Normally my cock would harden. It would twitch and swell at the memory of hurting her, but nothing. Nothing because the strong woman who made me so fucking hot for her just by answering back was gone. She’d been replaced with someone incapable of receiving any more violence.
I lost the fighter and been given a broken fucking bird and I honestly didn’t know what that meant for me.
The beast inside mourned heavily—dug a pit to curl up in because he would never be free again.
Yes, I’d rehabilitated hundreds of women, paid for their healing, coaxed them back to life—but I never stood by their bedside and nursed. It wasn’t in me to tend to something so weak. Sickness and frailty were things I couldn’t be around, and yet, I couldn’t leave Tess to heal on her own. I would be with her every step of the way.
But by seeing her so weak, my lust would die, my need to hurt her would shrivel. I would distance myself to protect her all because she could no longer handle what I needed.
I have Tess back, but it’s not enough.
The doctor stood, snapping his bloody gloves off, giving me a sad smile. “She’ll survive. Now that she’s warm and in a healthy environment her body will heal.”
He gathered his things and headed for the door. “I’ll come back and check on her in a few hours.”
I never took my eyes off Tess. “You forgot one thing.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking at his unconscious patient. “What?”
I pointed at her neck. “Cut it out.”
His wide eyes met mine. “Excuse me?”
He probably thought I’d gone mad. I sure sounded like it.
“She has a tracker in her neck. That’s how they found her. I want it out. This fucking instant.”
“In order to do that, I’ll have to make an incision. I’m not sure we should, given the state of her body.”
I shook my head. “You’re not listening to me. Now, doctor. I won’t ask again.” I let some of my anger show. I was ready to order him at gunpoint if that’s what it took. I’d already lost her once to fucking stupidity. I wouldn’t do it again.
He gulped. “Fine. But I want you out of here.”
“Not going to happen.” Giving him a consolation prize, I headed to the far end of the room and sat in a wingback. “I’ll sit right here and won’t say a word, but I’m not leaving her.”
The man sighed, heading back to the bed. “You sure don’t make a happy working environment.” He reached for his bag of tricks and placed a green medical cloth on the mattress by Tess’s neck before laying a sterilised packaged scalpel on top.
Snapping on fresh gloves and opening the scalpel, the doctor brushed Tess’s hair away, ready to begin.
She never moved, deep in sleep, and it took an eternity for the doctor to drag the sharp blade down Tess’s neck.
I gripped the armrests until one of the leather studs popped and material tore from its seams.
Blood.
Her blood.
My mouth watered to taste, then a wave of nausea filled me. You’re a sick fuck. You’ll never taste her blood again because you’ll make it your life work to keep her safe from any more pain.
I would protect Tess from me. I would care for her, tend to her, but never love her the way I needed. Never again would I hurt her.
The thin trickle of red as the doctor inserted a pair of tweezers into her neck sent me reeling back to the warehouse.
“Stop!”
“Never,” I growled, digging my blade deeper. The knife sank through his ribs and I sawed through cartilage, sweating with effort. I cleaved him open inch by inch; he screamed louder with every slice.
I cut a hole in his motherfucking chest and licked my lips the moment he died.
The feel of his hot wet cavity as I pulled out his heart, rebirthed me to something monstrous. His heart grew cold while resting on my palm.
My first and only thought had been: I have to give this to Tess.
“What do you want me to do with it?” the doctor asked, clanking the tiny tracker into a surgical tray, shattering my daydream.
Shooting to my feet, I rushed toward him and grabbed the tray. Tipping it upside down, I let the life-ruining device land in my open palm. Streaks of warm blood stained my clean hands.
The doctor curled his lip in distaste, but didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t wait another moment. Striding to the door, I found Franco in the corridor. The poor man looked fucking beat. Eyes hollow, face gaunt, and a wiry edge that would petrify anyone if they’d known what he’d done to the rapist last night.
I’d seen the remains. I’d stepped over dismembered fingers, toes, and cock while holding a bleeding heart in my hands. We were a nasty pair of work, but through killing together we’d been granted a kind of peace that we wouldn’t get if the pervert was sentenced to jail. We gave them fair justice. We ended it.
“Is she doing okay?” he asked, looking at my clenched hand.
“Yeah, the doctor is stitching her up now. I need you to stay with her till I get back. “Vous, ça va?” You good? I couldn’t remember the last time any of us slept. It wouldn’t be much longer till we all crashed and burned.
“No. I got it.” He passed me, slapping my shoulder. “Pleasure working with you, Mercer.”
“Likewise.” I gave him a tight smile and headed down the stairs.
I managed to keep my calm all the way through the house. I managed to smile at a few of the girls we’d rescued from Rio as Suzette and Mrs. Sucre arranged temporary staff to make sure they all had rooms and whatever they needed.
I kept walking at a normal pace right out the front door and away from the house, but the moment I was away from view, I ran.
I fucking bolted across the grounds, heading toward one of the many outbuildings at the back of the property. Birds flew, squawking in indignation, and the freshly mowed grass filled my nose with freshness.
Skidding to a stop outside one of the many converted barns where my father’s priceless cars rested, I punched in the pin on the keypad and entered the hushed world of mechanics.
I hated these cars and never used them. I didn’t want to sell them either, as in my mind locking them up in a garage was a way of sticking it to my father one more time. Plus when I got angry, I liked to take my rage out on the pristine panelling and immaculate upholstery.
I beelined for the back of the garage, toward the overstocked toolroom where any builder would’ve come in his pants with the top-of-the-line gadgets.
Bending, I placed the blood-smeared tracker on the concrete floor and paced toward the rack where all the hammers hung. I selected the baddest, heaviest sledge hammer from the rack and turned to face the electronic nightmare on the ground.
Howling, I swung with all the rage trapped inside and brought the wrath of the hammer on top of it.
It smashed into a billion teeny tiny fragments. It turned from small to microscopic dust, but I didn’t trust its evilness was truly dead.
I hit it again and again and again. I swung until my back ached and sweat poured under my shirt.
All I could see was Tess tied to the bed in Rio. Her sweaty, sickly skin. Her protruding bones and dilated pupils. Her agony was caused by this shitty piece of technology.
Vous avez tout pris de moi! You took everything from me!
I hit and hit. Growling, straining, cursing.
It wasn’t until I had a crater the size of a bowling ball in the concrete when I finally conceded it was no longer operational.
Breathing hard, I dropped the hammer and let it rest where it landed. The last two and a half weeks caught up with me in a rush and I stumbled against the wall. My head swam with tiredness; my bones screamed for a bed.
You can rest. Tess is safe.
I fucking thought she was safe last time, and she wasn’t.
You’ve hit that wall. You have to rest.
I let my body crumple to the floor and bent over my folded knees.
For the first time in
my life, I let weakness consume me and I grieved. Grieved for what I lost when Tess was taken. Grieved for myself for what was stolen.
Because one thing was for sure.
Tess had changed.
And I feared I’d never get her back.
Tied to a rack or down on my knees, it’s you my master I long to please. Own me, take me, you can never break me…
The first thing I did was scream.
Sleep left me, dumping me into a world of severe pain. My finger, my ribs, my…neck. It was too much. Too much!
Then the bugs scurried from their hiding place, taking refuge in my skin, chewing me from the inside out. Maggots wiggled in my hair, termites bored through my legs.
I screamed as if my soul wanted to escape. I screamed as every single hellish thing I’d lived through crushed me with the force of a logging truck.
Unsurvivable guilt suffocated me, latching around my brain and heart, squeezing me to hell. Those girls. What I did. I couldn’t live with myself.
“Shoot her, slut.”
“Beat her harder. Harder!”
“I’m gonna fuck you next, cunt. Oh yeah, I’m gonna split you in half.”
“See, Tess. No one wants you anymore. Die already.”
“I’m always here for you, Tessie. Don’t give up.”
“You ruined everyone’s lives, Tess. You deserve to die for your crimes.”
“You’re strong, precious, but that’s her blood under your fingernails.”
I couldn’t breathe. I can’t breathe!
“Get out. Get out. Get out!” I bolted upright, then immediately fell back down again. My ribs stabbed me and I saw stars, tripping into faintness. Wet coughs grabbed my lungs, drowning me even as guilt pushed me further into madness.
Drugs. I needed drugs. I needed something to dull this murdering emotional agony. I needed the smog to take me far, far away so my mind didn’t crack.
“I want to die. I deserve to die. I hurt them. All those birds. I did it. I did what they asked. Give me something. Anything!”
Hard pressure landed on my shoulders; my eyes wrenched open.
“Shit, Tess. Calm down.” Q’s tortured gaze met mine. Seeing him only sent me spiralling into more madness.
He’d found me. Just like I knew he would. But now I could never be worthy. I killed. I hurt women instead of saving them. I was the exact opposite of Q and he’d kill me if he ever found out.
I hyperventilated, panting hard. “Don’t. Please. I didn’t mean to. I know you can’t forgive me. But don’t kill me. Don’t.”
The bugs chomped harder at my flesh, tearing another scream from my lungs. “You need to beg if you want something to stop the craving, little girl.” White Man appeared and I knew what I had to do.
I grabbed at Q, fumbling with eager hands, so desperate for the calm fog. I’d do anything. Be anyone. Beg. Steal. Lie. Kill.
Oh, God. I’d kill again if I could escape this madness.
“Give me what I need. Please!”
Q cursed, hoisting me into a sitting position with his strong arms. The liquid in my lungs drained from horizontal to vertical, making my cough even worse.
He clutched my shoulders. “Don’t panic. Tess. Stop. You’re safe. You’re safe with me, mon amour.” My love.
He lied. I’d never be safe. Never be free from the haunting of my villainy. Don’t look at me. Don’t see the horrors I’ve committed.
“Tess. Goddammit, esclave.” He shook me, his fingers digging deep into my shoulders. His touch wriggled with beetles, nipping at me, devouring me alive.
If the guilt doesn’t kill me the bugs will.
“Stop it. Relax. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Q captured my chin, holding me still and every single abhorrent thing I’d done smothered me, sending me into a free-fall.
I pulled the trigger.
I swung the baseball bat.
I scratched.
I tortured.
I inflicted never ending agony on those girls.
My heart destroyed itself with every memory, unable to withstand the pain. White Man entered my thoughts. “What did I tell you about pain? Run from it like a good little slave. Do anything in your power to avoid it. Be good. Obedient. Otherwise I’ll make it twenty times worse for you.” He threw away the pliers he held and brandished a welding torch, holding it near my body.
I wanted to curl up and die. I waited for the burn, the melting of my skin. I deserved to be set on fire—burned like a witch. I was a witch. Cursed and riddled with evil.
“Do it. Kill me! I don’t deserve to live.”
“Tess, fuck, you’re killing me. Come back to me. Stop this now!” Q’s voice changed from pleading to a roar.
I trembled. I’d never been so close to death. I felt as if I was one step away from my grave. All I had to do was let the guilt consume me and then I’d be blessedly free. Tarantulas crept over me with their furry legs and I gave up. I relinquished my sanity.
Q may have found me, but I lost my mind to what I’d done. No amount of help or cure could save me.
I let go of my straining grip on life and fell. Falling, falling, surrendering to death.
But something happened.
A wall sprang up from nowhere. Soaring into being, faster and faster. Brick by brick, mortar by mortar, a huge impenetrable barrier sprang up between me and the horrible memories. Me and what I’d become. Me and Q.
I fell deep into the heart of this newly made tower. It was lonely. It was dark. It echoed with sounds of chains and irons—being fortified with barbwire—completely impassable.
The second the noise stopped and the tower was fully erected all I felt was heavenly release. Nothing could touch me. No guilt. No pain. No memories of what I’d done.
I was free.
Opening my eyes, I stared deep into Q’s gaze, trying to figure out what just happened. He searched mine, his face hard and tired and so, so handsome.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
His hand on my face was so familiar, but his touch was never gentle. He’d caused me pain and misery. And my tower did not permit such things.
The rest of my soul withdrew to huddle deep in the structure, sucking every last emotion, every single thing that I’d ever felt deep inside.
A void grew wide, creating a moat between the outside world and my heavily armoured mind. The guilt was gone. The pain and memories hidden. But so had everything else.
I waited for the feeling of home. The love I once felt for Q, or even fear. But there was nothing but a large cavernous hole. Everything that made me me, had disappeared deep inside my bombproof barricade.
The moat filled with creepy crawlies as the steady itch of needing something came back. My mind might be safe, but my body was being eaten alive by insects.
Q sighed, stroking my cheek. His pale eyes never stilled—swirling with so many emotions. “You’re safe. I won’t ever let anything happen to you again.”
The promise reeked of guilt. It was a promise he’d made before and a promise he broke. My emotions were no longer accessible—hidden behind this thick barrier, and I sat there feeling nothing.
Nothing.
My trust in him was broken. My belief that he would always be there for me—my monster in the dark— was gone.
But although I knew it should rip my heart out, I only felt empty, cold, forgotten.
I wanted to ignore the coolness I felt toward him. I wanted the blankness and wall to disappear. I wanted to remember. But if I did, I’d die from the weight of guilt. I’d perish from everything I’d done.
Focusing inward, I rattled the door of this newly formed tower, looking for a way out. But there was no exit. No key to get free. Whatever my mind had done to protect me, it had shut down everything else.
My heart was boarded up and unfeeling. The same heart that tumbled with lunacy and need for Q. The same organ that ballooned with madness for this man who beat me, fucked me, wanted me.
Now it deflated, a s
hrivelled raison-like thing, hanging useless in my chest.
Q ran his hand down my cheek, avoiding the fresh bandage on my neck. His fingertips whispered down my arm before capturing my hand. He flinched when I curled my fingers, avoiding his touch.
I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want any sort of contact. I didn’t need it. All I needed was to be left alone. Alone forever in my unfeeling tower.
Pain etched his eyes as he swallowed hard. His five o’clock shadow was scruffier than normal, his hair unkept and longer. He kept his eyes trained on my hand before leaning forward, bringing the shadow of his body over mine. His arm tucked under my shoulder blades, gathering me in a crushing embrace.
I squirmed as claustrophobia clawed, then stiffened as I forced myself to allow him comfort. I may not want this, but he did. And I wasn’t such a shallow bitch to deny him.
Somehow, I’d gone from Tess who cared to a blank replica and I had no desire to go back. I wouldn’t survive the past.
Q squeezed me harder, hurting my ribs, flaring my bruises. I didn’t move away, but I didn’t move to console him either. His large body pressed hard against mine and all I could focus on was the vacuum my soul was in. The vacancy deep inside. No longer did I suffer.
You deserve to be in pain. I had no right to forget what I did. Pain was my life-long affliction.
Pain.
“Pain is bad, little girl. Run from pain.” White Man blazed into my mind, stealing me from Q’s arms and the safety of his home and dumping me back into the rank dungeon.
The vacuum suddenly reversed and spewed every splinter of pain into me. The trauma of the drugs, the nightmare of doing their bidding—all came back with hammers, impaling me with stakes.
“No. I can’t take it!”
My throat seized, my lungs drowned with liquid, and I went nuts. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t go through it again. I wanted my tower. I wanted to go back to the void and never feel such agony again.
The bugs roared and multiplied, scurrying over me, their pinchers and claws dragging me back to hell. I struggled to run, but something held me tight. Held me firm for the bugs to find me.
“You took my life. You’re just like them.” Blonde Hummingbird floated before my eyes with a bloody bullet hole in her forehead. “You did what they asked. Why? Why did I have to die?”
Quintessentially Q Page 24
