Oh, fucking God, the room did not know how to behave. Where the hell are my legs? The whiskey stormed inside, looking for a way out, but I swallowed hard, managing to stay upright.
Fredrick dragged me toward the steps and shoved me up them.
I grabbed the handrail, trying to stop him from pushing me where I didn’t want to go. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything. You are.” His shoulder ploughed into my back, shoving me upward until I stumbled through the door and into the lobby. The rest of the house was asleep; after all, it was two in the morning.
He brushed his hands as if congratulating himself on a job well done. “Go on.” He waved at the stairs. “Go fix it.”
I shook my head, ignoring his stupid demands. “What the hell are you doing here this late anyway? Go home to your pretty, perfect little wife.” I didn’t mean to sound jealous. Angelique was a pretty, perfect little wife, but I made it sound like that was a bad thing.
Frederick gave me a hard look. “I won’t punch you for that as you’re drunk. If you really want to know, I’m here because Suzette called to let me know you freed all your birds. She was concerned you might’ve finally snapped.” He sighed, waggling a finger in my face. “She was worried, and I think she did the right thing, so don’t reprimand her.”
“Damn fucking meddling maid,” I muttered under my breath.
“That damn maid may turn out to be your saving grace if you get the balls to fix whatever has gone wrong with you and Tess.”
I spun, swinging wide, fully intending to deck him. If I couldn’t hit Tess anymore, a surrogate was in order. “It isn’t fucking fixable. I’ve tried.”
Frederick ducked and punched me, hard, right in the gut where all that sweet, pain-stealing alcohol lived. “Before you ask, that was for being a douche. Second, it was to try and knock some sense into you. You haven’t tried. You’ve been treating Tess with kiddie gloves. Is that why she fell in love with you?”
Rubbing my stomach, I swayed. I needed to rethink letting this man run my company. He asked the dumbest questions. “Huh?”
“Did Tess fall in love with you because you’re kind and sweet and even-tempered?” He snorted, a grin spreading his lips.
“Bien sûr que non.” Of course not. Even I laughed at that idiotic suggestion. Those three words had never been used to describe me, not even on my best of days.
“Did she fall in love with you because you’re a dark son of a bitch who has to hit her and draw blood to be connected?”
“Merde, when you put it that way, I sound like a fucking sicko with a vampire complex.” The alcohol switched from sweet to sour, and I no longer liked the thought of being drunk.
“You are. I totally agree. But you’re also a man who is head over heels for a woman that wants that side of you. You told me she wanted to be your slave. She came back for you, Mercer. No woman would put herself through that unless she could see the goodness in you.”
That just reminded me I let her get taken in the first place. It’s all my fau—
Frederick slapped me. It was such a girly move, I laughed. “Resorting to a bit of palm action, Roux?”
He chuckled. “Just stopping that train of thought. I’ve seen it in your eyes way too often the past few weeks. It isn’t your fault. Sure, your life is full of dangerous men, but you’re dangerous enough to keep her safe. It was just bad luck. That’s all.”
“It wasn’t fucking bad luck. We were both idiots about the tracker. I thought she’d removed it!”
Frederick nodded. “I agree. You’re both to blame. What does that tell you?”
Anger.
Sheer, undiluted anger filtered through my veins, burning up the alcohol, making me see clearly for the first time in weeks. “Tess is to blame, too.”
Frederick took a step backward, a smile tugging his lips. “Go on…”
My eyes rose to the staircase above us, already seeing Tess curled up in bed thinking she was safe. But she wasn’t safe. Not from me.
“She fucked up just as much as me. She needs to apologise. She needs to thank me for all the blood on my hands. She needs to give me back what’s mine.”
“And that is?” Frederick goaded.
“Her fucking heart.”
My legs moved on their own accord. Grabbing the banister, I hurled myself up the steps, two at a time.
I couldn’t move fast enough.
Frederick followed close behind. I wanted to tell him to get lost, but I had no time. I’d wasted enough time as it was. I’d have an audience but I was past caring.
This conversation should’ve happened days ago. Tess owed me. Goddammit, she owed me so fucking much and she just cut me off. I was done being cut off.
The door slammed open as I heaved it with my shoulder. Tess shot upright in bed. She winced, holding her side, her bandaged finger resting on the sheet.
I licked my lips, searching her eyes for the one thing I needed to see. Fear. She should’ve been terrified at my entry, but her eyes were colourless in the gloom. Nothing glowed, no terror or panic. She looked as if she’d fallen asleep at a fucking church service.
“Tess,” I growled, charging for the bed.
She let me come. She didn’t move away or try to hide under the covers. She cocked her head. “I didn’t think you’d be sleeping with me. Not after what I said.”
She wore the same white T-shirt of mine to bed, and all I could think about was her undressing before I strapped her to the cross—it felt like a century ago. We’d been happy then. I’d been tormented and scared, but happy as Tess promised she’d never leave.
I pinched my brow, trying to get my thoughts under control. “I’m not coming to bed, esclave. You and I need to talk.”
She eyed me but nodded. “Okay.”
Goddammit, where was the fire? The argument that she didn’t want to talk because I woke her in the dead of night. I needed to see tenacity and boldness. Nothing shone on her face, no ounce of emotion.
I squeezed my eyes, trying to understand what the fuck I was doing here.
“Q…”
Her soft voice wrapped around my heart and I struck.
I didn’t mean to. I didn’t give my hand permission to strike her cheek. It just happened. The force of her power over me made the monster fucking crazy. Denied for so long, it’d done what I was terrified of happening all along. It took away my control—made me hit her.
The soft sting in my palm and the resonating noise of connecting with Tess’s cheek was pure heaven. I’d missed it for far too long. I opened my eyes, looking at the red handprint on her skin. My cock instantly hardened.
The first fucking erection I’d had since I found Tess so ruined and weak.
Her eyes popped wide as she touched her cheek with gentle fingertips.
I waited, licking my lips—waiting for her crystal tears that tasted so sweet, but her eyes remained dry. No salt, no amazement, or accusation.
“I know you’re trying to get an emotion out of me, Q. But…it won’t work.” She broke eye contact. “I’ve tried. I hate what I’m doing to you. I loved you and can’t stand to be the reason for your pain, but they made me—” She swallowed. “My thoughts aren’t safe anymore. I can’t be myself because everything is wrapped up in such evil.” She looked up. “I’m truly sorry but you have to let me go.”
The alcohol rolled in my stomach and I lost it completely. I’m not proud of what I became. I never wanted to be so out of control, but I lost all elements of the man and showed her just how much the beast fucking wanted her.
I ripped the sheets off and shoved her into the middle of the bed. The T-shirt rode up, showing her flat belly, and I had to bite her. Had to mar that slightly bruised flesh.
With a snarl, I buried my mouth against her stomach. She flinched as I bit hard. I didn’t break the skin, but only because some miracle intervened.
I spread my entire weight over her, smothering her into the mattress. Eyes to eyes, mouth
to mouth, hips to hips.
I thrust hard against her, groaning at how good my hard cock felt. It’d been too long. Way too long since I’d had this woman…since I’d wanted this woman. “Feel that, Tess. That’s for you. I want you. So. Fucking. Much. Please come back to me. You will come back to me.” I smashed my mouth against hers. Her taste intoxicated me more than any alcohol.
I forced her lips open, demanding she tongue me back. She opened, letting me kiss her, but she didn’t return my affection. It was like kissing a corpse.
Please. Fucking please, come back to me.
Slowing down, I kissed her with all the unhappiness and loss inside. Showing just how much I needed the strong fiery woman who didn’t take my shit but let me hurt her anyway.
I needed her so much.
I poured my heart into her…
Nothing.
My gut twisted and I pulled away, looking deep into her eyes. There were no words to describe the vacant, empty woman who stared back. No signs of lust or fear or turmoil.
Zero. Zilch. Gone.
Grabbing her shoulders, I shook her. “Wake up, esclave. Come out of your fucking bunker and face me. You don’t have to shut down anymore.”
When she didn’t say anything, I yelled right in her face. “This isn’t just my fault, you know. You left the tracker in. You forgot to remove it. You should’ve told me! You should’ve made sure only I had access to you.”
I sat up, dragging her upright to shake her with every word. “You let me down. You ruined everything. Goddammit, Tess. Do something!”
A flicker of something sparked in her eyes before it was gone again, killed by the life-sucking void inside her.
“I’ll fuck you. I’ll make you come back to me. Is that what you want?” I grabbed her uninjured hand and placed it around my cock.
It leapt in her grip, hot and angry; wanting so fucking much to be inside her. “I only get hard if you fight me, Tess. So fucking fight me, because I need you so damn much.” I pressed my forehead against hers, whispering, “Please tell me you won’t let me touch you, all the while really begging me to. Please tell me how you’ll never let me break you, all the while growing wet for me. Tell me anything, esclave.”
I removed my hand from hers, praying she’d fist and stroke me. My heart broke as her grip went limp.
I saw red.
Grabbing her throat, I squeezed, looking so deep into her eyes I swear I saw her fucking soul. And it scared the shit out of me when I realized there was no soul to see. Nothing connected to mine—the mind link we shared was gone.
“Tess, please. I’m begging you.” Pressing my lips against hers again, I didn’t move, waiting, hoping she’d kiss me back.
One breath.
Two.
An agony of waiting for her to soften, accept my protection, my willingness to give her anything she wanted, but she stiffened in my grip. Her hot skin turned chilly; she withdrew even further. The bond we shared snipped free as she sucked whatever existed between us deep inside, leaving me in the dark, all alone, once more.
“Sparrow,” she whispered.
My world crunched to a halt; my heart stopped.
I didn’t think anything could hurt me so bone deep. I wanted to tear out my brain and never exist. That one word. It ruined me. Smashed me with a wrecking ball, leaving me in rubble, in pieces, in dust.
I pulled back, scrambling off the bed. She’d successfully cut off my legs, tore out my heart, and left me for dead.
“Sparrow?” I repeated; my voice cracked.
She looked straight into my eyes. “Sparrow, Q. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes dropped to where my shirt had come undone, zeroing in on my tattoo. She inched forward onto her knees, beckoning me to go closer.
I couldn’t move, rooted to the spot. She just used the safe-word and expected me to come back to her?
The monster inside no longer lived in the realm of sanity—it tore its flesh, yanked at its head—wishing there was a way free from this nightmare.
When I didn’t move, Tess climbed over the rumbled bedding and stepped toward me. Her tiny hand flashed out, tracing the sparrow over my nipple, the highest one—the one flying free.
“They made me hurt others. They made me break them. I’m not a good bird anymore. I don’t know how to live with that. I’m empty. I’m lost. And time won’t heal me. I can’t give you what you need anymore and I wish I could.” Her voice was breathy, tortured. I tried not to listen or believe. This was it. This was the end.
“You don’t mean that. You’ll come back from it. Let me help you.” My mind filled with images of tying her up, whipping her until she remembered who she was. I’d kill her trying if it meant she’d be mine again. “I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just give me more time.”
“I’m leaving in the morning, Q. I’m sorry.”
“Tu ne vas aller nulle part putain!” You’re not fucking going anywhere! I shoved her backward, watching detachedly as she sprawled on the bed. Why didn’t she wince or show pain from her injuries? Was she so far gone she didn’t feel her body either?
The beast inside roared, determined to find out. I struck with my fingers, dragging my nails down her leg.
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.
Chapter Twenty
Tess
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 s
trength 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.
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