“Help me. I can’t do it.”
Keeping my eyes downcast, I took the clothing and moved to his side to carefully remove his arm from his sling. “Did they put your shoulder back into place?” I kept my voice low, distracting him as I pushed the cuff over his hand, drawing it upward.
He gritted his teeth. “Yes, it’s workable, just sore. It’ll swell soon, and it’ll get worse before it gets better, but I’ll live.”
“You’ve done it before?”
He chuckled, wincing as I wrapped the shirt around his back. “I’ve been with Q for a while, Tess. I’ve been in worse condition. He’s been in worse. And we’ve both walked away, while the ones who challenged us didn’t.”
His body vibrated with dangerous tension; I allowed his strength to wash over me. Being around him half-naked made me extremely uncomfortable, but also strangely calmed me. I trusted in his abilities to bring Q home.
Franco placed his arm back for me to slink up the other cuff, settling the shirt into place. Once it clung to his shoulders, he faced me with a quirked eyebrow. “Do it up, please. Missing a thumb over here.”
I laughed which turned into a weird snort-sob thing.
Q, I’m missing you so damn much.
I wanted someone to reassure me. I wanted a crystal ball to know he would survive and stay in one piece until we found him. It felt so wrong doing such normal things when every instinct inside wanted to hunt and murder.
Franco dropped the quip in his voice. “We’ll find him, Tess. You’ll see. The only one losing any body parts is me. After all, I’m the bodyguard. I take the hard hits so he doesn’t have to.” His large knuckles brushed under my eye, catching a renegade tear. “Believe me. I’m not going to let him die.”
Franco was strong; I had to trust him. It was just easier thought than done.
The door swung open just as I finished securing the last button. A doctor, with hair so black it looked like polished obsidian, blinked in surprise. “What do you think you are doing? You’re not discharged. Get back into bed, sir.”
Franco growled under his breath. “I’m done. I’ve allowed you to poke and prod me. But now I’m leaving. I thank you for your expertise, but you can’t hold me against my will.”
“He might not be able to. But I can.” The detective with black hair and silver temples appeared behind the doctor. His smooth jaw was stiff with authority; his body pompous and full of power granted to him by the badge over his heart. “Seeing as you’re well enough to check yourself out, you’re well enough to come in for questioning.”
Nodding to a few of the men standing outside, he ordered, “Please escort these two to the station. I’ll interrogate them myself.”
Two policemen entered the room, pushing aside the doctor who clutched a clipboard to his chest. He didn’t protest as one man came for me and the other beelined for Franco.
Franco shoved the scrawny cop away and made a show of shrugging into his blazer unassisted. Once the black jacket was in place, he gingerly looped his sore arm back into the sling. “If you want to start questioning, I have one. You have something of mine. Two things actually, and I want them back. My guns. Where are they?”
I jerked away as a pudgy baby-faced cop took my elbow. “Take your hands off me.” I glowered. I had no intention of being separated from Franco. I didn’t care who they were and what law they were upholding. I would fight all of them.
The detective bared his teeth. “Yes, and it’s another reason why we are going to talk. Bringing weapons into Italia is a serious offence. I hope you have the necessary international paperwork, otherwise it could be a long holiday for both of you behind bars.”
My heart sped up as panic filled my stomach. “Please, this is a terrible misunderstanding. Let us go. We’ll come back for questioning when we’ve done what we need to do.”
When I’ve got my fiancé back. When he’s in my arms and home. Then they could lock me up and torture me for all I cared. At least Q would be safe.
The detective laughed—obnoxiously loud. “You think you can just pop in whenever you feel like it? Who the hell do you think you are? Some uppity tourist thinking they can flaunt the rules. I’m sick of your kind coming to my country and not respecting our laws. You’re coming with us. And there is nothing you can say to prevent that.” He nodded at the man beside me.
I cried out as he shoved me forward.
Franco swore as he suffered the same treatment.
Corralling us through the door, we were pushed down a long white corridor reeking of bleach and medicine. Bright lights pained my eyes as my brain worked overtime.
Think! I had to get out of this.
A wash of hot anger stole my panic, leaving me clearheaded and completely in control.
Q gave me his company. I was his intended. He’d given me nine billion pieces of power.
Money was power.
Use it.
Straightening my back, I planted my feet onto the linoleum and swung around.
The detective jerked to a halt. His badge was at eyelevel and I latched onto his name. Sergio Ponzio.
“Listen here, Mr. Ponzio. We’re not criminals. We don’t have time to explain but you’re making a big mistake.”
Sergio’s black eyes flashed with a mixture of annoyance and mirth. “Really? And why is that? To me it looks as if I’m doing my job.” Rubbing his chin, he tapped his foot dramatically. “Please…by all means. Enlighten me.”
“Tess…don’t,” Franco hissed.
I wasn’t going to mention Q. I didn’t want pompous asshats getting in the way of whatever plan Q had in motion to find him. But I wouldn’t put up with being manhandled and kept from doing my part in saving him.
Standing as tall as I could in my scruffy ballet flats, I snapped, “You’re to let us go this instant. This man is my personal protection, and we have urgent business to attend to back in France. You do not want to delay me.”
I wished I oozed wealth like Q. I wished I knew how to wield something so ostentatious but powerful. I was a fraud in jeans and a jumper but conviction radiated in my eyes.
Sergio’s face darkened. “Was that a threat, miss?”
Oh, shit.
I cried out as an officer grabbed my arms, twisting it behind my back. Handcuffs snapped around my wrists, bruising the bone beneath.
“Wait!”
No. Please no.
Franco yelled, “Get your hands off her. She’s the owner of Moineau f**king Holdings. Do your homework and you’ll find out she’s about to marry Frances’ most powerful CEO.” Franco cursed as a cop grabbed his unslinged arm, handcuffing him to his belt.