Quintessentially Q

Once he deemed the coast clear, Franco said, “Care to share?”

No, I didn’t care to share as that would be a waste of f**king time.

Instead of answering, I strode right to the bar and jumped on top. Men nursing their beers looked up with their mouths hanging open, their hands guarding their precious alcohol.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” the barkeep asked.

I threw a hundred euro bill at him. “Turn the music down.”

The barkeep grumbled, but shoved the bill into his dirty apron and reached down behind the counter to mute the volume. In the sudden silence people stopped mid-sentence. All eyes trained on me, and I waited until complete silence reigned.

The moment I had everyone’s attention, I said clearly, “I will pay anyone who has knowledge of a band of men who kidnapped women in the downtown area four months ago. They targeted women from a café and may have had other operations around town.”

My hands curled and I willed myself to continue in a calm voice. “I’ll pay thirty thousand euros to anyone who can give me a name. Totally anonymous. I don’t need to know anything about you. Provide information, and the money is yours.”

Giving incentive, I pulled out a couple hundred euros from my blazer pocket and fanned it out in my hand. “In gratitude for your attention, your dinners and drinks are on me.”

Franco appeared by my feet, looking up with tense awareness. His eyes scanned the room while his hand hovered over his chest holster, ready to pull his gun free in a second. “Time to get down. You’re a sitting duck up there.”

I nodded, saying to the crowd, “I’m sitting at the back. Come find me if you have a name.” I jumped off the bar.

Franco’s eyes bugged out of his head. “What the hell. You were a perfect target up there. Anyone could’ve popped you.”

I brushed my suit and handed the money to the barkeep, whose eyes lit up like a f**king firework. “That’s for everyone’s tabs for tonight, understand?”

He nodded. I doubted he would be trustworthy, but I really didn’t care.

“Someone will squeal, Franco. They always do when money is involved.”

“What if they just kill you expecting to find more than thirty G in your pockets?”

I smirked, brushing past him to go and sit down. “That’s what you’re here for. To keep me alive to do stupid shit like this.”

He huffed and the music increased to deafening decibels yet again.

I moved back to my seat and settled in for my prey to come to me.

*****

Six hours later, the barkeep tried to kick us out.

No one ventured near our table, and there were only so many beers we could drink before our concentration faltered.

We paid off the barman to stay overnight. I didn’t want to move. In my mind, the nugget of information I needed was on the way to me, heralded by the allure of thirty thousand euros. I visualized the news being spread from mouth to mouth, making its way through ghettos and impressive neighbourhoods, passed cousin to cousin. Eventually someone would know. Eventually someone would come to me.

I refused to think otherwise.

By the time morning peeked through the filthy windows, my ass was flat from sitting and my back screamed bloody murder. But a new day had arrived.

The day I found Tess. The day I brought hell on earth to the men who thought they could steal what was mine.

Instead of being desolate and incompetent, I felt eager and on track. This is right. For the first time in days, I was one step closer to finding Tess and putting this entire hellish nightmare behind us.

*****

At ten in the morning, the kitchen staff arrived to prepare for the lunch crowd. By eleven, the doors opened and some early punters trickled in for some pub grub.

Considering I hadn’t slept a wink in over fifty hours, I revved with pent-up energy. My eyes never left the door, and every person that stepped through sent my heart racing.

This was it.

It would work.

Any second.

Any second turned into another f**king hour, and my heart went from racing to thick with fury. It had to work. It was the last chance.

What the hell would I do? Go home and live my life like Tess never existed? Pretend she hadn’t made me a better person or taught me how to be happy?

My mind turned inwards at what my future would mean. I would never go back. Never return home without Tess by my side. I would leave Q Mercer behind and—

“Shit, Q,” Frederick mumbled, his eyes glued behind me. “It f**king worked. I don’t believe it.”

I spun and came face to face with a dirty child who I guessed was about ten or eleven. The little girl had matted dreadlocks down to her waist, and her skin might’ve been clear and innocent but was covered in mud and a nasty scar on one cheek.

I didn’t know how she snuck in without me noticing, but I instantly knew. This was the girl who would lead me to Tess.

My hands twitched to grab and shake her, to demand to know what she knew. But I curled my fingers and kept them out of sight under the table.

It took every conceivable control in my body to smile gently and lean to her level. My voice was gruff and unused, but I kept my tone even. “Bonjour. Did you come to see me?”

She looked toward Franco, who brooded menace, and Frederick, who had a soft smile on his lips. All three of us hadn’t shaved in days, and our eyes were red rimmed and far too intense with grief and anxiety.

Poor kid would be petrified, but I didn’t have time to soothe her.

“We won’t hurt you. Tell us what you know, and I’ll make sure you and your family are looked after for a very long time.”

She bit her lip, shuffling with bare toes on the sticky beer-covered floor. “I know who you want. My mama used to clean over at the warehouse, before they moved, and I used to sneak in for food when the guards weren’t looking.”

My stomach twisted into knots. A warehouse. How many f**king girls did they sell? I wanted to ask so many questions; I wanted to save every single woman.

I swallowed hard, pushing the questions from my head. Only one question mattered here. The rest I could come back for. Tess was mine. She needed me and I would be there for her before the day was out.

“The man scares me, but he gave me candy if I let my mama work in peace and I sat in the corner. But he touched other girls my age. He tried to touch me once, but my mama stopped him.”

Her big black eyes met mine, so innocent, but not naïve. She knew what she was doing by telling me this man’s name. She knew he wasn’t fit to live. Even in her young heart, she smelled the vileness.

“Tell me his name.” I leaned forward, unable to restrain my urgency anymore. It radiated from my pores, bunching my muscles. “Tell me, and I’ll make sure you never have to see him again.”

She dropped her eyes and gulped. Seconds ticked by while she shifted on the spot. Finally, her eyes flickered round the bar and she shuffled closer. Putting her little hand around my ear, her lips brushed my flesh as she whispered, “His name is Smith and he isn’t in the city anymore.”

Smith?

Fucking Smith? The most common name in the entire world. How many dead-ends must I run into?

Rage and satisfaction were two equal counterparts. I had the bastard’s name, but I was no closer to finding him. “That’s very good, ma chèrie.” I smiled, bristling with tension. “Do you know where he lives now?”

She shook her dreadlocked head, mumbling, “I know where he works though.”

I tried so f**king hard to keep my patience, nodding slowly. “Fantastic. Can you tell me? I’ll pay you extra so your mum never has to work again.”

Her eyes popped wide, and once again she cupped my ear. “I heard my mama say he moved to a place called Rio. But I don’t know where that is.”

Rio.

Mother f**king Rio.

Tess was in Brazil.

I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the child and squeezed her before passing her off to Franco. “Pay the girl and make sure you take her wherever she wants. Buy a house, I don’t care, just repay her.”

The girl squealed as Franco hoisted her into his arms and strode out the bar, heading toward bright sunlight.

At last the sun wasn’t mocking me. It wasn’t saying life would go on without the woman of my dreams; now it was telling me to go on the final hunt. The final battle to free her.

Striding out the door with Frederick at my heels, I muttered, “You should leave, Roux. You don’t have to be a part of this.”

I planned on having copious amounts of blood on my hands tonight. I would dance in hell for what I would do to motherfucker Smith.

Frederick muttered, “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see you tear this bastard limb from f**king limb.”

My soul burned with the urge to kill. No ounce of humanity existed—tonight it was all about death.

I’m coming for you, you bastard.

And I’d make damn sure he’d f**king cry before I was through.

Chapter 12

Save me, enslave me, you will never cave me.

Taunt me, flaunt me, kill what haunts me…

Two days? A week? A month? A Year?