Then the corridor erupted with rapid chiming.
A cell-phone.
Everyone froze. Franco lowered his head, his body rolling in on itself. “Fuck.” His eyes latched onto mine.
My instincts soared out of control. Whoever was calling had something to do with Q.
I went crazy. Twisting, turning, trying to get free. I had to answer that phone. “Please. Let us answer it!”
Sergio planted a hand on my sternum, slamming me against the wall. The cuts on my shoulder blade from Q screamed. “Behave. Otherwise we’ll be carrying you out of here in a straitjacket.”
Chiming escalated to techno bells and squeals. The phone’s ring sliced my brain; I thought I’d pass out if it wasn’t answered.
Franco snapped, “You have to let me get that. You’re messing with things you don’t understand.”
I froze, never taking my eyes from him. My heart hammered in hope. Franco would get us free.
Sergio laughed. “And what don’t I understand? Feel free to inform me because I’m dying to know.”
The phone ceased its awful chime.
My heart died with it. Q—something had happened, and we hadn’t picked up the phone. Had we ruined his chance of survival? Had these bastards taken away our one shot at finding him alive?
“Franco,” I whimpered. “What are we going to do?”
Sergio crossed his arms, watching us carefully.
Franco spoke only to me. “I didn’t answer, so the next stage of the operation is in effect. They’ll assume I’m dead and go straight to Blair as team leader.”
My face drained of all feeling. Would this unknown Blair come through for us? Would he be as ruthless and focused as Franco? God, I hoped so.
Franco softened. “Don’t worry. They’ll find him.”
“Find who?” Sergio jumped in.
Franco lost his peace, looking like a monster confined to a cage. A monster who would gladly kill to get free. “The man you’re stopping us from saving, you f**king ass**le. If he dies while you’re acting out some egotistical power trip, you’re going to be very f**king sorry.”
Sergio’s face glowed with righteous happiness. “Threat number two. You’re now classified as high risk prisoners, and I have full right to detain you until I feel you aren’t a risk to my fellow officers.”
Grabbing my elbow, he forced me forward. “Let’s go. A cell has your name on it.”
I had nothing left to lose. Nothing left to hide because if they locked me up, I knew in my bones I would never see Q again. I would die alone. I would cease to exist the moment I felt Q’s life snip from my own. “Please! It wasn’t a threat. It’s the truth.” I swallowed tears. “They took him. Quincy Mercer. Five men came and took him. You have to believe us!”
Sergio didn’t say another word as he stomped us through the hospital, past gawking patients and wide-eyed nurses.
With a punch to the large swinging doors of the exit, Sergio dragged me from bright hospital to dark evening.
A patrol car waited at the curb.
I struggled. “No! You don’t have any reason to arrest us. No reason at all!”
Sergio nodded for one of his men to open the car door. “No reason? Care to explain why pedestrians reported a topless woman pressed against the glass.” His eyes flew between Franco and me.
Franco raised his eyebrow in my direction. “Damn f**king Mercer. He always has to go one step too far.” He caught my eye, a half-smile on his lips. “Always cleaning up his mess.”
My tummy clenched, remembering Q inside me. The burn of him cutting my shoulder. I’d give anything to be curled up in bed with him talking, watching a movie.
I’d sell my soul to find him unharmed.
Bowing my head, I mumbled, “That was me. I take full responsibility. Can you write me a ticket and let me go?”
Sergio chuckled. “Public indecency is more than a ticket, miss. But it’s above that now. I believe there’s a conspiracy here. I believe some man—possibly not this man with you—but another, forced you to have intercourse. I also believe the sexual activity was interrupted by someone in a jealous rage and is now injured—by him.” Sergio pointed at Franco. “And until I understand the full story, no-one is leaving, capisci?”
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t hurt the man—but they f**king hurt me.” Franco pointed wryly to his bandaged hand and sling. “As you can see by evidence A.”
Sergio’s eyes narrowed. “Just how many men had a turn with you, miss? A threesome? A bloody orgy in my city? How many infractions do you want to add to this tally?”
Franco shook his head, breathing hard. “It’s not like that. If you stopped and listened for one goddamn second you’d be saved a lot of paperwork and possibly a man’s life!”
Sergio lost his smooth good-cop routine, launching himself at Franco. Shoving him against the side of the car, he grunted, “We found blood on the carpet. And a bullet casing by the window. If we find out the bullet matches the guns we took from you, you’re in serious f**king trouble. So don’t start waving your dick around here because it won’t f**king work.”
Spinning away, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Get them in the car. Let’s go.”
My heart infested with panic as someone pressed my shoulders, shoving me into the vehicle. The vinyl seats squeaked as I fell sideways. I couldn’t push myself up with my wrists handcuffed behind my back.
Tears bubbled in my spine but I refused to let them drip.
Franco’s body partially landed on mine. He grunted in pain but managed to sit upright and with a bit of effort drag me into a sitting position. “You okay?”
My mind swam. How could this have got completely out of control?
Tick…
Tock…
Every passing minute took Q further and further away. I didn’t want to look at a clock. I didn’t want to see just how much time was being wasted by idiots of the Italian police force.
Q. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.
A sob clawed up my throat.
Franco patted my knee. “Don’t worry, Tess. It will be okay.”
Sergio climbed into the front seat, looking at us through the barred partition. “That’s what you think.”
The interview room was frozen-over hell.
All metal and mirror and steel. My hands and feet were blue with a mixture of fear and ice. I’d been uncuffed and thrown into the room about fifteen minutes ago.