Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

Saying those words out loud for the first time was sending his neatly compartmentalized rage rolling to the surface.
    "What do you need me to do?" Rachael carefully asked.
    Sebastian took a few breaths, trying to regain some control. "He still wants to see this through. Probably even more than before. There is still one member of law enforcement that he thinks he can trust. The thing is, as far as I can tell, everyone thinks Daren is dead. The second we get in contact with this guy, Daren's going to be a target again. He can still barely walk and if he needs to get out in a hurry while I'm meeting with this guy…"
    "You need someone to handle protection and extraction if the operation goes number ten."
    "We've thought of every possible way of doing it with just the two of us, but—"
    "Sebastian, it's good you brought this to me. This is what I do for a living. I mean usually we're dealing with paparazzi and the occasional kidnapping attempt and not the mob, but I like a challenge."
    Sebastian put his face into his hands and began to shake. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Rachael said no, but that she said yes meant they were that little bit closer to real danger. He could feel not just the rage but the worry, fear and stress of the previous weeks crawling their way to the surface.
    A waiter arrived with their food and Sebastian shoved all those feeling down again and stomped on them hard. There was too much to do first.
    Rachael pulled a fry from Sebastian's plate, ignoring the vegetables on her own. "Do you have a meeting time set up yet?"
    "No. I wanted to see if I could get you on board first. Honestly, I'd rather we just ran away to a cabin in the woods at this point, but…"
    "Sounds like a brave kid."
    "Kid's the operative word," Sebastian muttered. Rachael raised an eyebrow at him. "He's legal."
    "Barely?"
    "A little more than barely, but he was going to clubs, hanging out with his friends, and avoiding college just a few months back. Now…"
    Rachael stole another one of his fries. "Now he's got you up to your eyeballs in scary, dangerous shit."
    Sebastian started dismantling his BLT instead of really eating it. "I'm not an adrenaline junkie. I don't like scary, dangerous situations. I'm not good in them."
    "Oh no, sailor. That last one is a lie."
    "How would you know?"
    "Because that last party at your place, I went digging through your closet looking for a spare blanket for Jimmy and found your uniform, which I'm sure looks great on you, and a little box with all your decorations. And you've got a few for being badass."
    Sebastian didn't like to think about the things that happened to get medals pinned on his chest. "Getting drenched in someone else's blood without shitting yourself is hardly the same thing."
    Rachael just shook her head at him and finally started on her own lunch. "So I'm guessing you don't want me to bring in a team for this?"
    "I'd rather you didn't. In fact if anyone asks, deny I exist."
    "I think I can manage that. Have you got a time frame on this?
    "I don't know. Soon. Daren wants to get this done before the case completely falls apart."
    "And after?"
    Sebastian shrugged and examined a bit of bacon. "Not sure. Make a run for the border. Keep our heads down for the next decade."
    "Do you love him?"
    Sebastian's head snapped back. He wanted to pretend like he hadn't heard the question, but it was too late. Still, he tried. "What?"
    Rachael just rolled her eyes at him. "You've known this kid for, what, a few months, if that. You're risking your life for him. You're talking about going on the run with him. Do you love him? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with him? 'Cause that's what you're talking about."
    Sebastian didn't have a response. Yes, no, maybe, and 'I'm feeling a bit existential about it,' were all valid answers. "What have I got keeping me here?"
    "That is so not an answer."
    He tried to focus on anything but Rachael. The condensation running down the side of his glass, the strange pink color of the mayonnaise mixed with the tomato, the chickadees screaming in the tree just a few feet away.
    "I didn't meet him," he said very softly, not raising his eyes from his plate. "I found him, in a bloody heap, half dead, just conscious enough to beg not to be taken to the hospital, because if anyone found him they would kill him."
    "Jesus." Rachael somehow made that one word carry buckets of pity, horror, and a little irritation.
    He finally looked up at her. "I