My fingers plucked at the stitches. Some lucky pre-med student got a free flight in a G650 to patch me up on our way out of Moscow. We’d managed to get out before word had spread, but I had no doubt a bounty hung around my neck from more than one trafficking bastard now.
Sitting at some desk, in some office, in some city, in some country, I hung my head and wrapped my fingers around my skull. I squeezed, digging harder and harder, inflicting pain, inviting a migraine. I wanted to crack open my brain and stop all the emotional pain.
Some moments I couldn’t breathe with the thought of what was happening to Tess. I wanted to suffocate all thoughts of her from my head until I no longer had to endure such agony.
But on the heels of such self-pity and loneliness, came furious anger. Livid hot temper that she left me. I hated that she made me care. I cursed her for the way she turned me into this tangled, twisted creature and then disappeared.
Six days passed.
Then a week and a half.
Twenty-four hour blocks all stacked on top of one another creating an unmovable mountain, barricading me from ever finding the one person I ever cared for. Time obstructed me from finding my f**king other half.
I would live alone. I would die alone. I would exist in the netherworld all f**king alone because Tess had been stolen and I was too worthless to save her.
Fuck. Where the hell are you, Tess?
“We just had a tip-off. We’re flying to Singapore in an hour,” Frederick said from the doorway.
I looked up, still clutching my head.
I couldn’t even remember what country we were in. We’d been everywhere. Russia, Spain, Saudi Arabia, Thailand. Following whispers of rumours. Hints that someone knew someone who knew where Tess had been taken.
It’d been a f**king rabbit chase. All lies. All of them hiding the truth.
The truth would be found only by finding the source. Not bribing underworld contacts, or threatening to turn their precious names into local authorities. I had power, but it didn’t mean shit when no one knew a thing.
Goddammit. You’re a f**king imbecile, Mercer! The truth can only be found at the source! Why didn’t I see it?
It was as if someone wrenched back the curtains, inviting piercing sun to chase away the gloom of a disused room.
I stood up so fast the chair fell back and clattered against the tiles. I remembered now. This office belonged to Lee Choi. A man I’d built two casinos for in Macau in return for four slaves. Hong Kong was sleek and money-shiny, but beneath the surface—just like every cosmopolitan city—lurked the dangerously sick and twisted world.
Lee Choi no longer ran that world.
Lee now rotted in a foetus position stuffed in his closet.
“I don’t care about a tip,” I snarled. “I know where we need to go.”
Frederick frowned, coming closer. “Q, when was the last time you slept? You need to eat. You’re gaunt. You can’t live on revenge and bullet casings.”
The urge to hit him rose, but I swallowed it back. “No more leads. They’re useless.”
He shook his head. “One of Choi’s underlings gave up a name of a man who has a harem in Singapore. He might know where Tess is.”
I rubbed my face, trying not to snap. “It’s a waste of time. He won’t have Tess. We need to go to the source.”
“The source?”
I moved fast, pushing past Frederick. No one in the usual circle would’ve bought Tess. Gerald wouldn’t have sold her to be used so…kindly. He was out for blood. Where was the payback if she was sent to a sick fuck, but someone who would ultimately keep her alive? No, he’d send her to someone who would ruin her. Break her. Someone who would stand to earn just rewards for destroying her.
Fuck. Why didn’t I think of it before?
It felt right. My gut knew I was on the right path.
“Pack up. We’re flying to Mexico.”
*****
Four days.
Four long f**king days we’d patrolled the sin-stained world of Mexico. Hunting drug dealers and spineless thieves, we lurked in dives and sniffed around illegal enterprises. No matter how many men Franco tortured, or how many palms I greased, no information was forthcoming.
No one knew who kidnapped a blonde girl on a scooter four months ago.
“Eat this, boss.” Franco skidded a plate of noodles under my nose, obscuring the map of the slums of Mexico I’d been studying for the past three hours.
Tess could be anywhere in this filthy city, and I might walk right past whatever building she was imprisoned in and never know.
As much as I was starving, the thought of eating, of surviving, when Tess might not even be alive, ate at my soul.
I ignored him, shoving the plate away.
Franco clasped my shoulder as Frederick came over from the bar with three mugs of icy beer. “You need your strength. For her. Your brain will work better with fuel.”
Frederick sloshed the beer onto my map, taking a seat.
I glowered, swiping my hand over the paper before the liquid could ruin it.
Frederick nodded. “I agree. Eat and recharge. You’re no good to her if you’re passed out from hunger.”
The animal inside didn’t need such petty things like nutrition. It only needed blood. But you’re not a f**king superhuman, so eat up.
Sighing hard, I tried to return to the land of men and sat taller. Acknowledging they had a point, I dug into the noodles and forced myself to swallow. I was a world traveller. I’d lived in cities around the globe, but the man I was at heart was French, and I missed Mrs. Sucre’s duck and homemade baguettes. I missed simple perfection. I missed my regimented life. I missed Tess with every f**king part of me.
Half-way through my meal, I gave up and growled, “There has to be some other way.”
I slouched, scowling at the droplets of condensation on the beer mug. Frederick mumbled something around his mouthful of food and Franco cocked an eyebrow. “Like what? We’ve tried bribing men we know in the sex trade, we’ve tried beating it out of others. We’ve argued, we’ve threatened, we’ve pleased. Either no one knows who took her, or they’re too terrified to say.”
I rubbed my chin, letting my brain race for clues, answers, conclusions that might work better than our current methods.
“All Mexicans are linked somehow. I read that the city is one of the friendliest on earth,” Frederick said, wiping his mouth and swigging some beer.
Yeah, apart from the raping trafficking bastards.
“It’s said that it’s a matter of pride to have the largest family possible. I’m talking cousins upon cousins upon cousins. You need to go for a—”
“Cousin.” I bolted upright, smiling for the first time in fourteen days at Frederick. “T’es un putain de génie.” You’re a f**king genius.
Franco stood, glancing around the crowded, dirty bar, making sure my abrupt standing didn’t attract unwanted attention. My muscles were rock-hard at the thought of a bar fight. I craved to use my fists, to pull out the knife and lose myself in anger.
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?