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.
But I wouldn't let it. Not this time. This time I wouldn't be a victim. This time I would win.
Franco manoeuvred his body, hobbling to a knee. A rush of guilt swarmed at not helping him, but I stood concreted to the carpet. So many things inside. So many conflicting, terrible responses as my body and mind battled with what to do.
I'd never felt this way. This lost, angry, terrified kind of way. As a victim, the choice to fight was stripped the moment I was captured. But as the one left behind I had choices, decisions-hope.
But then fear struck, crushing that hope. What if I made the wrong decision? What if I trusted Franco to help but the window of time to get Q back was already gone? I played roulette with Q's life depending on the decision I made.
Action.
I needed to do something.
But being a statue was all I seemed capable of as scenarios rushed through my head, all ending in horrific ways.
Chasing after Q to find a bullet lodged in his forehead in the lobby.
Not chasing after Q to find they'd sent a ransom note and it would be a simple matter of an exchange.
Chasing after Q only to watch him be tortured-all because of me.
They took him because of me.
"Oh, my God." Why hadn't I seen it? I was so stupid. I'd done this. I'd ruined his life. Destroyed it. Demolished it. A sob began, building in girth and volume until I knew I'd explode into pieces if I let it go.
Arms wrapped around me, jerking me close to a metallic smelling shirt and tense broken body. Franco pressed me hard against him, giving me a rock to cling to while my misery threatened to drown me.
"It's because of me. It's my fault!"
"Of course it's your fault."
My eyes popped wide. He agreed! I couldn't do it. I curled over, nursing the ball of agony in my heart, wishing to die.
Franco gathered me closer. "It's your fault he's happy. It's your fault he's finally accepting his past and looking forward to a future he no longer has to hide from." He winced as his body wobbled. "This would've happened with or without you, Tess. You've only seen a smidgen of men involved in this industry. But Q knows thousands. He's personally ate with them, done deals with them. He was welcomed into a world where admission is for life and any misbehaving means death. Yes, hunting for you so recklessly sped up the realization of who Q really was, but it would've happened. Eventually."
He pulled away, looking into my gritty eyes. "And when it happened, he wouldn't be where he is today. He wouldn't fight as hard as he will now because he has love giving him power." His emerald eyes softened. "If they'd come for him, and you weren't in his life he would've fought-of course, but ultimately, he would've given in. Because in some fucked-up way he believes he deserves it."