Shitless, gutless prick.
“You do and how do you explain that to Lynx?”
He froze. “How did you know it was—lucky guess, you bastard. But you’re right. Lynx would be pissed.”
My voice was breathless, raging with anger. “Let my arms go and we’ll have a fair fight. If I win you fuck off. Tell Lynx you had your ass handed to you by a bigger bastard than him.”
The man shook his head, eyes cold and flat. “You know how this will go, Mercer. Stop fighting and get in the fucking car.” He punched me again, right in the gut. “Call that incentive.”
My stomach throbbed thanks to his knuckles but I refused to buckle. “My incentive is to see you split open and screaming.” I stood taller, wishing my arms were free to deliver my threat. “You’re right—I do know how this is going to go. And it won’t end well for you.”
The guy grabbed my hair, tugging hard as if I was a truant schoolboy and not the man who would sever him into pieces.
Kill him.
Wrath steamed my blood, coiling my muscles. I no longer felt any pain—just a cold-hearted need to end them.
He ducked his head, whispering in my ear, “You cause a scene out here, and I’ll go back up to that room and put a bullet between the eyes of the slave you were fucking. Rumour has it you have feelings for her. And I bet it would hurt you a lot more watching her die than anything we could do to you.” He pulled away. “You disobey and we’ll take our frustration out on your woman. Do you want that?”
Love and hatred became the same debilitating emotion.
I loved Tess.
I hated her, too.
She’d bound my hands more effectively than the two bastards holding me.
I had no fucking power. None. All because I would give my life to make sure she was never hurt again. It didn’t matter we were out of sight—she was still vulnerable and the perfect leash to make me obey.
My head grew heavy with defeat. I refused to put her in harm’s way. Not for anything.
Looking up, I muttered, “Give me your word you won’t go back for her. Give me an oath you’ll leave her alone, and I’ll go with you willingly.”
I’ll trade my life for hers.
I knew what my future held.
Lynx would live up to his predator name. He chose the feline hunter because of what he liked to do with his victims: play. He loved to drag out their torment. Tearing the tail off the mouse, ripping the ears off a rabbit, draining whatever fight his prey had before snapping their neck. Devouring with no remorse.
I’d witnessed it first-hand. I’d seen the damage he caused. And I would fucking kill him for it.
The man holding my hair glared into my eyes—there was no intelligence but plenty of greed. Suddenly, he let me go, nodding at his men to do the same.
The moment my arms were free, I brought them to my front, rolling my wrists, taunting them with my decision. They eyed me warily, expecting me to strike again. But I’d already played my cards. They knew I wouldn’t fight—not here. Not with Tess so close.
The man muttered, “If you come to Spain with no disobedience. You’ll have our word. Our orders were to bring you—not to hurt anyone more than necessary.” He held out his hand, his lips twisting cruelly. “Shake on it, or I’ll have a man go and collect her—she might be good collateral to keep you in line. Unless your honour will do that for you.”
Fuck. He knew me better than I liked. If I shook his hand, I would honour the agreement. I wouldn’t try and kill them until I’d slaughtered Lynx and dismantled his operation from the inside out.
Protect Tess.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved my hand into his. His dry fingers wrapped around mine, shaking once with a fierce squeeze.
“You don’t touch her. I won’t touch you. You have my word, and that is law.” The phrase I used to say all the time echoed with my past. My law. It was different to the law of society. Mine gave me freedom to be the devil in disguise. It gave me the right for vengeance.
I would be kept alive for now—at least until I arrived in Spain. Lynx would drag this out—toying with me, trying to make me crack with his fucking mind games. I was his prized accomplishment. He’d become the reaper who destroyed Q Mercer.
All the goodness Tess instilled inside me slowly trickled out, leaving my conscience like a dry river bed with nothing but daggers for thoughts.
Ending the handshake, I turned and climbed into the back of the vehicle. I kept my temper hissing in the background of my mind. I would be prepared to strike—but not yet.
A gun pressed against my side as a man settled in the seat beside me. His tanned Spaniard skin melted into the darkness of the evening.
“Lynx will be honoured by your presence, Mercer. I believe he has a night full of festivities.”
My gut churned, but that was the extent of my fear. I refused to let the useless emotion dictate me. Fear wouldn’t stop the future. Fear would only ruin my chance at saving my future.
I embraced livid anger, nursing it, flaming it.
The cars pulled away from the curb; I didn’t look back. I didn’t glance up to our room or try to glimpse a tearful Tess. I didn’t focus on what I was leaving behind. I focused on what I would become in order to survive.
No one said a word as we navigated the streets of Rome, heading toward the private terminal at the airport.
The journey didn’t last long. Too fast.
We pulled up outside a private hangar and a gun prodded my side. I climbed out of the car.
A captor demanded, “Hold out your hands.”
I expected restraints, so I didn’t resist as a cable-tie wrapped around my wrists. Once disabled, they marched me toward a small jet. I glimpsed my plane a few metres away. The white fuselage rested under a cloak of stars and clouds. The gold Q and sparrows on the wingtips looked as if it waved goodbye—sending me off to a battle I probably wouldn’t win.
The air crackled with testosterone. Guns pressed my lower back, shoving me up the plane’s steps. I entered the dark brown interior of the aircraft.
Lowering my head, I narrowed my eyes at the two men standing in the aisle. More men crowded behind me, blocking any escape.
Shit, I was in for more than champagne and soft blankets.
Calm. I felt calm.
Furious. I felt furious.
“Take my warning seriously, you cunts. Every hit you deliver, I’ll repay you a hundred times worse.” Growling low and deep, I added, “Kill me, and I’ll fucking haunt you for eternity.”
Tess.
The love for her no longer had space anymore—it was swamped with lust for murder.
“Lynx told us to bring you in one piece. But he didn’t say you couldn’t have bruises.” The two men in front cracked their knuckles, inching closer. The cramped space of the cabin was a treasonous whore, giving them the upper hand.
There wasn’t much I could do. Hands bound. Honour bound. I would bide my time for vengeance.
The first punch came from behind, knocking me like a ping pong into the awaiting fists in front.
Cheekbone.
Spleen.
Ribcage.
Kneecap.
Fists kept swinging and I had no way to hide or reciprocate.
Grunts filled the cabin as they turned me from human to a piece of exercise equipment—pummelling from all angles.
Blackness stole my vision as a well-aimed fist struck my temple. I collapsed into a chair, breathing hard, tasting blood, hearing the yips and snarls of my inner demons.
Seven men to beat up one who was tied and defenceless.
Seven men who would have no intestines by the time dawn crested.
This was a playground scuffle.
The instant I touched down in Spain the real fun would begin.
*Two hours after capture*
“We’re here.”
The car swung into a private estate hidden down a driveway. The high hedges circling the perimeter acted as a natural fence. The prop
erty was nowhere near as big as the Mercer chateau, but it nevertheless housed fifteen rooms, numerous lounges, and at least three dungeons to rent. I’d been offered the use of one with any girl I wanted more than once.
From here it looked quaint and picturesque, with lights glowing warmly from rounded sash windows, and trees swaying in the night-time breeze.
The vehicle came to a stop outside the entrance. Someone wrenched open my car door; leaning in, he cuffed me around the back of the head. Fuck me, I ached. My entire body was bruised, hurting even worse than the gunshot in my thigh.
“Get out, Mercer.”
I hadn’t been cuffed since I was a fucking six years old. I wasn’t about to take it when I was almost thirty.
I couldn’t stop the cold smile stretching my lips.
Grave mistake. Huge mistake.
We were in a completely different country to Tess. My honour didn’t cross borders—I’d kept my vow to go to Spain willingly. But we’d arrived and all promises were over.
Elegantly—or as much as I could with a beat up body—I stepped from the car. The guard moved away, grinning at my obedience. I grinned back. Another man grinned. Fuck, we all grinned at each other.
Fucking pricks.
I struck.
With my bound wrists, it didn’t give me the leverage I wanted, but I managed to splay my hands on either side of his skull and tear. I jerked fast and hard as if I uprooted a tree from dirt. And in a way—that was precisely what I did.
The snap of his neck echoed in the night sky before his body fell like a useless piece of timber.
“What!” The man who was in charge stomped forward, hands raised. “You fucking—”
I propelled both arms forward, forming one giant fist. The strike caught his chin perfectly, propelling him upright, sending him slamming onto his back.
I stood over him, ignoring my bruises, cut lip, and swollen eye, and invoked more anger to flow. It was the best painkiller—it would keep me free from agony until I had the luxury of relaxing.
“Don’t ever think you can touch me without paying. It comes with a price and you can’t afford it, you fucking scum.” I spat on him, kicking dirt over his groaning body. And I want everyone to know.
I knew I’d been stalked. I’d taken precautions but not enough. Deliberately. “Touch me again and I’ll send you straight to hell.”
A strike landed on the base of my skull. I stumbled forward, cursing the rush of sickness and pounding headache. At least I didn’t have a migraine. A migraine only came when I tried to rein in the evilness inside.
Tonight I was free. I’d let my humanity go the moment I said goodbye to Tess.
My muscles seized as a gun bruised my spine. “Move, cocksucker.” Someone shoved me forward, giving me no choice but to limp ahead with my vision sputtering in and out from the blow to my skull.
The house loomed. I knew without a doubt if I went in there I wouldn’t be coming out. But there was no other option.
Trust them. Franco knows what to do. Franco had a to-do list and he would get it done.
My wrists rubbed together, searching for the hard node beneath my skin. It’d hurt like a motherfucker having it inserted. A small tracking device fully equipped with GPS, different frequencies, and indefinite lifecycle. I’d had the same doctor who’d tended to Tess insert it the morning I got her home.
At the time, I thought I’d gone overboard with precaution, but now I thanked my foresight. This would’ve happened regardless—I’d pissed off too many people to think I wouldn’t suffer. But I would use it to my advantage. I intended to make an example of them. Slaughter their entire business—send a message to the remaining cocksuckers out there that I wasn’t weak. That I wouldn’t be killed easily. Lynx would be my announcement to anyone stupid enough to come for me. They would know exactly what I would do to trespassers.
I just had to stay alive long enough for back-up to arrive.
The asshole wielding the gun in my spine pushed hard.
I snapped.
Splaying my legs for balance, I spun around, slapping the gun away. The heavy weapon clattered to the driveway.
The guy’s nostrils flared as he bent to pick it up.
Kick. Kill.
My leg twitched, and I couldn’t stop the urge. My muscles bunched; the tip of my black dress-shoe connected with the underside of his chin. His head snapped backward, sending him sprawling to the irregular stonework of the driveway.
Blood instantly flowed from his mouth, eyes flickering closed.
“For fuck’s sake—get Mercer inside!” The leader stalked toward me.
Instead of standing still, waiting for punishment, I prowled forward, pushing my taller form against his in a blatant threat. “I’m capable of stepping into a house on my own accord. I don’t trust you and your fucking imbeciles with guns.” Muttering under my breath, I said, “Tu as environ six heures à vivre. Vis les pleinement.” You have about six hours to live. Enjoy them wisely.
Not waiting for a reply, I headed toward the entrance.
Once again, I pressed the hard node under my skin. A small smidgen of relief soothed my anger. I calculated how long it would take a rescue party to turn up. If Franco had put the plan into effect before they took me, it would be anywhere from six to eight hours before the team would be mobile and on Lynx’s doorstep.
I’ll go with six hours.
Six hours to keep Lynx talking and away from any particularly life threatening tools.
Raising my bound hands, I knocked on the old-fashioned stain-glass door. The glass depicted a bare forest—tree skeletons in burnt oranges, browns, and blacks.
A memory of coming here thirteen months ago to collect a slave filled my mind—the games I played. The role I embraced of sadistic master buying a woman as if it was a normal transaction.
My heart sped up as the door swung open. I kept my features blank. Disdain dripped from every pour, no longer hiding how much I fucking hated the retard in front of me.
Lynx smiled, his tanned skin gleaming against the dark red of his suit. A black mandarin shirt, coupled with bright crimson shoes, made him look fucking ridiculous. His hair was the usual black mohawk, gelled into submission, while the shorter sides mirrored the same dark red of his trousers and blazer.
“Going on a date, Dante?” I raised an eyebrow. “Dressed like that I’d say you’re fishing for cock not pussy.” He wasn’t gay—just a fucking tosser trying way too hard.
Lynx pursed his lips. He hated that I knew his real name. Dante Emestro. When he’d contacted me five years ago, asking for help with planning permission for an illegal racetrack in a low density area, I’d done my usual background checks. I’d jangled every skeleton, knew every torrid secret. I also knew he’d sold his sister when he turned eighteen, all to gain access to the underbelly of trafficking.
Nasty piece of shit.
His black, soulless eyes glanced at my ruined dinner attire. A smile spread his lips, no doubt taking in the swelling of my face and the multitude of bruises sustained from the journey. “You better thank your fucking stars I’m not gay, Mercer. Or tonight might’ve ended in a completely different way for you.” He licked his lips. “However, I could add something along those lines to the activities if you wish?” He had no facial hair apart from a ridiculous chin strap. I would happily carve it from his face and shove it in his mouth for such a comment.
“I’d be careful, Dante. Don’t want another curse added to your reputation.”
“What other curse?”
I shrugged. “The curse you’ve brought upon yourself by bringing me here against my will.” I leaned closer, noticing he looked older than his thirty-one years—mainly thanks to cocaine abuse. “I plan on killing you tonight. You’re my trophy to show other cunts like you that I’m not going to put up with turf wars or killings.”
He laughed loudly. “You plan on killing me? I think you have it the wrong way around, Mercer.” Losing his mirth, he snapped, “You’re a
fucking fake. And I don’t play well with fakes.” Looking over my shoulder, he ordered, “Help bring Mr. high and mighty Mercer inside.”
A kick landed on my lower back, sending me careening forward. With my hands bound, I couldn’t keep my balance and sprawled at his feet. My thigh screamed as the wound sent more blood seeping. A steel-capped boot crunched against the back of my leg, smashing my kneecap into the stone floor.
Fuck! I wanted to howl. But I didn’t. I ate the pain. Devouring it just like I would him.
But I couldn’t kill him—not yet. I had no way of winning against his crew. My only chance was to drag this out until support arrived. I wouldn’t sacrifice myself—not now I had so much to live for.
Tess. Shit, her scent filled my nose. Her cries echoed in my ears. I would see her again. I will.
A foot kicked my jaw. “Payback, asswipe.” A river of blood ran down my throat—I’d bitten my tongue. I kept my lips smashed together. The agony fed my anger, wreaking havoc on my nervous system.
“Alright, enough. I need him conscious for the rest. Pick him up,” Lynx snapped.
Wrath built faster. I warmed my hands by its licking flames. Patience. Fucking patience.
Two men hoisted me under my arms, dragging me upright. My eyes latched onto the closing door. The moment it locked, I mentally began a countdown.
Six hours and counting.
Don’t do anything reckless. Keep him talking. Stay alive.
I had a fucking wedding to go to tomorrow.
Shrugging off the men, I stood tall, taking in the foyer. The typical signs of drugs, weapons, and broken women were prevalent.
“Like my latest editions, Mercer?” Dante pointed at two girls crawling into the entrance hall wearing nothing but a collar and pair of crotchless knickers. Their eyes were down, their skin pale.
My hands curled. Purple bruises marked their ribcages, yellow stains of old abuse, and malnourishment glazed their eyes.
I doubted they’d been there for long but already they existed in a grave, waiting for their soul to give up so they could be free.
Twisted Together Page 36
