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He tensed, the blood draining from his face. His entire body went numb with shock and fear. Jesus, would this nightmare ever end?
“What? How…how is she?”
Josh shook his head. “I don’t know, Baas.”
“Why the hell didn’t you ask?” he snapped.
The car jerked to the right with a hard swerve as Sebastian’s phone bounced off the side of the other man’s arm. Backing and battery alike broke free and tumbled to the floorboards. Straightening the Benz, Josh grunted and rubbed the side of his bicep.
“Ouch! Jesus Christ! What the fuck, Sebastian? Are you trying to get us both killed?”
“Just you,” he stated coldly. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. Just drive.”
Chapter 14 ~
Taylor stared at the big bull of a man with a combination of fear and dread. His heavy muscles strained against his black dress shirt and slacks as he strode down the hall beside the gurney. Sebastian’s boss was the last person she’d expected to see when the door to the backseat of her car had swung open. She wasn’t too sure death wouldn’t have been a more merciful end.
He’d said nothing, not even when he’d hauled her out of her car and carried her to the back of a waiting van.
Her only relief came from the fact that they’d laid Henderson there on the floor beside her, and even that was short lived. Blood pooled from his abdomen and an angry side wound on his head, soaking the metal beneath them.
Once they’d shut the doors, he’d turned his face toward hers with a sad smile. Fresh and dried blood alike stained the salt and pepper stubble smattering his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he’d whispered.
That simple declaration had hung between them the entire time. Unable to respond, she’d stared at him while tears leaked over her cheeks. Even now, it continued to haunt her and she glanced around in search of the wounded guard.
He was nowhere in sight.
Worry and fear clenched her heart like a fist. Her surroundings chilled her to the bone. The concrete walls shone a glossy painted grey, and dim strips of fluorescent light tubes flickered overhead as the stretcher passed beneath them. She was all too aware of the thick straps pinning her against the gurney. After being bound at home, the sensation made her want to scream. A whimper stuck in her throat when her eyes grazed over the massive skull and crossbones emblem stretched across one wall, the toothy leer sending a jolt of terror straight down her spine as she realized where she was.
She’d seen the same tarnished silver insignia on Sebastian’s lapel enough times to know what it stood for, even if she wished she didn’t.
Marx glanced down at her. A smug grin curved the full spread of his lips, and a spark of amusement danced in the dark pools of his eyes. “Welcome to SKALS, Miss McAvay.”
Her chest shuddered as she fought to breathe. Why? Why was she here? A sick ball of dread churned in her stomach. Did they think she had talked? She felt a slight quiver rattle her chin as she struggled to find her voice. It still wouldn’t come. Inside she screamed, railing against the complete and utter helplessness of her situation.
Why hadn’t Laychee’s men just killed her? As chilling as the thought was, she was certain it would have been a million times quicker and less painful than whatever lay in store for her now.
Marx’s smile faded. His hard eyes bore into her as he leaned down and studied her. “I’m not sure if you’re being rude or if you just aren’t much of a talker. Either way, I doubt Sebastian would approve. I certainly don’t.”
Though her lover’s fate was still uncertain, the threat was enough to send a raw surge of panic down her spine. Her pleading gaze darted to the director’s, silently begging him to understand.
“Good,” he said, straightening. One big hand patted her knee as he winked. “I’m glad to see you’re still in there after all. Now let’s see what we can do about helping you find your tongue again, shall we?”
The pleading in her eyes intensified as she wondered if that meant he understood her situation, or if that was a veiled threat. Her fingers curled on the stretcher beside her, and she tried desperately to pump her fist.
He pulled the gurney in silence until they reached the end of the corridor. Taylor stared at the massive interlocking metal doors, her terror reaching an all-new level of extreme. Sweat beaded along her brow and slicked her hands. Her heart slammed against the walls of her chest and stutter skipped as Marx scanned his thumb, then his retina. He punched in a brief code and the hiss of decompressing air filled the hall as the doors slid open. If she could have clawed her way to freedom when they glided back shut, she would have.
They made a quick right. Straight metal doors with no windows and thick numbers stenciled in black lined the long corridor. They reminded her of the solitary cells in the prison shows she’d seen. Somewhere, she thought she heard someone scream. She tried her best to forget they tortured people here and get her raging pulse under control.
Marx turned left, dragging her along with him. Gooseflesh erupted as the air grew colder. All of the twists and turns made Taylor think of the infamous catacombs. The irony was not lost on her. Grim, grey, and hidden out of sight from the rest of the world, this too was a place of death.
Another set of interlocking doors waited at the end of the hall. The light inside that room was bright, blinding, after the comfortable dimness of the corridors. Her eyes darted around and a low, pleading noise rose in the base of her throat. Thin fluorescent strips dangled from the metal beams overhead, along with the same massive metallic spotlights they had in hospitals. The glossy white walls lent to the cold sterility of the room, and the harsh smell of antiseptics and disinfectants hung in the air, making her nostrils sting. Seeing the stainless steel trays and sinister looking medical contraptions, she shook with an imploring moan.
Marx barely shot her a second glance. He strode across the room and pressed a button she could only assume was an intercom.
“Where the hell is the medical team? I need them in here STAT,” he barked.
Something deep inside her winced and tried to burrow into whatever protective shell it could find. Despite the man’s imposing size, his footsteps fell silently against the floor as he approached. His heavy brow furrowed as he took note of the tremors wracking her from the inside out.
Taylor stared at him through a shaky haze. Her heart thudded even harder when he reached for her and pried back an eyelid, his gaze narrowing.
“No,” the director snapped in a forceful voice that vibrated clear through her. A scowl stamped his expansive face. “You aren’t taking the easy way out. Do you hear me, Taylor? You’re going to fight.”
Sebastian stalked through the halls with as much speed as his battered body could muster. He’d squinted several times trying to clear his vision enough to keep from running into a corner when they turned. Beside him, Josh said nothing, though a nervous tension radiated off the man.
They’d heard security announce his arrival, meaning Marx was here, and he was smart enough to be on the defensive. A blackened frown rode his face as they turned down the hall toward the infirmary. Caution wasn’t going to be enough to save him. Not this time. He barely caught sight of the slender sheet-clad body on the other side before their director stepped between them and the doors slid shut behind them.
Sebastian felt the muscles beneath his right eye twitch and jump in response. “Where is she, you son-of-a-bitch?” he growled. “Where is Taylor? Is that her lying in there? Is it?”
He prowled closer, his head cocking in question.
Marx frowned, his square jaw lifting an authoritative notch. “Stand down and calm yourself, Baas.”
Rage blinded him, eclipsing all else. His fists curled at his sides as Marx’s dark stare drilled into him.
“Calm myself?” he asked with a soft laugh. “I warned you. I told you something like this was going to happen. Did you even care or was this your intention all along? Was this your way of trying to get her out
of my life?”
“Sebastian…”
“No,” he interrupted with a slow shake of his head. He took another step forward and whipped his pistol free. The brushed chrome glinted beneath the lights.
“Whoa!” Josh yelled. “Whoa! Baas, put the gun down.”
Ignoring him, he kept his sights trained on their director. Surprise flickered in the big man’s eyes. “What do you think, Marx?” he asked in a cold rasp. “Is today the fucking day?”
“Baas! Seriously, put that damn thing down!” Josh exclaimed, reaching for him.
He spun out of reach, his eyes hardening, but never leaving his target. “What did I say, Marx? What did I tell you would happen if they went after my family?”
“Reevers, I strongly suggest you get your boy under control…”
