave an agreeing nod and turned his attention away.
Biting her lip, Taylor grappled with conscience and pity. It never occurred to her just how many hours these men spent outside in the wind, snow, and cold over the past few months keeping them and their home safe. Despite the heated guard shack, she had no idea how they managed. She frowned noting the slight shiver running through the man. Standing, she brushed the dirt off the knees of her jeans and flashed a tentative grin as Henderson glanced her way.
“I could go for a cup of hot chocolate,” she said. “Can I get you or your men anything while I’m in there?”
A baffled look lent his stern features a comedic air before he regained his composure. “In all honesty, I would kill for a cup of coffee right about now, Ma’am, but I don’t want to put you through any trouble.”
“Well, don’t go on a shooting spree just yet, Rambo,” she teased. “It’s no trouble. One hot coffee coming right up. It’s the least we can do. And please stop calling me Ma’am. I’m only twenty and you’re making me feel old.”
He laughed. “Noted. Thank you for the offer, Miss McAvay. That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s not kind, Henderson,” she said. “Just human.”
Her face and hands tingled when the basking warmth of the house engulfed her, bringing a fresh surge of blood to her cold-numbed skin. Tugging off her gloves, she blew between her fingers to restore the feeling then grabbed two mugs. Within minutes, both cups were steaming and full. She gave Henderson a thankful smile when he pulled the sliding glass door open for her.
“I wasn’t sure how you take it,” she apologized.
“Black is wonderful, Ma—Miss McAvay. Thanks.”
Scrunching her nose with a playful grin, she waved him off and made her way across the expansive wooden deck and back down into the yard. Henderson took the same post he’d maintained earlier a few feet away from her, planting himself between her and the rear stretch of the premises. Shaking her head, Taylor set her mug down beside her and resumed weeding out the dead debris. The hot chocolate helped warm her until it, too, turned cold from the relentless February air. She was almost finished when the sliding glass door slammed open. Rearing up on her knees, she peered up at a wide-eyed and disheveled Sebastian. His shoulders dropped with visible relief upon seeing her.
; “Hi, handsome,” she said, standing to look up at him over the rail. She froze when his eyes narrowed.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice a strained rasp.
Confused, she furrowed her brow. “Picking up the yard a little bit before spring. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, gripping the railing as he stared down at her. “What’s wrong is I was worried sick, Taylor. I tried calling you three times and got no answer. Then, I came home and searched the house high and low for you. It’s not your job to clean up the yard. That’s what I hire gardeners for. Get inside. Now.”
Swallowing, she hung her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t ask what you knew. I told you to get in the house, Taylor. I suggest you do so now. Don’t make me say it again.”
“Yes, Sebastian.”
Henderson shifted uncomfortably. She colored as his dark brown eyes darted her way, his mouth turning down at the corners in a visible display of concern. After grabbing her mug off the ground, she hurried to jog up the steps. Sebastian glared down at her, shaking his head as he pulled the door open. She barely made it into the kitchen before his icy voice halted her in her tracks.
