Straight into another man.
His arms whipped around me and his unnatural broken smile crushed all my hope of freedom.
Jagged Scar.
The man who held me down while the bitch tattooed and inspected me. The same bitch who inserted a tracking device into my neck.
Fuck.
The tracker! I wanted to kill myself for being so stupid. The moment I arrived in Australia I went on the waiting list for a day surgery to remove. But they kept pushing me back—emergencies bumping me down the line. There was nothing I could do, and then I went back to Q.
For four days I romanced and teased the man I’d returned to. I didn’t even stop to think about such a life-threatening device tracking my every move.
Shit, Tess! I should’ve told him. I should’ve made sure it was removed straight away. I should’ve butchered my own body to remove it.
This was all my fault.
Jagged Scar clicked his tongue. “Just realized, didn’t you? I have to admit, people tend to forget about that part.” He sighed, sounding almost apologetic. “It really is a shame to do this, but your circumstances have changed.”
My brain couldn’t focus on one thing. Run, fight, run. Trembling, I said, “They were paid for me. Let me go. Please.”
Leather Jacket limped toward us. I cringed as Jagged Scar spun me to face him. I didn’t care about being naked, I only cared about killing these men and running to Q. Tears bruised again at the thought. I didn’t know where Q was. I had no clue which floor, or even which building he was in.
Oh, God. I’ll never see him again.
Leather Jacket scooped up Q’s shirt on the seat in the corner. He threw it at Jagged Scar. “Dress her.”
He nodded and let me go to open the shirt. The thought of being dressed by these bastards was too much. They had no right to touch Q’s clothes.
I snatched it off Jagged Scar, growling, “I can do it myself.” It took a few attempts to undo the buttons and shrug it on. It hung on me like a dress. The whiff of Q’s aftershave crippled me, and I wanted nothing more than to give in to the huge wracking sobs building in my ribcage.
But I didn’t have that luxury. I had to be brave and fierce. I had to stay sharp and ready to maim.
Jagged Scar didn’t capture me again, and I stood trapped in the middle of them as Leather Jacket pulled something from his trouser pocket. His black eyes glinted, enjoying my fear. “Do it.” His gaze flickered behind me to Jagged Scar.
My heart lurched into my throat and I ducked, trying to avoid whatever was coming, but it wasn’t enough. The punch to the side of my head sent stars exploding behind my eyes; I slammed to the marble floor. My knees screamed and I braced myself on my hands, trying to shake away the agony.
“Fuck me, look at you,” Leather Jacket muttered. “We thought the man who owned you was a pussy, but looky here.” A disgusting finger trailed along the base of my spine where the shirt had risen and poked the bruises on my ass. He prodded the fresh fingernail cuts Q gave me in the helicopter. “Kinky bastard, isn’t he.”
Jagged Scar laughed. “At least we know she likes it rough. That’ll entice a few others to buy a secondhand slave.”
My ears rushed with horror. “I’m already sold! You can’t do this!”
Both men laughed. “It’s not up to you anymore.” Leather Jacket squatted in front of me, brandishing the item from his pocket. He kept it hidden in his large meaty fist.
All the hatred I felt for them burned my heart and soul. I’d planned on hunting them. Tracking them like animals and making them pay for what they did—bring retribution for all the women they hurt. Now all of those goals were dust.
Because of one stupid error, my life was over. For good this time. I’d had my second chance and blew it.
“Give me your arm.” Leather Jacket smiled. “I have a present for you.”
I didn’t want any fucking present. Gritting my teeth, I snarled. “Fuck you.”
Jagged Scar chuckled behind me as Leather Jacket smirked. “I’ve missed your fight, puta. Just wait till I’ve got you all alone. You’re gonna pay for breaking my finger.”
I swallowed hard as memories of him coming to find me in the dark threatened to pull me under. “You shouldn’t have tried to rape me.”
Leather Jacket stopped smirking and glared with so much hatred it was like standing in a cauldron of hell. He lashed out and stole my arm. “You’ll regret that.”
I fought. Of course, I fought, but Jagged Scar grabbed my shoulders and held me in place while my arm was straightened and locked between Leather Jacket’s body and elbow. “I’m gonna enjoy this. Say goodbye, slut.”
With snake-like reflexes, he jabbed something sharp and painful into my arm. Almost instantly a foggy cloud descended, turning my brain to custard, my limbs to candyfloss.
No!
I clung to lucidity, but it was no use. Second by second, my heart silently poisoned me by allowing the drugs to ooze through my bloodstream.
My eyes went first—wonky and unclear. Then my limbs disappeared from my control until I fell headfirst into Leather Jacket.
He cradled me in his rapist arms as the final stretch of my nightmare closed in on me.
My thoughts shrivelled up, my breathing went shallow, and the last thing I heard sent my hopes directly to hell.
“Welcome home.”
I long to see your creamy skin blush, welted and marked it gives me a rush…
I stifled my groan as I rounded the corner to my office to find Frederick slouching against the doorjamb. Arms crossed, dark hair slicked back with gel, and sporting a tweed jacket with slacks, he looked like a poster boy for Country House and fucking Garden.
How we ended up being friends I didn’t know. We roomed together at boarding school, and when I went back to finish my exams after murdering my father, he knew something major had happened in my life. Not because I was gloomy and my normally snappy self, but because for the first time, I sported a smile and an air of relief. I finally did the world a favour by killing my old man, and I wanted to share my good fortune.
I never told him exactly what happened, but somehow he tripped me up enough to give away my history. To unveil most of my secrets and give me someone to confide in.
The moment he saw me, his lips twitched into a smirk. He ran a hand through his glossy gay-ass hair.
Glowering, I pushed my way past into the boardroom, eyeing up his carefree smile.
“Quoi?” What? I demanded when he put his arm up to barricade me from entering.
I only knew five people in this entire building. And those five people I trusted only so far. Frederick was one of them, but he was also the only one who got away with driving me batshit crazy with his antics.
“Bonjour.” He clicked his teeth. “I wondered when we’d be graced with your famous presence again.”
I knocked his arm away, and stalked toward the large oval table. Picking the head seat, I sat with my hands steepled on the tabletop. “Get to your point, Frederick.”
“Well, I assumed with a hot piece of ass at home you’d take longer than four days before coming back to this chaos.”
My temper exploded. “Don’t. Ever. Disrespect. Her.” I squeezed my eyes. Not for the first time I regretted stringing Tess up from the ceiling for the impromptu business meeting. I hated that Frederick saw her like that.
I’d been a fucking bastard to do it, but I had my reasons. Reasons that didn’t add up with the way Frederick Roux gloated at me.
He threw himself in a chair next to me, holding his hands up. “Hey. Just stating a fact.” He shuffled forward eagerly. “So…you’re finally letting a woman tame you, huh?”
“She didn’t tame me, she—” I stopped mid-sentence, swallowing back the pansy thing I was about to say. She didn’t tame me, she set me free. Definitely not appropriate for my fearsome reputation.
I seized the huge pile of paperwork that I’d requested to catch up on, and pretended to ignore him. I couldn
’t deal with his shit right now.
Leaving Tess alone had been the hardest thing I’d done since making an oath to never become my father. I left my capacity to breathe upstairs with her. Only the knowledge that she was completely safe and untouchable allowed me some relief to get to work.
What the fuck was with her panic attack? She was so strong. It didn’t make sense for her to let memories get the better of her. I’d seen enough women lose their entire lives to reliving what happened. The switch that sent them spiralling into depression and destruction never turned off.
I would never let that happen to Tess.
“Stop gloating. I can feel your smugness from here,” I grumbled when Frederick refused to look away.
“Hey, man, I’m allowed to gloat when my long-time friend finally comes to work looking well-fucked and a tinge happier than every other day of his sad little life.”
I dropped the paper and took a swing at him. Half-hearted, but I missed all the same.
He ducked, laughing. “I’m pleased for you.” Inching forward, he slapped me on the back, grinning. “Welcome to coupledom. You’re no longer a sulky bachelor who has to get his wallet out to get his kink on.”
“For fuck’s sake, keep your voice down.” My eyes darted to the door. Any moment we’d have company, and people did not need to know what I did with the cash in said wallet.
Frederick nodded. “I’ll stop now. Just happy for you, that’s all.”
Warming a little, I leaned back in the chair. “What makes you so sure I’m keeping her? I sent her back the first time. I could do it again.”
He snorted, covering up a loud laugh. “Seriously, Mercer? You were a fucking wreck the day you sent her back. Or are you forgetting I found you almost comatose, lying on your pool table, mumbling about God knows what?”
It was unfortunate that he’d found me. I’d planned on getting a lot drunker. I needed something to numb the pain.
He ducked to sniff my shoulder. I managed to deck him, not hard, but enough to make my point. “Plus, you smell like sex. You reek of it, my friend, and that little glow you’ve got going on tells me that you’ve kept her, and you’re finally going to stop kicking yourself in the balls for needing what you do.”
“Back off, Roux. I get it. You’re happy for me.” I narrowed my eyes, gathering the papers once again.
He smirked and his blue gaze, so bright that I always secretly wondered if they were fake, glinted. “You’ve got a wrinkle.”
I paused, rubbing my forehead. Great. A fucking wrinkle. It was only fitting, I supposed—I felt ancient. Ever since Franco forced Tess to bow at my feet, I’d aged a little every day, worn down by the monster inside, cursing my urges that would end up killing me one day.
Or killing the one you care for.
The thought stopped my heart, and I glowered at Frederick. “Is this another one of your fucking analogies?”
He nodded, chuckling. “Wanted to see if you cared. Bet you’ll care if I tell you there’s a crusty tie and a pair of what I’m assuming are panties sticking out of your pocket.”
Merde!
I hastily shifted in the chair and stuffed Tess’s underwear, along with my come-encrusted tie, back into my pocket. I couldn’t stop my smug grin at the vision of Tess on her hands and knees while I pile-drived my cock deep inside her. Goddammit, I wanted to do it again.
I wanted to fuck and hurt her right on this boardroom table.
As much as Frederick drove me nuts, I liked that he wasn’t afraid of me. He knew how far he could push. Whispering under my breath, I said good-naturedly, “Va te faire foutre.” Fuck off. “Stop being a dick about it.”
Frederick chuckled . “Fair enough.” His eyes darted to the door, looking to see if we still had privacy. My hackles shot up when he leaned forward, bowing his head. “I heard from the Russian mob. The man you shot for touching your slave, he’s out for blood.”
My hands fisted, and I shot forward into his personal space. “She’s not my fucking slave. Her name is Tess and she’s a part of my life now. You’ll never discuss how she came to be that way. Am I understood?”
Frederick nodded, non-repulsed by my temper. He had the disposition of an unflappable pilot. Always smooth, forever calm. I wished I could steal some of his serenity; maybe then I could stop the swirling mess of feelings inside me.
“You have my word. But can I ask one question? You made it your life’s work to save so many women from situations that you put Tess into. Why did you string her up to be eye-fucked if you hate it?”
Trust Frederick to see through the ruse. Yes, that night had been fifty percent selfish. I wanted to do something as horrid as my father. I couldn’t help it. Just once I gave into the beast and did something I deplored. I got hard watching Tess struggle and put her in a situation that fucked with her mind. But I also knew the Red Wolverine wasn’t happy with me.
Too many times I accepted his bribery—agreed to an underhanded real estate permit, or provided my name as collateral against a mob enterprise—all to get my hands on the women he traded.
My reputation was sick and tarnished in the underworld—exactly the way I wanted it. They didn’t know I used black money to fight filth; every penny went into saving slaves. But Tess. Shit, I wanted to fuck her so badly that night. I wanted to cut off the dress and take her so many fucking ways.
And with the darkness running thick in my veins, I knew it would be a good opportunity to show the minion of the Red Wolverine that I did enjoy my bribes.
Whispers had begun. Foul gossip that I released the bribes I accepted. That I turned them loose and never touched them. Something had to be done.
I couldn’t let that information leak. It would mean all the girls I’d saved would be rounded up, tracked like vermin, and sold once again into nightmares. So, I gave them a show. I put Tess on stage and fucking forgot it was all a pantomime to calm the gossip and halt one of the largest mafias involved in trafficking from suspecting me. I let myself get achingly hard, entertained visions of fucking Tess like the slave she was, and allowed other men to drool over what was mine.
She was too perfect. So amazingly sexy hanging from the ceiling, tempting me like the apple tempted fucking Eve.
The entire dinner I couldn’t concentrate as Tess hung like a gold-imprisoned doll, completely helpless, completely defenceless, completely at my mercy.
Frederick slapped my shoulder. “Stop gouging the table, Q. Your temper is getting out of control.”
Fuck. I placed my hands into my lap, cricking my neck from the overwhelming tension in my back.
“I did it to protect other women. I sacrificed Tess’s dignity and fucked with her mind in order to put on a show for the cocksuckers we do business with.” I glared at him. “Happy?”
He nodded as if it made perfect sense. “I thought as much. If you weren’t emotionally invested, you wouldn’t have ruined the show by shooting the same cocksucker you were trying to impress in the fucking leg.”
I snorted, remembering how satisfying it’d been to pull the trigger and cause bodily harm. He dared put his hands on Tess—hurt her, torture her. I would kill him next time I saw him.
Then my heart died with black repulsion remembering how Tess fainted from pain and shock. That night would go down as one of the best and worst of my life.
Shaking away the memories, I asked, “Have you heard anything? Did you rush through that bastard’s paperwork?” I wanted to confirm the building permits he requested as soon as possible. After all, the approval of his application represented Tess’s freedom. Her life for a piece of concrete and glass in the heart of Moscow. A front for laundered money, weapons, and women.
“Yes. The permits have been approved thanks to some carefully greased palms. But I don’t think that’s the end of it. The guy you shot wasn’t just his minion. It was the Wolverine’s son.”
My eyes popped wide, and I choked on my own spit.“Merde.” Just my fucking luck. I put Tess in harm’s way to protec
t the truth, and I go and shoot the fucking mafia’s golden child.
The blond idiot in his ridiculous white jumpsuit sprang to mind. I’d thrilled with pleasure when his blood seeped through his pants. He’d been taught a lesson, and Franco gave him an extra little something to remember us by when he kicked his ass out of my home.
What the hell did it mean? Would the Red Wolverine come after me for hurting his only offspring? I needed to pre-empt him before he got any wild ideas about retribution.
Frederick interrupted my plotting. “I want to meet her, Mercer.”
My eyes shot to his. “You think I want you talking to her? Telling her to run as far as she can away from me?” He never would, I knew that, but my chuckle held too much pain and stark truth to be ignored.
Je suis un faible idiot. I’m such a weak idiot.
Frederick laughed, dispelling the awkwardness. “I won’t divulge your secrets. But I do want to talk to her. I want to make sure she’s worthy of my friend.”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring his sappy comment. Damn idiot.
The door swung open and in siphoned the managers we’d been waiting on.
Frederick shifted from happy-go-lucky-friend to strict-second-in-command, facing his underlings with an iron grip. The hierarchy in the room included me as the big motherfucker and Frederick as my right-hand man. He was the link between my orders and making sure that the thousand plus staff did as they were told.
I sat silent as Katya, a long-legged fiercely intelligent woman who had bigger balls than most men, strode in. Her talents lay in project managing and sourcing new contacts. Kevin, with his balding head and spectacles, was in charge of accounting, Samuel, with his dreadlocks and scruffy clothes, worked mainly with trade staff and hands-on affairs, and last but not least was Sandra, the stern, grey-haired woman in charge of human resources.
They smiled and murmured greetings, but no one dared talk to me outside a business level. And that’s the way I liked it.
Once everyone was seated, I clapped my hands once and said, “Now we’re all here. Let’s begin.”
*****
Quintessentially Q Page 11
