Four lines of blood sprang and still nothing. Tess just lay there, breathing normally, looking so remote.
“Tess, doesn’t do this to me!” I reached for her again—to do what, I didn’t know. Hit her, hug her, spank her, caress her—anything would be better than nothing.
Arms bounded around me, hauling me back.
Frederick muttered in my ear, “She said no, Mercer. There’s nothing you can do.”
I struggled, fuck I struggled, but Frederick was strong. His arm tightened, muscles digging into my collarbone as he dragged me further from Tess.
The last image I saw was Tess sitting cross-legged on the bed with her long blonde hair drifting around her and her lifeless grey-blue eyes watching me go.
There was nothing else to say.
It was done.
Over.
Finished.
Every single door in my mind, every wall and barrier I’d ever created, slammed back into being. I compartmentalized my needs and humanity, removed myself from the equation. I shut down so efficiently, so coldly, I was left wondering if I was a psychopath.
Tess was gone.
Frederick loosened his hold on me. “I’m sorry, man.”
I didn’t say a word as I stalked away.
Away from the slave I fell for.
Away from my very existence.
Tie me, tease me, let your pleasure please me. Hurt me, love me, but please don’t leave me...
The moment the door shut behind Q, I started to shake.
I used the safe-word.
A word that shattered Q and ruined the final connection between us. I never thought I’d have to use it, but when he kissed me, pouring all the love and need he had for me, I couldn’t function. I couldn’t be the cause of such agony.
Nausea sat thick and heavy in my stomach. I wished I could take it back. I wanted to run after him and promise I’d figure out a way to come back. Offer him the chance to beat it out of me, to submit completely into his control, but the longer I sat there, the more leaden I became.
The guilt and ghosts and pain roiled like a storm-whipped sea. Smashing against the walls of my tower, trying to drown me and take me straight to hell.
“Think of me. Think of me dead and rotting in the ground.” Blonde Hummingbird broke my fortress, ripping my heart into pieces. “You put a bullet in my brain. You’re the reason I have so many broken bones.”
The guilt opened its eager jaws, sucking me deep.
Gritting my teeth, I fought back. I trembled as I added yet another layer of bricks to my tower. “I’m sorry. I can’t!”
A memory swamped me. Something I’d suppressed—something I didn’t want to see.
“Go on. Do it.”
I no longer had the strength to even mentally disobey. Shuffling forward, I dragged the knife down the blonde girl’s arm.
“Cut it off. Call it stocktake and we no longer need that merchandise.”
The girl trembled, shaking her head, her lips working the thick rag in her mouth. The straps around her body kept her still while I grabbed her wrist and circled the barcode tattoo with the blade tip.
The drugs confused me. Why was I cutting off this tattoo? It must be important—but maybe I should cut off my own, too?
“Do it, puta. Or I’ll just chop off her arm.”
I pressed the tip of the knife around the outline of the tattoo, letting the sharp metal slice a border even as red blood rained.
The girl thrashed and cried and I flickered in and out of drug-consciousness.
“Nice cutting. Now peel it off.” Leather Jacket appeared by my shoulder, inspecting my handiwork.
I nodded and grabbed the flesh to pull—
The stomach-churning vision fractured as I fell off the bed. Crying out, I retched and hastily reached for the bowl on the floor. My stomach emptied and my skin dewed with clammy sweat.
The sound of the door opening and closing didn’t interest me as another wave of sickness rose.
The 1920s man from the night I hung in the sparrow room gently gathered my hair, waiting for me to finish retching. Once I was fairly sure I had nothing left, he took the bowl to the bathroom before coming back to help me into bed.
Once I rested under the sheets, he stood and smiled sadly. “Do you remember me?”
I nodded. “You stopped me from spinning out of control when Q strung me up for a dinner meeting.” For once I didn’t shudder at the thought of the Russian asshole and his knife hilt. I would never know Q’s reasoning behind that.
“I did. I’m also Q’s work associate and closest friend.” He pointed at the end of the bed, raising an eyebrow. “May I?”
I shrugged. “Sure.” It wasn’t often I had gentlemen sitting in their immaculate suits on the end of my bed at almost three in the morning.
“My name is Frederick, and I’ve known Quincy since boarding school. He’s never fully come out and told me his life history, but I’ve put enough together to know he finds life in general incredibly hard. Even he doesn’t fully understand why he is the way he is, and yet you accepted him completely. For the first time in his life, he met a woman who not only loved him for the man, but for his darkness, too.”
He looked away as if too emotional to continue. “I must admit, I never thought Q would find what he needed. I envisioned him working himself into an early grave. Building an empire, dedicating his life to a cause that he believed was his redemption, and never finding what all humans want to find.”
I didn’t speak—just let Frederick take the stage.
“When you were taken, Q turned his back on everything he fought so hard for. He threw his company’s reputation down the gutter, he walked away from the profile he’d created for himself. He even dismissed the human part of himself that he’s always fought to protect.”
His aquamarine eyes flashed in the darkness. “He searched everywhere for you, Tess. He killed countless men—most in barbaric, coldblooded ways, all in the name of your honour. He travelled thousands of miles, paid hundreds of men for information. He went to hell to bring you back from it, and now that you’re safe, he has nothing.”
Something hard lodged in my throat.
“If you truly don’t think there’s hope, then leave. Get as far away from Q as possible, because you’ll only kill him faster by staying.” He turned to face me with an angry glint in his eyes. “But if you think there might be some small chance—some miniscule hope that you can work through what they did to you—then stay. You owe him that.”
Frederick stood, brushing his suit with perfect hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a wife who loves me, and I really need to go and tell her how much I care. Seeing such a perfect thing ruined between two people fucking hurts.”
Without another word, he strode to the door and let himself out.
The rest of the night didn’t equal sleep. I stared into the darkness, fighting a war deep inside, trying so hard to find the true me.
Frederick was right. I owed Q so much. I’d been selfish. I could be strong enough to face my guilty crimes. I needed to focus on saving the man I used to love—still loved.
I tried everything. Forcing myself to remember what I did, reliving all those horrible moments, even recalling the original kidnapping in Mexico, and the rape before Q found me. I put myself through every bad memory. I broke my heart with childhood memories of my parents abandoning me.
“We’re taking you to the zoo today. Behave and be a good girl.” My mother ducked to look me sternly in the eye.
I couldn’t control my six-year-old excitement. I’d never been taken anywhere nice. Apparently I wasn’t worth the admission, whatever that was. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
Only when we got to the zoo, my mother didn’t go in with me. She waited until I’d gone through the barrier, then drove off.
I hated the zoo. Every wild animal seemed to sense my unhappiness; the monkeys laughed at me; the lions growled, tasting my fear. I spent the night huddled in the corner
by the rubbish bins. No one noticed a six-year-old after hours and no mother came to pick her up.
Eventually, the cleaners found me, and much to my mother’s dismay, I was sent home.
I forced myself to think of how nasty my brother had been.
“Is this scummy toy yours?” He held up my headless teddy bear. The one I found outside a Salvation Army one day.
“Give it back.” I jumped for it, but he’d always been so tall. He laughed, tore the legs off, and scooped out the stuffing before throwing it all over me.
I hardened my heart, knowing I would never find love with these people.
And yet, I found love with Q. I found an all-encompassing connection that made my childhood seem so ridiculous.
Q muttered, “Tu ne peux pas être à moi, mais je suis en train de devenir à toi.”
My stomach twisted, filling with frothy bubbles. Our eyes locked and I couldn’t look away. Q brushed his lips against mine ever so sweetly, repeating in English, forcing me to swallow the words. “You may not be mine, but I’m fast becoming yours.”
Time froze.
His confession tied me up, stole my mind. His drunken state let me see the depth of his feelings. Time began anew, sparkling with new possibilities. My body was no longer mine, it belonged to Q. Everything belonged to Q.
How could I ever forget that I would always belong to Q?
Scrunching my face, I battered and screamed at my heavily garrisoned tower. I wanted the guilt. I wanted the nausea—for tears to spill—because it would show I was still alive in there…somewhere.
I no longer wanted to live in a void.
But no matter how I picked at old wounds, nothing worked. I’d added too many bricks, slammed closed too many locks.
I’d lost everything and I couldn’t even grieve.
By the time the sun warmed the room and a new day sparkled, I’d exhausted myself into a worse empty silence than before. I could stab myself in the heart and I wouldn’t feel it. I could break every bone in my body and I wouldn’t care.
I was truly dead inside.
Frederick was right. I couldn’t do this to Q anymore.
After showering and dressing in a pair of jeans and baby pink blouse from the carousel room, I made my way downstairs with just my passport in my pocket. I had no idea how I’d get back to Australia. I had no money—save for the cash Q gave me. I had no plan, and I didn’t care if a hitchhike turned into what happened before. Maybe some rapists would finish the job, so I could finally rest and not be so terribly cold.
Suzette stood in the foyer as I descended the stairs. Her arms crossed over her chest, a look full of sadness and disbelief on her face. “Q told us you were leaving. That Franco and I weren’t to stop you. Please don’t do this, Tess. Give it some time. We can wait. We can help you find your way back.”
I shook my head. “That isn’t fair on Q. I have nothing left and he deserves everything. It’s not fair to stay and give him hope.” I gave her a sad smile. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”
Without another word, I opened the front door and stepped outside. The world seemed so normal. Summer turned to autumn, and the beautiful trees in Q’s gardens started the journey from green to red to gold before dropping completely.
I felt like a dried-up leaf whose only purpose was to fall to the ground and rot.
Waiting on the stoop, I tried once more, one last and final time to find some part of me alive and unwilling to go, but the numbness was my only answer.
By protecting myself, I doomed myself. I may not die from guilt, but I would never live with love or happiness again.
My first step off Q’s porch should’ve buckled my knees and torn my heart free from my chest, but it didn’t.
I’d never feel again.
Once onto the gravel, I skirted the horse fountain, heading down the long driveway. Trees loomed above, blotting out the early morning sun. I kept walking until I hit the road.
Left.
Right.
Which way to go? Should I go back to Australia? Why? There was nothing left for me there. I had no desire to go anywhere, only to leave this wondrous life that could’ve been.
To let Q heal without me. To let him forget and move on.
I stepped off Q’s driveway.
You’re my obsession, I’m your possession, you own the deepest part of me…
I didn’t know where I went after I left Tess. I spent the rest of the night staring at some hideous vase, feeling nothing.
The alcohol left my system hours ago, and Frederick—the traitorous bastard—let himself out a little while after I left Tess.
He spoke to her. I knew he did, and if I was honest, it fucking pissed me off and made me want to kill him. But Tess had chosen. She used the safe-word, for fuck’s sake.
She couldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.
I was done.
The sun slowly rose on a new day—a day where I would have to pretend that nothing had happened. I would go back to work and bury myself under paperwork. Someone had to deal with the rumours going around about me. Dubois—the chief of police—had been true to his word and banned all bad press about Moineau Holdings, but that wouldn’t last forever.
Franco had already prevented one attack on my home from disgruntled traffickers. The strange thing was my shares in other companies—the untainted by slaves or sinful underworld investments—had grown. Turned out people liked to invest with a company that had morals and a CEO who had a saviour complex.
Tess did me a favour—she reminded me I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t expect to have what others took for granted. I’d never earn the love of a woman or be stupidly happy like the rest of the human race. But I had other things to live for. I would save more slaves than ever before; I would make sure others could have a happy ending instead.
That would be my legacy.
Merde, maybe I should close the business and go on a never-ending hunting spree. Then, I might be happy.
Suzette appeared in the reading nook in the lounge where I’d hidden for the past few hours. “She just left, master.” She looked out the window, no doubt seeing Tess heading down the driveway. “I did what you told me and just let her go, but Franco isn’t happy. He’s got the car ready to go if you want to go after her.”
A sharp dagger twisted my heart, but I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay seated.
I wouldn’t chase after her. I wouldn’t. Not after the safe-word.
When I didn’t move, Suzette left me to my mourning and another hour went past. Every time I wondered where Tess was I shot the thought right between its eyes. I refused to think about her. I denied the ache in my cock, the pining beast inside.
I repeated over and over that I didn’t need her. I didn’t need someone who didn’t need me.
I don’t fucking need her.
A car screeched to a halt outside, kicking gravel against the windowpane. I sat up from my slouch to see Frederick charging from his Lexus and bolting for the front door. He exploded through the foyer and into the lounge. His eyes fell on me. Tearing around the furniture, he raced forward and planted his motherfucking fist in my jaw.
“You’re a dumb son of a bitch. In fact, you’re as stupid as she is.” Frederick hit me again, but this time I was ready for him. I ducked and swung, connecting with his ribcage.
He sucked in a breath, yelling, “I told you if you wanted to keep her you’d have to do something drastic.” He hit me again; it landed on my right shoulder.
Heat flashed through my veins and I snarled. “I did do something drastic. I hit her and demanded she come back to me—all while you fucking watched—and then she used the safe-word!” I grabbed the hideous vase I’d been staring at all night and hurled it across the room. It connected with another glass full of flowers, and they thundered to the floor in a chaos of breaking china. “What more can I do? I swore I’d stop if she ever used it.”
Frederick poked my chest with a finger. “Yo
u can pull your head out of your ass for one.” He roundhoused me, the fucker, and his foot connected with my ear. I went down, landing on one knee on the carpet.
I glared, shooting upright to deliver a thick set of knuckles to his jaw.
I forgot why we fought and laid into him. It wasn’t the first time we’d beaten each other to shit, and it wouldn’t be the last. Being evenly matched meant Frederick delivered as good as he got.
I landed a few fists to his upper body, while he managed to cuff me around the head, making me see stars. We huffed and groaned, circling each other like two testosterone-fuelled idiots.
Each punch he delivered gave me something I missed. It gave me a reason to get up and kick his fucking lights out. But I didn’t.
Even though I lived to be violent, I kept myself tamed. I didn’t let myself go killer. I would never kill someone I cared about. And even though Frederick drove me crazy, I cared enough to keep him alive.
We were both breathing hard by the time Frederick did another one of his annoying karate moves and landed me on my ass. He stood over me, offering his hand.
The peace offering broke the tension and I clasped his grip, allowing him to drag me to my feet.
I licked the interior of my lip, pleasantly surprised to find I had a cut. “You’re getting vicious in your old age, Roux,” I mumbled, running a finger along the slice.
He huffed, dragging his hands through his out of place hair. “You deserved it. That was for Tess. For slapping her and being an asshole. You won’t get her back by forcing her further into herself.”
“But that’s what she always reacts to! She craves pain. She craves what I crave. She’s the mirror image of me, Roux, and I miss her so fucking much.” Shit, where the hell did that come from?
I glowered, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
Frederick nodded, a light slowly building in his eyes. “You said she craves what you crave.” He cocked his head, pacing a few steps before spinning to face me. “Have you ever let her hit you? Whip you?”
I grabbed a drinking glass from the sideboard and threw it at his head.