"I agree." Placing a hand on mine, he murmured, "Just don't forget you're human, too."
I ignored the hidden messages. I didn't pay attention to the hint that I shouldn't throw myself completely into my murderous rage. I didn't care if I lost myself. There was no one waiting for me to return this time.
A man in black military wear broke away from the milling shadows of Q's entourage. Coming toward us, he moved with stealthy confidence. His hands were free but two guns rested on his hips; multiple knives hung across his chest in a scabbard. Pulling the black beanie further over his blond hair, he said, "Ready when you are, sir."
Another man, taller with a rifle slung over his shoulder, appeared with a stick. Passing it to Franco, he grinned wryly. "Never provided a walking cane to go into a rampage but I think you need some help getting about."
I wanted to throw up. Jokes! They were making jokes?
How can they? Tears sprang up my spine, clawing their way painfully through my coldheartedness. I didn't want them. I didn't want caustic healing in the form of tears. Empty. Stay empty.
Franco bared his teeth. "Get that piece of shit away from me. I'm doped up to my eyeballs with painkillers. I can run while I don't feel it."
The man tossed the stick to the verge. "Your funeral."
The image of Franco dead cleaved my wounded heart. No, I wouldn't let anyone else die. I was done losing people I cared for.
"You're not coming," I whispered. A whisper was the only decibel I dared converse at. Everything inside boiled like a pressure cooker, building and building, steaming and steaming until my anger frothed and overflowed. The next time I spoke loudly, I would explode.
And I would murder the man who'd killed Q. I would be cataclysmic.
Franco shook his head. "I'm coming. The moment we find Mercer, I'll crash, but until we have him, I'm not stopping." Pointing at the two men, he ordered, "Blair, you're to go in first with five men. Do the preliminary sweep, clear any threats. Peter, you're in charge of Beta squad, head in two minutes after Alpha. Round up any slaves, staff, non-immediate threats to be sorted later." His eyes fell on me. "I'll bring up the rear with Vincent and Tess."
"Roger." The two men, one black-haired, and one blond, nudged knuckles before fading back to their teams to relay the orders.
He's trying to protect me.
Too bad. I wanted to be on the frontline. I wanted risk and danger. I wanted something to hurl this rage onto.
My heart fizzled with anger. "I'm not going in last."
Franco frowned. "You are. You'll still have your revenge, Tess. But this is the safest way. You're the owner of everything Q built. Don't ruin his legacy by killing yourself."
The way he ruined me by dying?
I gritted my teeth, cuddling my gun as if it was my only lifeline. "You can't stop the inevitable," I mumbled so only the wind heard me.
Franco froze. "What did you just say?"
The inevitable will happen-I'm going to find him-where he's waiting for me.
"Nothing."
The first team, all dressed in identical black gear, armed with every arsenal available, darted out behind the hedges, heading toward the large driveway.
No! Wait.
I wouldn't hang back like a helpless woman. I deserved to mow down the killers of my lover. It was my right.
Out of everything Q had done to smash my tower-it was his death that finally released me from the rubble. The bricks, always teasing with erecting, had magically disappeared. My mind was a wasteland-completely grey and barren. I was exposed to every emotion and I only felt one.
"Esclave, don't do this. Remember everything I did."
Q's beautiful face consumed me-his strength, his smile.
But then he morphed and changed.
His vibrant eyes covered with a filmy white.
His tattoo hung off him in tatters.
Oxygen turned to reeking dust. My hollow heart rapidly filled with grief. It oozed through me, stealing my anger every second I stood doing nothing.
Not yet.
I refused to break down.
Not yet.
The last man disappeared; I couldn't stand still any longer. I took a step toward the driveway.
Franco imprisoned my elbow. "No. You're going in with me. Three, four minutes, Tess. Patience."
Three or four minutes. That was an eternity. Time had stolen Q from me. Only minutes from our arrival, and the heartless bitch decided it was too many minutes too long. In another few minutes I might be useless with sorrow.
I obeyed time no longer.
My legs itched. My lungs gulped air. I prepared for battle.
Run.
Run. Run!
I took off.