Quintessentially Q
Page 37Q suddenly sighed, dropping his hand. He looked away, his temper dimming to surrender. “Je ne vais pas te faire de mal parce je ne veux pas te détruire.” I won’t hurt you, as I don’t want to destroy you. Cupping my cheek, he ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “I can’t stop you leaving, but I won’t stay to see you go.” His touch disappeared as he stepped back. “I don’t want to see you again. Goodbye, esclave.”
He brushed past without another word.
Chapter 19
You’re my esclave, my soul mate, each other we own, you’re mine forever, my bird flew home…
I’d torn one man’s heart out, and now I wanted to tear out my own. My fingers ached to pry open my ribcage and wrench it from beating to dead. I no longer wanted to live with this f**king agony every time I thought about Tess.
She’d successfully hurt me more than any other person in the world. She brought me to my f**king knees and I told the truth when I said I didn’t want to see her again.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t look her in the eye again. Suzette told me what happened yesterday. How Tess told her ex she was leaving without having the decency to tell me first.
The moment Suzette told me Tess was going, I lost it. I f**king forgot I was human and ripped the kitchen apart. I hurled the ten thousand euro coffee maker through the pantry door, shredded packets of food, and tore the tap from the bench-top.
Only when I’d expended my angst-riddled energy did Suzette move closer and do something I would never have allowed before.
She hugged me.
Her tiny arms wrapped around my waist, squeezing tight, reminding me I was human and not a monster after all.
After everything I’d done—it wasn’t enough. Both the beast and man had lost.
My Tess was gone. What the f**k did they do to her? The passion and strength had disappeared. Looking into Tess’s eyes now left me with a shiver and loneliness. All I saw was nothing. Fucking nothing.
She’d shutdown but I didn’t have the f**king luxury of doing the same. As much as I wanted the pain to go away—how tempting the thought of freeing myself from this agony, I couldn’t just leave.
People relied on me. Slaves. Staff. Countless employees.
I charged through the house, going out of my f**king mind at the thought of losing the woman I loved. A new rattle existed inside me—fresh, oozing wounds caused by Tess’s betrayal. The darkness I let consume me while hunting for Tess came back with a vengeance. Gone was the urge to tend to her, make her well again.
All I wanted to do was be far, far away so she couldn’t see how much she broke me. Me? The beast with no f**king feelings teetered on the edge of wrapping his arms around Tess’s knees and begging with everything he had for her to remember. For her to stop this madness and man up. She let shock steal her life. She’d given in to the worst kind of disease.
Three times I’d seen this happen. Three times, I returned former slaves to their husbands, and three times the women hugged and smiled but something was missing. Something intrinsic, unique. The husbands knew straight away. They recognised the soul of the person they adored had shut down, locked tight, and sunk to the depths of their wives’ being.
I’d stood by and felt sorry for the poor shmucks who lost their wives all over again. Once a mind reached its breaking point—it didn’t break. It folded inward, layering like an accordion until every element of emotion was deleted. Until their horrific past, or whatever they’d endured, was gone.
All along Tess had been so strong. And now she was even stronger. Stronger in her chilliness and the sheer fact she’d learned how to block life out. Completely, perfectly, she would never feel again—neither hope nor happiness nor fear. Her life had gone from sensory overload to bleak and barren. She didn’t do it deliberately, but I knew there was no hope.
Wrenching open the door under the foyer stairs, I bolted down the steps and grabbed a pool cue from the rack. “Fuuuuck!” I yelled, throwing it at the wall. It speared like a javelin, clattering loudly off the wood panelling. The gaming room was the only place I wanted to be.
I didn’t want to go back into the house. I wanted to create a den where I could pretend I never loved or lost.
I’d spent last night in the conservatory—after hearing Tess was leaving I couldn’t lie beside her. I couldn’t put myself through that. Instead, I fell into a fitful sleep with the sounds of birds roosting, but when I woke up, the comfort they offered me was false.
They were only there because I surrounded them in wire and locks. They weren’t there for me. They were my prisoners.
I no longer looked at each sparrow and saw a woman I helped save. I no longer took satisfaction that each little creature represented the good I did. They all became a mockery—all became Tess. Bouncing around in their cage, looking for a way out.
Just like f**king Tess.
“Je ne peux pas plus faire ça putain!” I can’t f**king do this anymore! I’d never been so consumed. I wanted freedom from this mania inside.
Alcohol.
That would help numb me, if not wipe away my thoughts completely. The moment I thought about drinking myself into oblivion, I couldn’t move fast enough.
I jumped over the pool cue on the floor and practically sprinted for the crystal bar. Wrenching open the large humidor, I entered the musky dark cave where ludicrously expensive bottles of liquor rested in the shadows.
Stepping back into the light, I brushed away dust on the Macallan Fine & Rare Collection of single malt whiskey. If I sold this bottle, it would probably fetch ten thousand euros from idiotic connoisseurs. Too f**king bad for them, I planned on swigging the entire thing as medicinal rather than entertainment.
I didn’t bother with a glass. I didn’t bother with sipping and savouring. I tore off the top and chugged.
The burn charged down my throat, splashing into my empty stomach, swilling around with flames of alcoholic fire.
I groaned as another swallow compounded the inferno until I felt sure my stomach would erode.
I took another four chugs before I had to stop to catch my breath. My f**king eyes watered like some virgin drinker, and the room already had a brownish haze.
My hope of sleeping existed in consuming this entire bottle. Maybe then I would go to sleep, and when I woke up, Tess would be gone.
Tess is leaving. Do something! Stop f**king wallowing.
She’s already made the decision. Fuck if I’m going to grovel. I did everything in my f**king power and she still didn’t want me. I could only take so much before I turned from tender lover who wanted to heal her, to a man who wanted to beat the shit out of her because she hurt me so much.
Throwing myself into the corner of the room, I bent my legs and rested my forearms on the top of my knees. The heavy bottle dangled from my fingers, and the only time I moved was to add more fuel to the raging fire in my stomach.
*****
A voice pierced my drunken haze; I froze. Whoever it was, I didn’t want them to find me. Piss off. Leave me the f**k alone.
“I can smell a shitload of alcohol, so I know you’re down here,” Frederick muttered as he came around the pool table to find me curled up against the wall. The wall was a f**king comfy place to be. I’d never been so warm and soft and numb.
The whiskey was my only friend. I hugged the bottle closer as Frederick’s forehead furrowed. His nose wrinkled, and he sighed as if I were a mess he had to clean up.
Well luckily for him, I liked my mess and he could just f**k off.
My temper was well and truly off its leash; I snarled, “Fous moi la paix.” Leave me the hell alone.
Frederick crossed his arms, glaring. “How much have you had to drink?”
I sneered, waving the now almost empty bottle of whiskey as if it was the most ridiculous question I’d ever heard.
He blew out a heavy breath, rolling his eyes. He hoisted the front of his slacks to squat in front of me. The urge to punch him so he fell on his ass consumed me.
His slicked-back hair was perfect, his midnight blue suit immaculate. His sapphire eyes had no strain or worry in them. He looked like a f**king poster boy for a happy and successful marriage.
Something I will never have.
Ah shit, the painful thoughts were back. I’d successfully drunk myself into a stupor before, and nothing had existed in my brain, but now the haze switched to painful tiredness. I sighed. “Just leave, Roux. I don’t need you here.”
He shook his head. “I’m not about to leave a friend curled up in the f**king corner reeking of whiskey without knowing what’s eating him.” He raised an eyebrow. “So…what’s eating you?”
The terrible weight I’d been carrying in my chest for weeks exploded. “She f**king hates me! That’s what’s eating me.” I threw my hands up and the bottle went flying.
Frederick caught it before it hit the ground. “She doesn’t hate you, Mercer. You couldn’t be further from the truth.” He eyed the whiskey before taking a swig, wincing as it went down. “You scoured the world for her. You killed countless men to find her, and you butchered the man who took her because that’s what she asked of you. You’ve spent every day beside her, wiping her brow, suffering through her hallucinations all without complaint. You’ve been there for her and she knows that. She still loves you.”
I chuckled. “Oh, I complained. I’ve broken a lot of shit because I couldn’t stand to hear her nightmares or stomach the emptiness in her soul.”
Frederick smiled. “I did the same thing when Angelique got that crazy flu a few years ago. I felt so helpless. Breaking stuff was a good way of venting. That woman of mine has me by the balls—just like Tess for you.”
I scowled. Frederick painted a picture of a man who’d lost his backbone to a woman. Who went berserk when he couldn’t have her—who had no other purpose but nurse her back to health. That wasn’t f**king me.
Was it?
That meant I cared about another more than I cared about myself. That I put their needs before my own.
Shaking my head, I argued, “You’re mistaking me for a pu**y. I’m a scary son of a bitch who runs an international company and saves slaves from f**ked-up ass**les.” I snatched the bottle out of his grip and took a huge gulp.
My world consisted of liquid and whiskey vapour—I only half noticed he’d stolen it and had no time to listen to his ramblings. All I could see was my old life. Working my ass off for a company that took everything I gave. I lived a lonely, ever fighting existence, but it meant I was too tired, too focused to hurt. I hadn’t even known I’d been lonely until Tess f**king came into my life.
All of this would never have happened if I’d just sent her back to her moron boyfriend. Who the hell was I to keep her? Look at how screwed up both our lives were, thanks to my genius plan.
I hung my head. “I’m kidding myself, Roux. I’m not a softhearted man who can be normal.”
Frederick shook his head. “You’re right. You can’t. So stop trying to be. I know Tess would’ve really appreciated you caring for her over the last few weeks, but she’s on the mend. It’s time you showed her the man she fell for. The master. The dominating bastard who has sadistic tendencies.”
He chuckled, adding, “The last time you were drunk you’d just sent her back and told me, in very intimate detail I might add, what she let you do to her that night in your bedroom.”
My mind shot back to that night. The first time I let a little part of myself free, when uninhibited with alcohol, I strung Tess up and whipped her.
I lost all control. Baring my teeth, I dropped the barrier to my demons, pounding into her. There was no rocking, or gentle lovemaking. I pistoned my h*ps into her, grunting, sweating, a crazed need deep inside. I needed to bruise her, mark her, claim her.
With my c**k deep inside, I raked fingernails along her ass, drawing blood, thrilling at how she panted and gasped with need.
The gag barricaded her screams. She bounced in my arms, br**sts jiggling with every thrust. The room erupted with the sounds of heavy breathing and slapping sweaty skin. The air temperature was too hot. Tess was too much.
I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.
I jumped a mile when Frederick clasped my arm. My hazy eyes struggled to leave the erotic daydream and focus. How much I wished I was balls deep in Tess right now. How much I wanted to eradicate the distance between us.
“She’s your other half, Q. She lives for the sharp pleasure of pain and you live to give it to her. If there have ever been two people who belong together, it’s you.” He stood, hauling me to my feet. “So you’re gonna do something about it.”
Oh, f**king 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 f**k 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.”