Read Twisted Together Page 32


  I saw hell.

  Launching myself at him, I swung low and hard. My knuckles bellowed as his head cracked backward, eyes rolling with the uppercut. As he fell, I brought his limp carcass forward, smashing my knee hard into his ribcage and dropped every barrier inside.

  I lost all sensation of what I did. What parts I tore, what agony I inflicted.

  His scream bounced off the walls as I shed all humanity and went rogue.

  I’ll kill him.

  No one. Absolutely fucking no one would touch Tess again and survive. I would tear their motherfucking heads off.

  “Q!”

  I ignored Tess, delivering wrath like a devil-filled tornado. Punch. Wallop. Kick. I wanted to turn his body into a lake of blood.

  A silenced gunshot went off.

  Time stuttered.

  Pain.

  Lancing horrendous pain sliced into my thigh.

  Sickness raced up my back, coating my tongue with bile.

  Motherfucker shot me.

  I roared with agony, feeding off the hot lick of fire radiating in my leg. Stumbling away from my unconscious victim, I bent over. Pushing a fingertip into the torn flap of my trousers, I found the bloody mess below.

  My breath came hard and deep as another flash of pain consumed my system. My finger was torture but I found the exit hole. No broken bones. No severed arteries. A flesh wound.

  A wound sending my anger ratcheting from uncontrollable to psychopathic.

  “No! Oh, my God. You shot him!” Tess attacked the asshole who’d lodged a bullet in my limb, bringing a rain of tiny fists onto his torso.

  Tess, don’t!

  The man batted her arms away, his face contorting with rage. Tess kicked him, screaming.

  He slapped her hard, wrenching her neck sideways with force. She went instantly limp, falling into his arms.

  No! Fuck no. Not again.

  I hurtled toward him, intending to rip his throat out but another man captured Tess, dragging her disorientated body against him. She shook her head, trying to clear the dazed fog, fighting meekly as he grabbed her breast with horrible fingers.

  Glowering at me, he yelled, “Stop! Everyone! Behave or we’ll take turns with your little slave before cutting her throat. Got it?”

  The threat worked.

  I slammed to a halt, breathing hard. Rage siphoned around my body, making me tremble, but I embraced cold calculation.

  Glancing around the room, I catalogued everything.

  Five men.

  A pentagon of doom caged me against the window with Franco in a bloody pile a few metres away. One of his eyes was swollen shut, blood covered his shirt, and he sat painfully, nursing his right side.

  Five men.

  Three with black hair and smooth blank faces, two with brownish hair and sick satisfaction wrinkling their eyes.

  I didn’t recognise any of them.

  Red Wolverine?

  No, I did enough damage to his operation to risk coming after me so soon.

  Emerald Dragon?

  No, they were based in Singapore, or was it Hong Kong—either way, I doubted they’d have the resources to come to Rome—not with the heat surrounding their names after I handed over my address book of fuckwit traffickers.

  So who are they?

  It didn’t matter. Tonight would be the last night they’d be alive. I didn’t need to know any more than that.

  I looked at Tess. Her eyes were clear, blazing with anger. Her fierceness gave me strength. No matter what I’d done with my life—healing her and giving her back her fire was enough to land me, maybe not in heaven, but hopefully not in hell.

  I’d fixed her in time. Barely.

  I would’ve been happy about that—if it wasn’t for the entirely unwinnable situation I faced. Five men against one. Franco was no use to me and I wouldn’t do anything to put Tess’s life in peril again.

  “Give her to me and I’ll obey,” I growled.

  The room shimmered with violence. A standoff. My knuckles hurt, needing to be lodged in his teeth. My thigh throbbed but shock worked wonders on deleting most of the distraction.

  Ten seconds of waiting.

  Finally the man nodded, shoving Tess toward me. Striding forward, I wrenched her behind my back. The second her form touched mine, huddling my back in a fierce embrace I sighed, gathering my wits for the next fight.

  “Q, I’m sorry—I tried,” Tess cried.

  Ignoring her, I kept my body between her and the unwelcome bastards. I concentrated on the best plan available for keeping her unharmed.

  You have to get them to leave.

  That was my only option. And I didn’t like what I’d have to do to make it come true.

  “Who the fuck are you? What do you want?” I hissed.

  Tess trembled, her rapid, shallow breaths hitting the back of my neck. Something snapped inside her, turning her silent tears into terror-filled gasps. Pressing hard against me, her teeth chattered. “They can’t—Q…I can’t do it again.” The edge of lunacy in Tess’s voice made my anger reach a whole new boiling point. “I’m bankrupt. I can’t afford another toll! Please. I have nothing left.”

  Don’t revert, Tess. Please don’t undo all my fucking hard work.

  “Get the fuck out!” I roared. “Get out before I fucking murder you!” Ignoring their guns and soulless eyes, I reached behind, crushing Tess’s front against my spine. I hated how wobbly and cold she was. “I won’t let them take you, esclave. I promise.” On my sister’s grave, I promise. “Stay with me.”

  The gunshot in my leg turned from a fire to a cataclysmic inferno.

  A silenced semi-automatic was pointed in my face. The man wielding it, sneered; his teeth perfect pegs of white. “We’re not here for her.”

  My heart bucked. Spanish accent.

  Spain.

  Everything clicked into place.

  Lynx.

  He had midway houses in Rome to traffic the overwhelming number of women he traded in Spain. The complications I’d told Tess about all revolved around that cocksucker. Young, ambitious, with no fucking remorse. Lynx had been a personal enemy ever since he killed a girl I’d agreed to trade for—just because he didn’t like the shirt I wore to the meeting.

  Asswipe. Fucking juvenile sadistic delinquent.

  Tess stifled a sob, sucking back her downfall into crazy, latching once again onto reality. She twisted in my arms, trying to get free. Glaring at the men, she yelled, “Just leave. Go back to the hole you crawled out of. Don’t do this!”

  A man with black hair laughed. “Do what? This?” Closing the distance between us, he swung the gun at my temple.

  I didn’t think. Just reacted. Ducking, I launched. Lowering my shoulder, I plowed into his chest, crunching him to the floor in a heap of body parts.

  I didn’t care about my leg. All I cared about was ripping out his fucking heart. He gasped for breath punching anywhere he could. He managed to knock the air out of my lungs, bruise a rib, kick my knee.

  He was strong, but he didn’t have psychotic rage thrumming in my veins.

  Tess.

  Above all I had to keep her safe.

  I landed a square punch, sending his fighting body into a loose pile of bones. My fingers latched around his gun, wrenching it from his hold. Limping to my feet, I aimed at the ringleader who’d royally fucked up my night.

  “Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  I swung around. My stomach splattered to my feet. One of the brown-haired men had Tess in a vice-like grip, his gun bruising her temple.

  Fuck!

  Instantly, I threw my newly acquired weapon away.

  If it was just me, I could’ve taken them on. I might not have won—but I would’ve done some serious damage before they killed me.

  But I was handcuffed by my love for Tess. I couldn’t put her in any more harm than I’d already caused. How much more did that poor woman have to go through because of me?

  I’d brought nothi
ng but death and horror into her life. I’d brought her back from the edge once. I’d paid my debts and I refused to layer her with more.

  My eyes locked with Tess: I’m so fucking sorry. So unbelievably sorry for everything that I’ve caused.

  Tess exploded into action. Shoving the guy off her, she sprinted the distance between us, colliding with my chest. “Don’t you dare look at me like that Quincy Mercer. Don’t you dare say goodbye.” Her voice cracked as tears gushed from her eyes.

  I wanted to hug her forever but another man punched me in the jaw, dragging Tess out of my embrace.

  “No!” I spun in the assholes hold, ready to tear off his ears. My heartbeat relocated to my thigh, thundering a fucking gong of agony.

  “Enough!” The man struck my temple, crashing me into Franco. I tripped over his body. He groaned in pain, but his eyes were fierce and ready to fight. “Je couvre tes arrières, Mercer. Nous pouvons les prendre. Ensemble. ” I’ve got your back, Mercer. We can take them. Together.

  His shoulder looked dislocated, and he bled out of his ears—concussion. His left hand was hidden in his bloody blazer. He’d put up a good fight but no matter how good, the odds were against us.

  My eyes flickered between the Spanish men, waiting to see if they understood.

  One man stalked toward Tess, shoving a gun against her head. Looking at me, he ordered, “Get up, asshole.” He didn’t seem to know what Franco said—just working on precaution. Obviously the dumb fucks couldn’t speak French.

  “Tu es blessé. Ne leur donne pas une raison de nous tuer. Tu connais le plan. Il faut s’y tenir.” You’re hurt. Don’t give them a reason to kill us. You know the plan. Stick to it. I glared at Franco, willing him to stay down and not be fucking stupid. I needed him for the next stage. And if the next stage failed, I needed him to look after Tess.

  Franco’s face blackened. “Je vais la garder en sécurité.” I’ll keep her safe.

  My heart stuttered in relief. I trusted Franco as much as I trusted Frederick. As long as Tess was with them, I could keep my mind sharp and find a way to survive—away from her—away from the distraction of trying to keep her from being hurt.

  I have to get them to leave.

  “Stop speaking in French if you don’t want your little girlfriend’s brains splattered all over the glass you fucked her against.”

  Goddammit, I needed to kill these bastards. And I would, one way or another. In this life or the next. My teeth ached to tear into them. My hands already steamed with phantom blood—their blood. I fucking hated to think of Tess seeing this—especially after everything I’d done to save her.

  Stumbling upright, I glowered at the man holding my woman. “Leave her alone.”

  There was no denying I deserved this. After all, I’d put more traffickers down while searching for Tess than the worldwide Interpol had in three years, but it didn’t mean I was prepared to pay their price.

  What did they expect?

  Money? My life? Torture?

  If I knew their end goal, I might be better prepared. I’d know which weapon to use. The only positive thing was they’d come for me. Not her.

  The man planted a kiss against Tess’s cheek. She jerked away, only to careen back into his arms as he yanked her back. My spine stiffened, every urge inside saying attack. Fucking attack.

  The muzzle of another gun bruised the base of my skull. “You’re no longer in the position of control, Mercer.”

  My heart cannonballed but I kept my face blank. “Let’s sort this out here and now. You want cash—fine. Take it.”

  He laughed, dragging the gun through my hair till he held it in the middle of my forehead. “We don’t want your fucking money. We want something more than that.”

  Tess sobbed, fighting her captor. “Leave him alone!”

  Tearing my eyes from her, I steeled myself. “And what is that?”

  “Your fucking life of course. You’ve been costly to a lot of associates. Your debts are being called. Time to meet the unemployment line.”

  Tess screamed, going nuts. She managed to get free, only to slam into another man’s arms. Her face was white, fear taking her limbs hostage in a jittery dance.

  Fucking hell. My heart clawed its way out of my chest to go to her. To tell her it would all be okay. At least they hadn’t killed me in front of her. If they meant to take my life, I wanted it as far away from Tess as possible. I didn’t want her to see that. I didn’t want to haunt her for the rest of her days.

  “Fine! Let’s go.” Shoving the asshole away, I strode toward the door—cursing the burn in my leg, doing my best not to limp like a dog about to be put down.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” the man yelled.

  Stopping, I crossed my arms. Hoping my cocky nonchalant attitude would piss them off. I was still in fucking control. As much as they thought otherwise. “You want me. Fine. I’ll come with you. But not here. Not like this. You leave her alone, and I won’t fight. You can have your fucking vengeance.”

  Tess screamed, “No! Q—don’t. You can’t! Don’t leave me.”

  My heart hurt worse than the bullet in my leg. Walking away from her would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t put her through anymore. I wouldn’t ruin her mind any more than I already had. I’d done what I needed. She would be okay. In time.

  Franco shouted in a ream of French, but I tuned them out. I didn’t need to hear their pleas—this was the only way. Three lives instead of one.

  It was a good trade.

  My eyes locked with hers. My lungs stopped working at the horror pinching her face. “Pardonne-moi, Tess. Sache que je t'aime jusqu'à la fin des temps et je te retrouverai si ce n’est pas dans cette vie ce sera dans la prochaine.” Forgive me, Tess. Know that I love you till the end of time, and I’ll find you again, if not in this life, then in the next.

  Tess’s eyes dried from tears, burning with terrible anger. Her face flushed as she shoved the man away. “Non! Je ne te laisse pas partir. Pas maintenant. Pas après tout!” No! I won’t let you go. Not now. Not after everything!

  I wondered if she knew she spoke in French. She was so fierce, her tongue lilting over the language as if she was born to it.

  The leader seemed lost for words but the moment I tore my eyes from Tess and opened the door, he leapt into action. Stalking toward me, he pointed at the unconscious man I’d attacked, ordering his troops, “Pick him up. We’re leaving.”

  I paused for one last moment before I was shoved out the door—carted away from any happiness I might’ve found.

  Please let me see her again.

  Tess stood frozen on a sea of white carpet looking part-angel, part-goddess, totally lost and heartbroken.

  She shook her head, disbelief bright. “Q—please!”

  My heart stayed behind with her—I didn’t need it where I was going.

  Au revoir. Goodbye.

  The door swung closed.

  I might have given in to protect Tess, but I wouldn’t die for nothing.

  I would take as many down with me as possible.

  I would die with their blood on my tongue.

  Intertwined, tangled, knotted forever, our souls will always be twisted together,

  our demons, our monsters belong to the other,

  Bow to me, I bow to thee, now we are free

  It couldn’t be real.

  It can’t.

  I didn’t believe it.

  I don’t!

  The instant the door clicked, blocking me from Q, I felt adrift. Broken. Missing the matching piece of my soul.

  I couldn’t handle the amputation of something so fundamental. I couldn’t think straight—my mind kept me frozen, replaying the gunshot, the beating, the never ending sentence of horror: Your fucking life of course.

  They meant to kill him. He left so I wouldn’t see. He left to protect me. Always protecting me regardless of his own safety.

  Rage.

  I’d never felt such a complex mix
of rage and absolute helplessness. I should run after them! Go!

  I gripped my hair, tugging it hard. My heart thundered, shooting agony through my chest. All instincts said to find a weapon and go. But I had to think clearly.

  They’re going to kill him!

  There was nothing clear about that.

  Go! I couldn’t not go after them. Even though I was utterly useless—an emotional wreck at the upheaval of my close-to-perfect life. Fate had once again took everything—reminding me I was penniless even though Q made me so wealthy.

  I couldn’t stand by and let the toll strip me bare. I wouldn’t let Q sacrifice himself. I was going after them. Balling my hands, I ran toward the door.

  “Tess. Wait!”

  My head whipped around, eyes locking onto a bloody man struggling to his feet.

  Franco! Holy hell, I’d completely forgotten about him. Slamming to a halt, I wavered between the door and helping the one man who might be able to save me. He’d been with Q when they hunted for me. He’d have resources, knowledge.

  I refused to look away from the door—the horrible door blocking me from the love of my life as he was marched away with a bullet in his thigh.

  Another lacerating pain flashed through my stomach at the thought of anything happening to him. It couldn’t. Not to Q. I wouldn’t let it.

  He can’t die! Not now.

  Then help Franco. He’s your only hope.

  Anger heated my body at the realization of my own mortality. I could chase after the men, try to be heroic and leap on their backs and cry and scream…but ultimately all I’d achieve was Q being shot sooner and me joining him.

  “Come help me up,” Franco ordered. “Whatever’s going through your head—stop it. It’s not as bad as you think.” His deep voice slapped me out of my disbelieving haze, dragging me back to earth.

  Clutching my dress, I whirled around. “Not as bad as I think? Not as bad!” I stalked toward him. “They took him, Franco. They stole him from my arms and shot him.” My eyes burned but no tears fell. I wanted to scream until my throat bled. I wanted to kill every single last one of those bastards who’d taken what I couldn’t live without.

  I can’t do this.

  You must.

  Everything Q had done for me—to make me whole again—teetered close to cracking. My tower that I’d smashed after Tenerife shivered with its broken bricks, trying to rise from its ashes to claim me.