“You’re not coming,” I whispered. A whisper was the only decibel I dared converse at. Everything inside boiled like a pressure cooker, building and building, steaming and steaming until my anger frothed and overflowed. The next time I spoke loudly, I would explode.
And I would murder the man who’d killed Q. I would be cataclysmic.
Franco shook his head. “I’m coming. The moment we find Mercer, I’ll crash, but until we have him, I’m not stopping.” Pointing at the two men, he ordered, “Blair, you’re to go in first with five men. Do the preliminary sweep, clear any threats. Peter, you’re in charge of Beta squad, head in two minutes after Alpha. Round up any slaves, staff, non-immediate threats to be sorted later.” His eyes fell on me. “I’ll bring up the rear with Vincent and Tess.”
“Roger.” The two men, one black-haired, and one blond, nudged knuckles before fading back to their teams to relay the orders.
He’s trying to protect me.
Too bad. I wanted to be on the frontline. I wanted risk and danger. I wanted something to hurl this rage onto.
My heart fizzled with anger. “I’m not going in last.”
Franco frowned. “You are. You’ll still have your revenge, Tess. But this is the safest way. You’re the owner of everything Q built. Don’t ruin his legacy by killing yourself.”
The way he ruined me by dying?
I gritted my teeth, cuddling my gun as if it was my only lifeline. “You can’t stop the inevitable,” I mumbled so only the wind heard me.
Franco froze. “What did you just say?”
The inevitable will happen—I’m going to find him—where he’s waiting for me.
“Nothing.”
The first team, all dressed in identical black gear, armed with every arsenal available, darted out behind the hedges, heading toward the large driveway.
No! Wait.
I wouldn’t hang back like a helpless woman. I deserved to mow down the killers of my lover. It was my right.
Out of everything Q had done to smash my tower—it was his death that finally released me from the rubble. The bricks, always teasing with erecting, had magically disappeared. My mind was a wasteland—completely grey and barren. I was exposed to every emotion and I only felt one.
“Esclave, don’t do this. Remember everything I did.”
Q’s beautiful face consumed me—his strength, his smile.
But then he morphed and changed.
His vibrant eyes covered with a filmy white.
His tattoo hung off him in tatters.
Oxygen turned to reeking dust. My hollow heart rapidly filled with grief. It oozed through me, stealing my anger every second I stood doing nothing.
Not yet.
I refused to break down.
Not yet.
The last man disappeared; I couldn’t stand still any longer. I took a step toward the driveway.
Franco imprisoned my elbow. “No. You’re going in with me. Three, four minutes, Tess. Patience.”
Three or four minutes. That was an eternity. Time had stolen Q from me. Only minutes from our arrival, and the heartless bitch decided it was too many minutes too long. In another few minutes I might be useless with sorrow.
I obeyed time no longer.
My legs itched. My lungs gulped air. I prepared for battle.
Run.
Run. Run!
I took off.
“Tess, no!” Franco tried to grab me, but his broken body was no match for my quick paced rage.
I careened around the hedge, flying toward the open door. The soft puffs of silenced guns broke the hushed virginity of the morning.
The massive granite pillars glittered in the sunlight. Pansies and merry flowers bordered the doorstep, looking innocent, harbouring evil inside. The disguise was good. But I knew the truth.
They would die. All of them.
My hands didn’t shake. My heart didn’t stutter. I leapt over the threshold, trading sun for shadows.
“Tess!” Franco yelled.
I didn’t stop. This was the beginning of my anarchy.
The décor was all red and black and morbid. Q’s team crawled through rooms, dispatching traitors with a scope and trigger. Their black attire made them look like spiders, casting a web of retaliation, taking over their prey.
“Clear!” someone yelled, followed by a gunshot to the right. I didn’t know where to look. Men’s shouts sounded—then cut short. Running footsteps stomped—then thudded to a halt.
All around me men died—dispatched with precise coordination.
They stole my right! They took away my destiny—ending the men’s existence before I could.
The crackle of someone’s walkie-talkie slammed me into motion. They may have killed a household of bastards, but they hadn’t found Q. No alarm sounded—no raised voices.
Q was still missing—and I knew his killer would be with him.
Raising the gun, I hunted.
Time lost meaning as I sank deep inside myself—tapping into instincts and heightened senses I never knew I possessed. I embraced the animalistic part—switching off humanity, thirsting for blood.
I prowled room after room.
Stripper poles and couches in one. Cinema and media in another. Kitchen. Bathroom. Office.
Bodies. I stepped over countless corpses from the efficiency of Q’s team. Clean shots to either forehead or heart. Their vacant open eyes didn’t raise my heartbeat or garner any emotion but hatred; deep seated hatred kindling in my chest where my heart used to be.
“Tess, you’re not listening to me. Stop this—before it’s too late. I can’t save you again.” Q’s voice threaded with my conscience.
You can’t save me because you’re dead.
Shaking my head, ridding the craziness brewing inside, I entered a bedroom. And slammed to a halt.
Dark, dingy, not a dungeon, but not far off. Bunk beds lined each of the four walls. The lack of windows, and dampness from the floor, settled fast into my bones.
I sat on a threadbare mattress, looking around my new home. Girls huddled on each bed. All of them wore an aura of tragedy, eyes bruised with loss, skin painted with injuries and shadows.
A man loomed over me, his beard black and gross. Reaching behind him, he bared a knife.
The flashback of Mexico interlinked with the image in front of me. Bars across the windows, mattresses on the floor, women bound and gagged.
Two members of Franco’s team helped the six girls from a variety of horrible positions. Some were collared to the wall, others were tied to poles, slouching painfully.
Their na**d bodies showed numerous evidence of abuse. Tortured. Raped.