Chapter 39 – Sebastian
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
SEBASTIAN
W e take Nicky to the same hospital we took Taylor. It’s a fucking amazing place, a private facility hiding in plain sight in central London. From the minimal amount of form-filling and lack of personal questions, it’s obvious this hospital is for people who want to stay beneath the radar while also receiving the best medical care. It crosses my mind that it’s exactly this type of establishment that would have ignored Caroline’s injuries at the hands of Volkov and his pals, but I have to put that out of my mind so the people I care about can reap the benefits.
We were able to get Taylor here fast and without any awkward conversations about bullet wounds. Lauren called her cousin, and the Montoyas provided cleanup back at my cabin. I could have sorted it myself in time, but making seven bodies disappear isn’t easy, even if you could bury them where they lie. There were loose ends to be tied up, like their vehicles and their phones, and I was happy to let someone else take charge. I have no doubt that Alejandro Montoya knows the right people to make it all go away.
That left us free to concentrate on the search for Nicky and left me free to concentrate on Lauren. She was doing a magnificent job of not only keeping her shit together, but also of motivating the rest of us, but I could tell she was suffering beneath the surface. I wanted—no, needed to be with her in case she crashed. And really, who could blame her? She fought for her life, saved mine, killed a man, and was exposed to that fucking house of horrors near Dover. If we hadn’t found Nicky when we did, I’m not sure how she would have coped.
Standing outside Nicky’s room, I watch the two of them through the window. The boy is doing well, and the docs here say he’ll make a full recovery. His arm has been re-cast, he’s on a drip for fluids, and he’s finally warm. Physically, he’s going to be fine. The rest will be a work in progress, the poor kid.
He was hiding in that tree trunk for three nights while Volkov got what he needed from Caroline and cleaned house. I’m sure he sent men to look for him, but Nicky outsmarted them all. He’s clever and brave, but right now he feels broken, and I understand that. He won’t even have his revenge to look forward to, because Volkov is already dead. Still, I’m glad we saved him from that. Killing your own dad, no matter how evil, isn’t ever going to be a simple thing.
Lauren showered after we got Nicky here, and her dark curls lay damp on her shoulders. Although the boy is asleep, she continues to hold Nicky’s hand. She must be exhausted herself, but she refuses to leave. Refuses to stand down in any way.
Like I said, fucking magnificent. She’s still wearing my ring, and I can’t wait to make her mine——as much as a creature like her can ever be anyone’s—and slide another one onto her finger.
“You’re a lucky man.” Sasha catches me by surprise, joining me by the window and nodding in Lauren’s direction. “She is an incredible woman. I think I might be in love with her.”
“Yeah? First my daughter, now my woman? Are you deliberately trying to get me to smash your face through this plate of glass, pal?”
He laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. “I apologize. What can I say? I have a generous spirit when it comes to women. But in all seriousness, she is marvelous, Sebastian. I love her ferocity, her loyalty, Plus, she has an absolutely amazing a?—”
“Stop right there, or we’re going to have a problem. I know she does, but I don’t want to hear those words coming out of your mouth. Fuck. I can’t believe she killed Volkov.”
Sasha’s face lights up at the memory. “I know. Axe to the chest. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man. I was hoping to have a little more time to play with him, but I’m not complaining. I meant what I said earlier though—he will be replaced. They always grow back.”
“Like mushrooms in shit?”
“Yes. It’s one of my missions to be there to cut them back down. If ever you or your lovely fiancée would like in on that action, say the word. The law doesn’t work for pigs like this. It takes scum to wipe out scum.”
“You’re not scum, Sasha. You’re a good man, and you’re my friend.”
He looks genuinely moved and envelops me in an unexpected bear hug. Sometimes I forget how emotional he can get, but it usually only happens when he’s a bottle of vodka in. I find myself wondering, too, about what he said regarding his vigilante approach to the Volkovs of the world. It’s not entirely without its appeal.
We’re interrupted by the arrival of Gabriel, who’s holding a sleeping Max, and Samantha, who nods to Sasha. He politely makes his farewells and leaves us to it.
“Dad, I’m so glad you’re all okay and that you found Nicky. Gabriel’s only just let me out of the house,” my daughter says, giving me a hug. It must be my lucky day—or maybe I look like a man who really needs a hug.
“Good,” I reply. “I’d have been disappointed at anything less. We weren’t being overprotective, Sam. The threat was real. You and Max spending a few hours in the basement is a small price to pay to keep you safe, you know that.”
She kisses me on the cheek. “I do know that, yes.” She glances through the window at Lauren and Nicky, who looks tiny in an adult hospital bed. “Oh, look at him… He’s got a tough road ahead, hasn’t he?”
“That he has,” I say, following her gaze. “But at least he’s alive to walk it. How’s Taylor?”
Gabriel has been checking in on him and keeping me up to date. “He’s good. He’s out of surgery, and the docs say he’s some kind of miracle. He shouldn’t be alive, not with his injuries or the amount of blood he lost, but… Well, he’s proving them wrong. He’s also asking for you, mate. I know you’ve had your issues with him in the past, but bear in mind the man took a bullet for you, okay?”
My temper flares at his words, which only goes to prove his point. “All right, Dad,” I say sarcastically. “I’ll be good. Keep an eye on Lauren for me?”
Samantha gazes in at Lauren and Nicky, and I see her eyes widen. She whirls around and points a finger at me. Looks like she immediately homed in on one tiny detail. Amidst all the drama, she spotted the damn engagement ring before I had a chance to tell her.
“You’d better bloody mean it this time, Dad,” she scolds, but then breaks out into a beautiful smile.
I get yet another hug and grin at her sheepishly. “I do mean it, love. With all my heart.” She plants a noisy kiss on my cheek, and Gabriel shakes my hand.
“Congratulations, mate,” he says. “Now don’t fuck it up, all right?”
I laugh as I make my way down the corridor, thrilled with their reaction. One day, when all this Volkov dust has settled, we’ll have a party and celebrate properly. For now, though, there are still questions to be answered and difficulties to be faced.
A nurse is leaving Taylor’s room as I arrive, and I find Alex and Jacob already in there. They look up at me, then glance at each other. “We’re off to get a coffee, Boss.” Alex stands up and stretches his arms.
“Or a double Scotch,” adds Jacob. “Did you know there’s a bar in this place? It’s not like any fucking hospital I’ve been in before, that’s for sure.”
The two of them leave, and I take a seat next to Taylor. He looks rough, but a lot better than the last time I saw him. Wires and tubes are sticking out from him in every direction, and the green-and-blue swirl pattern of his hospital gown looks a bit psychedelic.
“Bet your arse hangs out of that thing if you stand up,” I say, taking in his ghostly pallor and the way he winces with the slightest movement.
“No worries there, Boss. Won’t be standing up for a while. Glad you found the kid.”
Every word seems to take a herculean effort, and I feel like I should leave and let him rest. He asked to see me, though, so I make myself stay.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have been finding anyone if you hadn’t jumped in front of that bullet. Not that I’m ungrateful, but what the fuck were you thinking? And while I’m asking questions, what was that you said about following me? If you’re too knackered and want me to piss off, I will, but if you’re up to it, you’ve got my full attention.”
He rubs his face with one big hand, the leads of his monitors following him, and finally looks me in the eyes.
“I followed you for the same reason I came to London. Because of you.”
I frown, confused. “What the fuck does that mean? I thought you came to London for a fresh start after your mum died.”
“I did. But I also came to London to work for you. To find out more about you.”
“Why the hell did you want to find out more about me?”
“Because you’re my dad, okay?”
I stare at him in disbelief. I shake my head and even poke my fingers in my ears in case I didn’t hear him right. Did he say what I think he said? That I’m his bloody father ? That makes no sense at all. Except… Fuck, look at the size of him. Look at the way he handles himself. Look at the awkward way he’s always behaved around me.
“Tell me more,” I manage to say, the words all I can squeeze out.
“My mum was called Tracy. Tracy Grant. She raised me on her own, and I’ve no complaints—she was mum and dad to me, and she did a brilliant job. She never told me much about my dad, but she didn’t slag you off either. She said she only knew you for a few nights, on holiday in Tenerife when she was young. Said you were a wild one who wouldn’t have wanted to be tied down, so even though she knew your name, she didn’t try to contact you when she found out she was expecting. She never forgot you though—every time I got into trouble for scrapping, she’d smile and say something about not being able to fight nature. Not in a nasty way, just sort of… deep, I suppose. Like she was thinking about you.”
He’s looking at me beseechingly, and I know he desperately wants me to remember her. Maybe to say she was special, the one that got away. That I always carried happy memories of my holiday fling around with me. That would make him feel better, but I can’t lie to the lad like that.
I scrub my face with my hands and blow out a big breath. “Fuck. Taylor, that’s a lot to take in… and she was right. I was a wild one back then. How old are you again? Twenty-three?”
He nods, and I do some maths in my head. That wasn’t the most stable time of my life. I’d left the army, drifted in and out of jobs, hadn’t really found whatever it was I was looking for. Hadn’t found anything that filled the hole left by Samantha’s mum leaving and taking my unborn child with her. It was before I met Gabriel and we started working together, before Sam came back into my life. I was wild in every way, and that included with women. I’m not proud of the way I was, but I can’t change the past.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, kid. Obviously, I didn’t know. I wish… Well, I wish she’d told me. I wish she’d found me and told me. I would have stepped up. I would have been there for both of you, instead of letting you grow up without a dad.”
“I told you, I have no complaints—it made no difference, you not being around, because she was every bit as good, all right?” Even in his messed-up state, Taylor’s temper rouses when it comes to any perceived criticism of his mother.
“All right, mate. Don’t blow a gasket. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… Well, I’m sad, I suppose. Sad I missed out on you as a kid, that I didn’t get to see you when you were little. Hell, I’m sad you just turned up fully grown in my life, like a bad-tempered brick shithouse.”
He croaks out a laugh that turns into a cough, and I pass him a glass of water.
“I never looked for you when she was alive,” he says when he’s recovered, “because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was enough for me. But when she found out about the cancer, she wrote me a letter telling me everything she remembered about you. Your name, where in London you lived, that you worked on the doors at a nightclub called Solitaire.”
“Fuck. That’s a blast from the past. And that was enough for you to find me?”
As I ask the question, I actually start to remember his mum. It’s a vague memory, fuzzy around the edges, but the name of the club sparked something. She was a feisty blond with legs that went on forever, there on a trip with five of her mates. We hooked up, spent a few days together roaming the island on quad bikes, partying and messing around. She was from up north, and I told her if she was ever in London she should call me, come and have a free night out in the club where I worked. Bloody hell. It was casual, a fling. It meant nothing to either of us, and I haven’t given it a second thought since.
But here is Taylor, lying in a hospital bed before me, living proof that it ended up meaning quite a lot.
“It was. I was already working the doors myself, so it felt right when I found out more about you. Maybe I should have told you immediately, but I wanted to see what kind of man you were first. If you were a twat, I would’ve left. If you were decent, I would’ve told you.”
“Makes sense. Except you did neither.”
“That’s ’cause I couldn’t make my mind up. You seemed like you were both decent and a twat. I needed more time.”
I snort with laughter. The kid isn’t wrong. He’s starting to look wrung out now, and I bet his pain levels are pretty horrendous. Being a macho shit like his dad, though, he won’t be letting on while I’m in the room, so I make the decision for him.
I don’t think either of us is quite ready for full-on fatherly hugs, especially him with his stitches in, but I give his shoulder a light squeeze. “I’m going to let you get some rest, all right? I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m glad you told me. We don’t know each other that well yet, but we can fix that. We have all the time in the world. I’m going nowhere, and very fucking clearly, neither are you.”
I pause and clear my throat. “I won’t be able to make up for everything I missed, but I already know I’m proud to be your dad. Now, stop being a hero and press that bloody morphine button, will you?”
He gives me a sheepish grin, and I recall his mum more clearly now. He looks a little like her. Poor bastard looks like me too, though.