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Maybe had never felt like such a long shot before…
Sebastian stiffened in annoyance as his phone shattered the tense silence in the car. The unfamiliar tone set him even further on edge. Pulling it from his pocket, he swiped a finger across the screen with a blackened scowl. His blood turned to ice and crawled through his veins as he stared at the application and the bold red letters flashing back at him. Security breach! Those two words dimmed and brightened repeatedly, their meaning sucking the air straight out of his lungs. His eyes flickered over the floor plan, taking in the ominous glow highlighting both front and rear exits. Dominic shifted beside him, leaning closer to peer over at the phone.
“What is it?” he asked, concern riding the smooth notes of his voice.
Numbing horror held him in its thrall. Shaking his head to silence the man, Sebastian swiped out of the home security app. Staring at it wasn’t going to do him any good. He needed to call the authorities, Josh, someone. His chest tightened. Wounded rage clawed its way through his system. Tonight wasn’t about setting him up. Not in the way he’d thought. It was about getting him out of the house—getting to Taylor, hitting him in the one place it would hurt the most. His heart. His home.
He’d just swiped into his call log when a sharp sting branched through his neck. Jerking to the side, Sebastian dropped the phone. Understanding brought a new wave of fury.
Murderous venom sparked in his eyes as they clashed with darker ones full of gloating. One hand lifted, groping for the syringe Dominic jerked free. The other reached for his gun, but the world was already starting to stutter and spin. His limbs felt heavy and forged from lead. The muscle paralyzer was working too fast and the sedatives were already starting to kick in. Fighting against them with all he had, Sebastian wrenched his pistol free, upholstery be damned.
It never made it across his lap. It, too, fell to clatter against the floorboard by his feet. His head lolled against the headrest and he regarded his teammate with a blistering stare.
The son-of-a-bitch better pray that was a lethal dose.
“Night, night, Sebastian,” Dominic whispered, administering a taunting stroke to his curls.
Taylor trembled as heavy footsteps fell outside the wine room. She’d almost made it back to the kitchen when a sudden eruption of voices sent her scurrying for quick cover. Thankfully, Sebastian wasn’t much of a drinker and, after ducking behind the small island bar, she’d crawled into one of the empty cabinets beneath and eased it shut. Shaking, she tensed as the footfalls grew louder and she could hear one of the intruders breathing raggedly above her. Clamping her eyes shut, she forced herself to hold the air in her aching lungs and prayed.
“Where the hell is the bitch?”
Taylor’s chest jerked, the ache growing unbearable. The blood roared in her ears, joining the frantic hammer of her heart. Doors slammed in the distance, and she winced at the sound of breaking glass as the men ransacked the house in a frenzied search.
“She was here when the asshole left and she sure as hell didn’t make it out before we got in. I don’t care if you have to burn this place to the ground. Fuckin’ find her!” a gravelly voice barked.
The rage and authority in his tone made her stomach clench with raw dread. Whoever it was, he was the one in charge and he was pissed. Her mind scrambled, searching for reason in the chaos. What sort of crazed madmen broke into someone’s house with explosives? The answer came back to her with staggering clarity and only served to heighten her terror. Laychee.
Where was the security team? Had any of them survived the assault? If they had, were they coming to help or did they run for cover?
She jumped, clamping both hands over her mouth and sinking her teeth into her cheeks to smother her cry when a fist slammed on the island. It struck with enough force to topple a bottle of wine. She heard it hit the floor and shatter. Cursing to himself, the man rounded the corner. Every muscle in her body cramped into rigid agony as his footsteps grew closer and she heard him walk around the bar, the remnants of the wine bottle crunching beneath his boots. She could feel him studying the small area, assessing it. Unable to hold it anymore, she released the breath she’d been holding as slowly and silently as possible while listening to the man toss the wrought iron stools across the intimate space.
Another loud curse marked his departure. Taylor waited until she could no longer hear him moving before easing the cabinet door open. She had to get out of there. Knowing she had been cornered and trapped in that tiny space with nowhere to run had almost killed her. She flinched, biting back a whimper as sharp shards gouged her skin, sinking deep into her knees and the soles of her feet. The crunch of glass sounded deafening to her hyperactive senses.
Poking her head around the corner, she noticed a shadowy figure prowling through the kitchen. She waited until he turned for the hall leading toward the garage before twisting on the balls of her feet and bolting for the study.
“Hey!”
Her heart threatened to stop at the fierce bellow, but she didn’t falter. She didn’t pause. She didn’t dare stop. Blood made her feet slick and her soles lost traction, sliding against the hardwood floors, hindering her mad dash for the study. The voices seemed to come from everywhere at once. She slipped, skidding into the wall. Thrusting her arm out, Taylor propelled herself using the palm of her hand. She somehow kept her balance enough to keep running, but the door seemed to move farther and farther away. A hulking beast of a man stepped into the hall from the darkness of the living room and she stumbled to a stop. Before she could turn to run the other way, two arms wrapped around her from behind, lifting her feet clear off the floor.
Panicked and enraged, Taylor threw her head back with a frustrated scream. Pain exploded through her skull, accompanied by a sickening crunch as white-hot light flashed before her eyes. Her captor howled in pain and dropped her.
“The cunt broke my nose!”
She couldn’t help but feel a small glimmer of satisfaction. It quickly faded.
The man who’d come out of the living room approached in rapid strides. Even in the shadows, she could see the harsh press of his mouth and the fury stamping his sharp features. Her heart thudded in what felt like one continual earthquake. People were closing in on her from all sides.
Once again, she was wrested off the floor from behind. This one was smart enough to keep his head cocked to the side. Thrashing in the iron grip, she struggled and snarled, still fighting to break free. When that didn’t work, she used his hold to rear back and kick at the other men as they drew near. The butt end of an assault rifle closed in quick from the corner of her vision. Knowing she had nowhere to go, Taylor clenched her jaw and braced herself for the blow. Blackness mingled with pain as she tried to fight her way through the haze.
In the end, the darkness won.
Chapter 11 ~
Muffled voices droned in and out, luring her out of the gray haze that surrounded her. Taylor was vaguely aware of the way her head bobbed as she fought to claw her way out of unconsciousness. As tempting as the escape of oblivion was, she feared the unknown even more. It took effort and several tries, but she finally managed to fight the weight of her lids enough to slit her eyes open.
For a moment, she blinked, squinting against the double vision that blurred her surroundings until one single, terrifying face came into focus. She could only assume that man was Laychee.
He sat perched on the edge of a chair across from her. His broad, flat face was impassive but his flint-like eyes were sharp and curious. The stocky blond shifted, leaning closer, and she realized he bore a striking resemblance to his brother. Right down to the way the tip of his nose turned up in an impertinent salute. A chilling smile rode his lips as he regarded her. Straight white teeth flashed like a beacon in the dim light of the study.
Taylor jerked away, flattening against the back of the chair as he reached for her. Thin restraints bit deep into her wrists, making her wince. She couldn’t be sure, but they felt like zip ti
es. Her eyes narrowed with hatred as he reached out and snared her jaw in a brutal vise. Thick fingers encased in gloves sank into tendons and bone, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a whimper.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence with a flat whisper. “You’re the reason my brother had to die.”
It was a statement, not a question. Ignoring him, her gaze darted to Sebastian’s desk. Her heart sank when she spotted the vast array of papers and office supplies strewn across the gleaming mahogany surface. If they’d rummaged through his drawers, they’d surely found his gun. She swallowed against a wave of nausea and disappointment.
The coppery tang of blood slid across her tongue as Laychee jerked her face toward his. Her breath came loud and forceful through her nose as she glared back at him. He pressed closer, but she had nowhere to go.
“I don’t get it,” he speculated with a shake of his head. “Don’t get me wrong, toots. You’re a hot little number, and I’m sure you feel real good in the sack, but is that reason enough for a man to die?” he asked. “No piece of ass is worth that. Fuckin’ twats are a dime a dozen.”
“I’m sure it makes you feel better to blame me, but it was alcohol or stupidity that killed your brother. Take your pick. All he had to do was shut up and back down, but he didn’t have the sense to do it.”
Laychee’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twitched in amusement.
“Todd never was very smart. Unfortunately for you, he was my brother.”
