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“You see, Sebastian, entities—people, they only have power over us because we let them. What would SKALS be without their secrets and resources?”
Getting no answer, Dominic spun on him and plowed a forceful fist into his midsection. Tensing his abdomen did little to deflect the blow, and the air left his body in a loud snort. Gasping, he strained against the tape. Laychee laughed to his right.
“Since you’re not in the mood to talk, I’ll tell you,” his teammate said. “They’d be nothing, just another failed operation with a bunch of scared little puppets scrambling to avoid the aftermath. I never did understand that. For all intents and purposes, we are a private organization. The government doesn’t claim us. I mean they can’t, right?” he asked with a crazed laugh. “No one wants the connotations attached to something like us, but they are more than happy to use us as they see fit.”
“Get to the point,” Sebastian rasped.
“I’m out. I’m moving on to bigger and better things, but if I walk away, I’m as good as dead. You, Marx, Josh—you’ll eventually hunt me down and put a bullet in my head, and that’s if I’m lucky. I mean that is what we do with a dog who’s turned on their master. We put them down. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?”
He nodded. Much to his chagrin, Dominic continued with his demented spiel.
“You can’t do that if you no longer have the technology or means. Think I’m stupid all you want, but I know Marx views you as his prized protégée. Your security clearance is through the roof. You have access to things the rest of us will never see: documents, passwords for armories, helicopters. Our system can break through and scramble any firewalls out there. SKALS is a waste. I can see that now. Why be content with scraps when you can have the whole damn buffet?”
Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that what this guy has been telling you?” he asked, indicating toward the muscled thug with a jerk of his head. “Never listen to the promises people whisper in your ear, Dominic. Especially when they’re trying to get you into bed.”
“Stop trying to use that psychobabble bullshit on me!” he roared.
The chair teetered onto two legs and crashed to the floor. Sebastian choked back a cry as his shoulder struck first, driving into the unyielding concrete. He rested his head against the cool surface; his words came in a hoarse rumble. “I’m not giving you anything. One way or another…you are dead.”
“Stop,” Laychee ordered calmly. “We’re getting nowhere like this. All we’re doing is wasting precious time.”
Sebastian glared at the boots approaching his head through a pain-soaked haze. His eyes narrowed with fury and contempt as the man crouched in front of him.
“You know, in some sick way, I admire you. You’re not only a powerful man, but you stand behind your convictions. It’s a shame we found ourselves on opposite sides of the fence, Sebastian. You and I could have made an unstoppable team.”
He grunted as Laychee hoisted the chair into an upright position and the room droned in and out with the pulsing roar of blood in his ears. Something, pride—instinct, forced him to fight to hang on to the fragile threads of consciousness. He steadied his breathing and forced his attention back to Laychee as the man loomed over him. A taunting grin rode the thug’s meaty lips. His fist struck without warning, hitting just below his eye, and Sebastian’s surroundings blurred behind a blinding flash of white. Another punch sent the world spinning off its axis, and his head fell back.
He distanced himself, letting images of Taylor play through his mind: her sitting in front of the fire, grey eyes sparkling with love and desire. Another blow rocked him. Their time at the hotel flashed before his eyes, along with every intimate moment they’d shared. They were supposed to be married. He couldn’t help but wonder if that day would ever come now. Instead of giving in to despair, he clung to images of what would happen on that day: what her dress would look like, where they’d exchange their vows. Eventually, the warehouse and its horrors started to fade away.
Laychee’s thick fingers bit into his jaw, wrenching him from his pleasant escape.
“No, no, Sebastian,” he taunted. “I know what you’re trying to do here, but it won’t work. There’s no escape. You’re going to focus and stay with me.”
He tried to concentrate on the man’s face, but it was getting harder and harder to hold on. Despite the chill permeating the building, sweat soaked his skin, drenching his clothes, and plastering his hair to his scalp. Blood trickled down his temple and coated his tongue. His midsection throbbed.
“Spit out the passwords or your little girlfriend is going to pay.”
He stared at Laychee before forcing his attention away with a shrug. “Go ahead.”
“Do you think I’m stupid, Sebastian?” the man hissed.
He grimaced as a warm spray of spittle speckled his face. Light reflected off steel in a menacing glint, and he stiffened when the icy blade greeted his throat.
“I saw that rock she was sporting.”
He laughed dryly despite the pain, his pale gaze swinging up to meet his captor’s. “It was just a way to lock her down and keep her mouth shut.”
“You put a hell of a price tag on silence,” Laychee mused, pressing the tip of the knife under Sebastian’s chin. “I wonder what you put on her life.” Reaching back with his other hand, he tossed his cell phone to Dominic. “Call them up.”
All feeling fled his face as he watched his teammate smile. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know. It was easier that way, but that was their point. Bracing himself, he blew out a shaky breath and feigned curiosity. Fucking mobile technology was going to be the death of him. It took everything he had not to let his eyes drift shut when he heard Taylor’s voice on the other end.
“Last chance, Sebastian,” Laychee warned.
Gritting his teeth, he hardened his heart and turned away. Seconds later, the smartphone hovered in front of his face. Sebastian played along, training his attention on the screen. Taylor lay sprawled on the floor in his study. A brutal kick to her side lifted her and sent her crashing onto her back. A fresh wave of blood coated his tongue as he listened to her cough and fight for breath. One side of her beautiful face was already purpled and swollen, bearing the stamp of an angry handprint. Leaning closer, he took note of the men’s features and committed them to memory on the off chance he did make it out alive.
“Nothing?” Laychee asked, sounding slightly surprised. He turned to Dominic and cast his hands up in a show of disgust. “What sort of fucked up shit do they do to you guys that he can sit there and smile like that?”
“You have no idea,” his teammate muttered.
Sebastian regarded them both with an amused smirk. For some reason, the man’s assessment of his reaction felt good. It was enough to give him a renewed surge of strength.
“I told
you. She knows nothing and she means nothing. It’s not my fault you refused to believe me.”
“No!” Dominic yelled with an adamant jab of his finger. He paled when Laychee’s accusing glower swung his way. “He’s full of shit! It’s just a ploy. Come on, man. I’ve seen them together. They can’t keep their hands off each other. He—he stopped cutting your brother up because it was upsetting her.”
“I’m not seeing that, Dominic,” Laychee countered, annoyance riding his voice. “I’m seeing a man who’s fucking smiling as we beat the shit out of some woman he allegedly loves! You told me this would work. I’m done doing things your way. I’m getting my revenge. As for your plans to take over the world or whatever fucked up shit you have planned, you’re on your own.”
Sebastian regarded the two men with an increasing sense of dread. Whatever was coming wasn’t good. Keeping his cold countenance in place, he chuckled. Laychee spun on him with a snarl, his massive body coiling with tension.
“What the fuck is so funny?” he snapped.
The cold press of steel once again kissed the side of his neck. This time, it drew blood. Sebastian met his flinty stare with a smirk.
“You might want to rethink that plan,” he said in a raspy whisper. “I don’t know if your friend here told you or not, but we tagged you with a micro dermal chip the night before the funeral.”
“What?”
Dominic blanched, pedaling back a rapid step when the other man whirled on him. Fury twisted Laychee’s wide face in to a livid mask. Red and purple flushed his pale skin as he prowled closer.
“I swear it…it slipped my mind,” Dominic rambled, retreating.
“Slipped your mind or was the ace up your sleeve in case you had to play both sides?” Sebastian asked dryly.
