I didn’t bother answering as the lift soared upward. I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out the gun.
Frederick eyed me warily, but then followed suit. Franco pulled two guns from his holster beneath his jacket. We nodded at each other then stared at the doors, waiting for the moment when they would open.
The three clicks of safeties being taken off helped mollify me for a moment.
Not long. Hold on, Tess.
The gentle ping of arrival sent every muscle in my body vibrating with tension. I was coiled, armed, and fucking ready to create some carnage.
The doors glided open. We crouched and moved forward.
“I expected you twenty-four hours ago, Mercer. You’re losing your touch.” Gerald chuckled the moment we stepped into the lounge.
I froze, battling back the urge to let loose the entire round of bullets into him.
The penthouse was five hundred square feet of pure decadence. Not only had I designed the hotel suite’s floor plan, but hired an interior designer who knew the value of great lighting, subtle wall tones, and elaborate wallpaper.
It was a perfect palace, sullied by the fucking gutter rat who lived there.
Gerald sat in a large weathered chair, nursing a goblet of liquor. His prosthetic leg cocked to the side awkwardly from a former gunshot, courtesy of a disgruntled business associate.
His pink scalp and wispy blond hair didn’t do anything to help his gob for a face, or the nasty scars on his cheeks. His nose was red and large, identifying him as a drunkard, and his large gut strained in the ridiculous paisley shirt. It made him look watery eyed and almost ready for the grave, but regardless of his sickly appearance, his control over his empire was legendary.
“Where the fuck is she?” I snarled.
His son appeared. My heart thudded with thick hatred and I wanted to shoot him all over again. He wore an exact replica of the jumpsuit he’d worn when he hurt Tess, only this one was a horrifying yellow. His gold-capped teeth looked garish when he smiled and waved a wooden cane in my direction in a salute.
“I never got a chance to thank you for the goodbye gift, cocksucker. Your dog over there dragged me out before I could repay the favour.” He pointed at Franco. “You’ll pay for kicking me when I was fuckin’ shot. Only way you could get one over me. If my leg hadn’t been gushin’ blood, I would’ve had you dead in a moment.”
Franco snorted. “Didn’t sound so tough when you fucking pissed yourself after I slapped you.” He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “How about I slap you again and you can cry to Daddy?”
I swallowed hard, tasting the threat, the underlying violence in the room.
The man launched forward, and I didn’t give Franco a chance to deliver his promise. He deserved more than a fucking slap. My fist collided with his jaw, cracking in the silent room. The throb started in my knuckles and radiated up my arm, but for the first time in days, I felt like things were finally going my way.
“Come near us again and I’ll not only cripple you like your old man, I’ll redecorate your insides.”
“Enough!” Gerald demanded, throwing the goblet at my head.
I ducked, encroaching on his space. “Tell me where she is. Je ne le redemanderais pas.” I won’t ask again.
Gerald laughed, his big gut jiggling with every guffaw. “Why the hell would I know?” His eyes went from mirthful to hate-filled in a second. His entire body settled heavier in the chair as he glared at me from beneath his overhanging brow. “You shot my only son for sampling the present we gave you. Not exactly hospitable behaviour.”
My jaw ached I clenched so hard, but I didn’t move; I didn’t speak. I let him get on with his little fucking speech. The sooner he finished, the sooner I could get my hands on Tess.
“I had planned on using her myself—after all, the great fucking Q Mercer kept her as a pet, there must be something special about her cunt to warrant such a prize.”
I flinched and gripped the gun harder, imagining it was his fat-riddled neck I wrung.
“However, a better deal came along than fucking your sloppy seconds.”
My legs spasmed, dying to rush the bastard and slash the knife into his throat. My voice echoed with hatred. “Stop wasting my time.” I aimed the gun at his crotch. “Where is she, Dubolazov?”
Gerald laughed and wheezed, before answering. “That, my pussy-whipped friend, is no longer your concern. I like keeping secrets. Consider this my notice that I will no longer do business with you.” He looked at his oaf of a son, huddled by the wall, nursing his bruised face. “After all, I can’t deal with a man who severely injured my own, can I?”
Something slithered over me. Something cold and sinister and normally I would fight. I would stop the shutting down of my emotions and the remainder of humanity receding like a wakeless tide, but I didn’t. I let the conversion happen, and the gun grew heavy in my hands.
Did he honestly think I wouldn’t kill him if he had nothing to offer me?
Dubolazov seemed to track my line of thought as he swallowed, a trace of fear ringing his eyes. “You can’t kill me. It would be business suicide. You so much as look at myself or my son again and I’ll crucify you.”
I shrugged. I honestly didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Tess and giving her the best life I could.
Shuffling sounded behind me and Franco yelled, “Stay right fucking there. Just having a conversation, boys. No need to get your cocks out.”
I looked over my shoulder at the three guards who’d arrived, all waving guns, trying to decide who to train their sights on. Deciding I was the greatest threat, they pointed the muzzles in my direction, even as Franco and Frederick trained theirs on them.
Raising an eyebrow, I held up my gun, letting it dangle from my finger. “All good. Just finishing up our little chat, then we’ll go.”
No one moved as I placed the gun on a side table and inched forward.
Gerald glared, but didn’t order the men to kill me.
I stopped within grabbing distance and gave him a thin smile. “So, you mean to take your secret to your grave, Dubolazov?”
One chance.
One last chance to give me Tess’s location. Then I’d grant mercy. I would walk away. I would cage the demon inside me and not fucking maim him.
He leaned forward, sending a whiff of vodka into my face. “I’ll never tell a fucking prick like you. You pretend to be one of us, but you free merchandise. Slaves we’ve dedicated time to break, women who, by right, belong to us until their godforsaken little pussies wear out. Fuck you, Mercer. We’re done here.” He lowered his voice to a hiss. “I hope she’s dead already.”
The switch inside sprung permanently free, and I moved.
Time slowed as I reached for the knife in my trousers. I existed in slow motion as the blade came free, my arm swung forward, and the obstruction of gristle and windpipe gave way under the sharp metal.
The thrill, the rush, the heady fucking pleasure rippled through me and I smiled. I fucking smiled as I watched Gerald blink in shock, wondering what the hell happened.
I moved so fast, it took a moment for blood to well and cascade down his throat.
“No!” Gerald’s son threw himself off the wall, colliding with me.
Gunshots rang out and something hot nicked my arm. Franco called out, and Frederick yelled. Gerald’s son punched me in the ribs, but his meaty hands were no match for my blade.
I stabbed him deep in the kidney and twisted.
I waited for horror, for self-hatred of loving the hot splash of blood and the dying gurgle of my victim, but for once I was free.
The rush and fire and righteousness doused my veins; I shuddered with black delight.
Murder.
It was fast becoming a new hobby of mine.
I stood, pushing the convulsing body off me, drenched in hot blood. I honoured Tess’s wish to bring down the bastards involved with trafficking.
I killed a father and son.
&nbs
p; I killed…
And the beast inside fucking loved it.
The memory of taking my father’s life filled my nostrils. The stench of his bowels loosening, the sharp tang of blood and brain. It all mixed in some sort of morbid perfume, resonating with the feral part of me, making me proud to be a killer of evil.
Slowly sensation came back into my body. My arm burned. Twisting my neck, I fingered the hole in my blazer, poking the slippery wound beneath. Fucking fantastic.
I’d been shot.
Frederick appeared, reaching for my jacket. “Oh, shit. How bad is it?” He ripped off my jacket before I had a chance to push him away.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” The bullet had gone right through my bicep. Fairly clean and tidy considering. It didn’t even hurt.
I looked toward the entrance where a mound of corpses lay. Puddles of blood dotted the white tiles.
Franco met my eyes. “Five dead. Four shots and one stabbing.” He motioned for us to leave. “We have to go. Who knows how many more guards are on their way.”
I shook my head, feeling strangely lightheaded. “We’re not leaving until we search the place.” Scooping up the gun and clenching my jaw against the sudden flash of pain in my arm, I took off in direction of the bedrooms. “Fan out. Meet back in here in ten minutes.”
Picking up my pace, I jogged quickly down the long expanse of corridor, trying to ignore the chills of eerie silence and mound of bodies behind us.
Gerald normally only had three to five guards in his private residence. He said they cramped his style when I asked a few years back why he didn’t surround himself in security. We were alone. For now. I just hoped we’d stay alone for a bit longer.
Keeping my finger tight on the trigger, I swept room after room. Strode through decadent parlours and bedrooms fit for a prim aristocrat, not a raping, murdering mobster.
But I only found emptiness. No women. No Tess.
I opened cupboards, searched under beds, even smashed a few floorboards to see if a secret room had been added since the original blueprints. But nowhere did I find a bound and frightened woman. No evidence of a struggle. No trace of Tess at all.
After a full circuit of the apartment, I met Franco and Frederick by the elevator. “Anything?” Three pairs of eyes were better than one. Especially seeing as I’d been fucking shot. Please let them have found something.
Frederick hung his head. “Nothing.” He sighed, adding, “But it doesn’t mean she isn’t in the building.”
I had a better idea. Pulling out my phone, I entered the same website that tracked Tess the first time and waited for the little red dot to appear on the map.
Nothing.
Heart racing, I tapped the device against my thigh. “Viendra sur, toi merde.” Come on, you piece of shit.
I looked again, wishing, praying for the little red dot to show me where Tess was. It was the only connection I had to her. It had to work. It had to.
Franco looked over my shoulder as the screen flashed and came up with an error message. The tracking device you have requested is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.
“Fuck!” I threw the phone across the room, trembling with rage. My eyes fell to the bodies, and I wanted nothing more than to stab and stab and stab, take out retribution and funnel my rage.
Frederick put his hand on my uninjured arm. “We’ll find her, man. Don’t worry. With or without a beacon.”
Franco nodded. “He’s right. We’ll find her, sir. We’ll just have to mow down some bastards to do it.”
Tie me, tease me, let your pleasure please me. Hurt me, love me, but please don’t ever leave me…
My employment began immediately.
Trapped in a world of drugs and insipid fog, White Man plucked me from my bed and threw me at Leather Jacket.
I cried out as I collided with his creaky leather and stench. I cringed as he smirked, holding me tight against him. “Hello again, puta. Time for some fun.” He spun me around, trapping my wrists.
His dirty fingers wrapped around my skin, hoisting my arm back till my shoulder bellowed. Even the foggy stupor couldn’t save me from the pain of a dislocated limb.
“What the—” he muttered.
“Let her go, Ignacio. I need her to be able to use her arms.”
“But look at what the little bitch did. Stupid slave.” He ran a thumb over my modified barcode, no doubt seeing the sparrow and the number fifty-eight. He chuckled and shook me, breathing hard against my ear. “You idiot bitch. You fell for the bastard who bought you.” His chuckle morphed into a laugh, shaking both our frames. “This is too good. I’ve heard of slaves becoming attached to their masters, but you went to a whole other level.”
He grabbed my chin, digging his fingers into the hollow of my cheeks. “You were like a fucking queen in that bathtub, thinking you’d landed on your pretty little feet. Well, live it up, princess, ’cause you’re in servitude now.”
His head cocked to the side, and he kissed my cheek with dry lips. “Then again, if you fell in love with one asshole, you can fall for another. Maybe you’ll want to fuck me before the week is out. Huh?”
I flinched as he stroked my hair, then sighed in relief as White Man pulled me from Leather Jacket’s embrace. “You’ll have plenty of time to mind-fuck the poor creature. But first I want to see just how strong she is.”
He held out his hand as if he’d asked me out on a date; blue eyes twinkled as I gawked at his palm. I couldn’t remember what I should do. I couldn’t remember anything. The alchemy of chemicals in my bloodstream slowly stole everything I knew.
“Come along, little one. No time like the present to start your initiation.”
I tried to step back toward the pallet. I ordered my limbs to move, to run, but nothing obeyed. I just stood there swaying until White Man grabbed my elbow and guided me from the room.
His perfectly ironed clothing contrasted against the sinister grime as we made our way down a long musty corridor. I wanted to scream and punch him in the eyes, but all I could do was coast along like a good belonging. The fog imprisoned my mind—turning me into the worst sort of captive—the one who obeyed without duress, who didn’t even need shackles to keep her down.
They’d taken my will, and soon, they’d take my mind.
White Man spoke to Leather Jacket as we stopped outside a door and pushed me inside. “Don’t go too far, Ignacio. Remember…little is key. They become more pliant that way.”
I stumbled like a brain-dead zombie, screaming silently for my body to do anything but fumble. Everything was so heavy and soupy and unresponsive.
Please. This is your last chance! Obey!
I managed to twitch enough to inch backward, shuffling toward the exit.
But all it took was a hand between my shoulder blades and I was pushed forward.
I blinked, looking around. Concrete walls, concrete floor with dampness climbing the corners and puddles resting in cracks. Three chairs, white and sun-worn, faced each other in a circle.
White Man guided me by the shoulders to sit in one of the chairs. It creaked under my weight and my head flopped onto my chin. So tired. So confused.
I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m cold. I just want to go home. Where am I?
He patted my cheek, saying, “Have fun, little girl. Happy initiation.”
I wanted to hurl myself out the door; my heart bled as he clapped his hands and looked behind me. “Great. The others are here. You’ll no longer be alone, little one. I’ll see you later.”
He slipped out the door and the lock clicked into place behind two girls who’d entered on a leash, tugged by Jagged Scar. He gave me a snide smile before jerking the girls forward and pushing them into a chair.
I couldn’t comprehend what I saw.
Both girls were naked. Both trembled and shook as if an earthquake had replaced their hearts. Their eyes were full of horror and terror, but it was their hair that terrified me.
&n
bsp; Blonde. Both of them. The same honey straw as my own.
Oh, God.
I wriggled in the chair to stand, but the chemicals blocked the signal from my brain and I sprawled to the floor instead. My cheek pressed against slimy concrete and I groaned as a flash of pain spread through me.
Leather Jacket laughed, coming to my rescue. Grabbing a chunk of my hair, he hauled me upright and threw me onto the chair. “Clumsy bitch.”
My eyes smarted from the agony of his grip, but I swallowed back the heaviness of tears. I was foggy enough without adding grief to the mix.
The girls sniffed, trying hard to stay silent even as tears tracked their dirty faces. I refused to look at them. I hated seeing the shadows of bruises on their arms and ribs. Why were they here?
They’re here for lunch. We’re going to have lunch, and then we’re going to have a nap and dream of whimsical things.
I shook my head, snapping out of the druggie daydream.
Leather Jacket gave a sadistic smile, bending to lick me. Once again, he dragged his foul tongue up my cheek and into my hair. “Trying to figure it out, aren’t ya? You won’t be able to. Not with the mixture in your blood. You’re going to do as I say, when I say. Got it?”
A small flash of my normal self wrenched itself from the dirty puddle that was now my soul. I forced past the weakness, whispering, “You’re a fucking cocksucker and I’ll ch—chop off your balls before you die.”
He laughed and clicked his fingers. “Is that a fact?”
A guard I didn’t know appeared next to me. He looked like a sack of potatoes. Big gut, lumpy clothing, and a face only an ogre could love. He smiled, wriggling his fingers in my face. “Hello.”
I must be pleasant. Be polite. How many times did my parents tell me they could only love a polite, quiet child?
“Hello,” I repeated, wishing my head wasn’t so heavy so I could keep eye contact longer.
Leather Jacket moved forward, heading behind the two girls in front of me. He rested a hand on both their shoulders and they whimpered.
Don’t. Don’t touch them. I shook my head. Why can’t he touch them again?