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 f**k 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 f**king much to be inside her. “I only get hard if you fight me, Tess. So f**king 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 f**king 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 f**king 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, f**k 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 20
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 a**hole 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 f**king 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.