Shit.
Breathing hard, I looked around the cabin, trying to think of some way to fix this—fix myself. Nothing about the luxury interior or cylindrical aircraft gave hints of how to clear my mind from fear and be free.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I crossed the small distance between us. It was my turn to kneel, settling myself between Q’s spread thighs. The sheer size of him, the air of ruthlessness, let me place all my trust in his belief—his belief that he could fix me.
“I wish I had something else to say. It seems as though all I do these days is apologise.”
Q sighed and for a moment I worried he’d cross his arms and ignore me. But then he brushed a blonde curl off my forehead, his jaw tight. “I wish I could tear out your memories so they leave you in peace. I wish I could kill those fucking bastards all over again. I want to forget about being human and let my inner monster tear them limb from limb.”
Q’s entire body tensed, vibrating with rage. Once upon a time I would’ve been turned on, scared, and intrigued by Q’s wrath. Now, after everything we’d been through, he no longer scared me. His anger filled me with happiness—he would do anything, be anyone, for me. To have such a wondrous gift made me ache with gratefulness.
I placed my hands on his knees. “I wish that, too.” The smoothness of the material over the hardness of his body sent my heart skipping a beat.
“What else do you wish for?” he demanded, sensing everything I wasn’t saying. Demanding to know the truth.
Sitting straighter, I confessed, “I need you to promise you won’t hate me. If I know you’ll be patient, I’ll fix myself. I swear it.”
Q shook his head sadly. “That’s what you’re afraid of? That I’ll grow impatient and leave you because you’re battling things you refuse to tell me?” Sitting tall, he glared into my eyes. “Have I given you any reason to doubt that I won’t wait for you past death if I must? Have I given you any cause for insecurity?”
Shit, he had a gift at making me suffer guilt. How could I ask him to wait for me when secretly I believed he’d walk away long before I was repaired?
“No. I’m sorry.” My shoulders slouched. Every part of me was heavy and cold. “You’ve been nothing but gentle and supportive.”
“I may get angry and pissed off at everything they’ve done to you—that’s my right as your future husband—but I give you my word: I take our relationship seriously. When I say the words ‘til death do us part’ I’ll mean them. There’s no escape once you sign that contract, Tess. Call me old fashioned or a possessive bastard, but you’re mine. Forever.”
My heart grew wings, and the fear that he’d throw me away dissolved. I believed him. No matter how long I took to come right, he would be there for me every step.
“I haven’t been fair to you. Je suis à toi, Q.” I’m yours.
His face lost the hardness; a flicker of adoration warmed his gaze. Pulling me upright, he placed me in the seat beside his. He pursed his lips as a thought flickered, then he shifted to reach into his back pocket. A crinkling sounded as he pulled something free. “I wasn’t going to give this to you, but I think you need reminding how strongly I feel for you. Yes, you’re mine, but I’m fucking yours through and through.” Passing the tattered piece of paper to me, he twisted in his seat, scowling out the window.
The plane’s engines whirred and purred as we descended faster from clouds to earth. The islands on the horizon were now spread below us, dotted with buildings and a slash of grey runway. My engagement ring flashed with expensive rainbows as I stroked the still-warm note.
I stared at the folded piece of paper as if it only had doom to tell me. I never expected Q to write a love letter. If he hadn’t wanted me to read it, why had he given it to me?
“Read it, woman. It’s not going to bite you,” Q muttered, still staring out the window.
Sucking in a breath, I unfolded the crinkles and smoothed it out. The sight of Q’s masculine cursive made me fall in love all over again. Everything he did was flawless.
Esclave…Tess
You won’t see this—just like I won’t tell you certain things about me no matter how long we’re married.
Fuck me. Married.
Me? I never thought I’d experience what others took for granted—until you, of course. You landed on my doorstep and stole my fucking heart the moment you fought me over the pool table. I’d never been so turned on and so utterly confused.
I tried to keep you safe from me, but I never thought I’d have to keep you safe from the bastards in my sordid life. I failed you, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much you’ve suffered—all because of me.
You were tortured because of me.
I could promise you the world. I could cut out my heart and present it at your feet. I could write sonnets and poems and lyrics all designed to spill my fucking guilt and remorse, but nothing will make the ache go away.
You were so strong once and now you’re stronger still. You think you’re broken, but I see the truth. Not only did you cut me out and force me to face my worst nightmare, but I feel as if you’ll disappear at any moment.
But you won’t be able to leave once you’ve said ‘I do.’ The moment you’ve signed and become Tess Mercer, your soul belongs to me. You’ll truly be mine, and I’ll own you forever. Maybe then the fear will go away.
Fuck, I truly hope so, because every day I’m going mad. Going insane with the thought of you walking out the door and leaving.
Once you’re truly mine, I might find the guts to show you a little of what I’ve hidden all my life. I want to welcome you into my world. I want to share everything that I am. I want to teach you everything that I know.
Fuck, Tess, you don’t get it. Do you understand that I’m not the one with the power—it’s you. You’re the one in control, and it kills me to admit it.
Will you ever forgive me? Will you ever look at me the same? Will you ever stop thinking that if you had never met me, you’d never have been taken the second time? If only I fucking sent you home when I had the chance. If only I stopped the darkness from building. If only—hindsight is a fucking bitch.
But if I had sent you away, my life would’ve remained the same. Empty. Lonely. So then I can’t regret falling for you even though my need for you almost killed you.
So you see? Vicious circle. Around and around. I’m the cause of your pain, yet I want more of it. I’m the reason you’re shattered but I want to be the one to glue you back together.
I’m such a selfish bastard.
Forgive me. Forgive my sins and I’ll split open my soul and let you in.
How ironic that you think I’ll leave you. How pathetic that you think you don’t deserve me. The truth is, I’m petrified you’ll finally see me as a monster and despise me. I’m a fucking mess.
You think I’m invincible. But I’m not. I’m weak. Weak for you and everything I taste when I’m with you.
Say yes. Please fucking say yes.
If you do, then I’ll be the best master and husband the world has ever seen. I’ll give you a life full of experiences and passion.
We’ll finally find peace in the dark—
There was no ending, almost as if Q couldn’t bear to write another word. Not even a full-stop gave closure to such a brutally exposing letter.
I’d been living a lie. A lie where I thought I only loved Q. I didn’t love him. I adored him. I worshipped him. I was alive because of him.
Light and colour and effervescent joy gave me the strength to slap away my guilt and embrace what Q just showed me.
Forgive him? There was nothing to forgive. We were both victims of cause and effect—pawns in a game of happiness and loss. We had each other—we won in the end despite everything we’d been through.
“I don’t need to say any vows, Q. You own my soul already.” I glanced at his frozen form. “I don’t need to forgive you because there’s nothing, nothing, that you’re guilty of. No crimes. No sins.” I waited for some ack
nowledgement that he was listening. He remained unyielding in the chair, only a twitch of his hand signalled he’d heard.
The airplane tyres slammed against tarmac as we went from flying to charging down the runway. My heart had been left in the clouds, dancing with the knowledge that a man so loyal and amazing as Q loved me.
I’d gone from unwanted to idolized. The shift in my world was so earth-shattering, I didn’t know how I stood or followed Q down the steps after we’d taxied to the airport. I existed in a bubble of awe as Q guided me into a sleek black limousine, and we pulled out of the airport. We hadn’t spoken, too flayed open to risk admitting that his letter had done what words could not. It gave us hope.
Safely seated in the back of the limo, Q turned to me, asking softly, “Now, do you understand?”
My eyes shot to his, holding his tortured gaze. “Now, I understand.”
Chapter Two
Quincy
We’re altered, we’re abnormal, our souls stained with each other’s mark. Our souls are that of monsters born in the dark
Time was a fickle bitch.
It seemed only hours since I met Tess. Seconds since I touched her for the first time. Only moments since I hunted for her to take her home. All those blocks of twenty-four hours that built a wall from ever finding her had disintegrated, seeming to hurl me headlong into the future—the future I wanted so fucking bad.
My heart stopped as my mind filled with Rio. Seeing her like that—naked, tortured, bound—enraged me to the point of shedding all human fakery and turning savage. The metallic stench of death still coated my nostrils; the warmth of spilled blood steaming on my hands. Tess had looked like a corpse—a cracked out, mentally broken corpse. They’d infected her mind, her lungs, her very fucking soul, and I’d stolen her back only to lose her all over again.
It seemed only a minute ago when Tess walked away from me, shutting herself off forever, inciting panic, causing me to free all my birds because I couldn’t stomach the thought of ever caring for another life. It felt as if it were yesterday when I broke down and let her take my life—using me to spew all her internal blackness away.
I’d hoped it would be enough. I’d hoped I no longer needed to watch the hands of time, fearing Tess’s state of mind.
But time liked to fuck with me.
Instead of Tess growing whole again and leaning on me to help, she lied.
Every lie she told whittled at my temper until I knew eventually I’d explode. I could only accept her tales for so long before I forced her to tell the truth.
For three weeks she healed. We spent time together as man and woman rather than master and slave. We became friends.
Friends who didn’t tell each other anything.
I sat in the back of the limousine staring at the woman who owned my balls, body, and heart, but ultimately she was a ghost. An unknown riddle of human spirit who was too stubborn to burden me with any of it. Why couldn’t I get her to accept me? Why didn’t she trust me to help? She’d let me brand her. She wore my ring. I knew she was mine. But the knowledge meant jack-shit when she lied so blatantly.
Nothing would grant me peace because I knew she had no peace. It was elusive, evasive, and I was fucking tired.
Tess suddenly scooted across the seat, pressing against my side. Her blue-grey eyes connected with mine, looking so pure, so fucking ancient. Her soul was mangled and bruised and the light that’d always existed no longer glowed like the cosmos; now it flickered—spurting with blinding light only to be dimmed by sorrow. Sorrow she refused to talk about.
I’d tried to show her the depth of my feelings by sharing that ridiculous letter. I’d regretted giving it to her almost instantly—those were my chaotic thoughts, not for her to read. Scribbled in the dark while she thrashed with dreams.
But in a way, I was glad she’d glimpsed into my psyche. She owed me the same courtesy. I could force her to share hers—a trade.
Grabbing a handful of her silky blonde hair, I held her still. Threading my hands through the strands, I made my way till I cupped the back of her neck. Her cupid lips parted, sending a thrill through my stomach to my cock. I’d struggled the entire four hour journey with a massive hard-on. She’d kept her eyes closed most of the way, but I knew she wasn’t asleep.
I knew because she wasn’t drenched in sweat and screaming like the holocaust had come again.
“Let me fight them for you, esclave.” My fingers tightened around the delicate cord of muscles. She felt so breakable, so damageable. It was a lie. Her body may bleed, her bones may break, but her mind? That was a fucking fortress.
And I wanted in.
I wanted to ram the gates, cross her moat, and send an entire army of artillery to massacre her nightmares. I needed to know what swirled and swelled behind her eyes. I needed to know how to help her.
“Just by being you, you’re fighting them for me.” She bowed her head beneath my hold, giving me her weaknesses, her vulnerability.
My mouth went dry at the thought of threatening her. Squeezing her throat until she spilled her unspoken secrets. Maybe then I’d find the truth.
Forcing her to meet my eyes, I murmured, “I’ll be by your side forever, but I won’t allow you to push me away again.” Brushing her nose with mine, I added, “And I sense it, Tess. Your reluctance to tell me. You’re floundering on your own, and it’s pissing me off that you’re not leaning on me. So lean, otherwise, I can’t promise I’ll keep my temper.”
The opaque screen between driver and car interior slid down. I glowered as Franco spun in his seat, cocking his head. “We planning on sitting on this runway all day, or do you have a destination?”
Tess spun in my hold; I let her go. Her perfectly white cheeks rushed with colour. “Franco. What? How…” She gawked at my head of security.
Tess and Franco had formed an unlikely alliance. He’d treated her roughly when she first came to me—feeding off my need, letting himself taunt a slave who wasn’t broken. He’d chased her when she ran, he’d hunted her when she was stolen, he’d been beside me every step, and I knew he had a deep respect for Tess. Even though he took a while to forgive her for leaving me bloody and oozing a month ago.
Franco’s green eyes connected with Tess as I relaxed into the seat. I would never admit it, but I liked watching them interact. I liked that Tess wasn’t afraid of him. I liked that Franco had developed an older brother protectiveness toward her.
When Franco didn’t reply to Tess’s mismatch of questions, she shifted in the leather to face him. “How did you get here?”
“Who do you think flew the bloody plane?”
Her eyes flew to mine; I kept my face blank. I shrugged, holding back a smile as she whipped to look at Franco again. “You fly, too?” Her shoulders were tense, head cocked warily. A swell of pride filled me. She didn’t believe him.
As she shouldn’t. He was a bullshitter.
“He flew in the cockpit to give us privacy,” I said, letting the small smile twist my lips.
Tess’s eyes locked onto mine. The blue looked softer, warmer. She must’ve known I wanted privacy in the hopes of another membership into the mile-high club.
I still couldn’t get the thought of her on her knees with her cheek pressed to the helicopter carpet out of my mind. My cock throbbed at the memory of driving into her from behind. She’d been so hot and wet. After denying her an orgasm and being pissed at her for making me come against my will, the tension between us was out of this fucking world.
I swallowed, remembering how wild she'd been when I spanked her. How her back arched and she moaned that delicious fucking moan.
It had been the last time we’d been connected completely. Master and slave. Dominator and dominated. It linked us more than anything. It also made me realise I would do absolutely anything for this beautiful woman until the day I died.
It was also the day she disappeared.
Fuck. Even that memory was tainted by the bastard traffickers.
My hands curled on my thighs, wishing to all that was mighty to reincarnate Red Wolverine so I could rip open his chest, cut out his heart, and feed it to him while he choked for life.
Franco smiled, looking less civilized and more feral these days. Rio had changed both of us. “Privacy, huh? Doubt you’ll get much of that with a wedding coming up. You’re a lucky little lady, not having any in-laws to impress. Mercer, on the other hand, better be on his best behaviour.”
Tess leaned back in her chair, fastening her seatbelt. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re both on our own in this world. Just him and me.” She flashed me a look full of shy promise and blatant loyalty.
Fuck me, I loved her. Overpowering awe grew day by day inside me. I’d sold my soul to her.
Her.
This woman who I would never take for granted.
I grabbed her hand, linking my fingers through hers. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to. Our souls did enough talking.
“Take us to the island, Franco. I need to take Tess somewhere completely private.”
Her fingers twitched in mine. “Wait…what island?” Amazement widened her eyes. “Oh, my God, you own an island? We’re getting married on an island that you own?”
Franco laughed. “Guess what it’s called. Go on. You’ll never guess.”
Tess shook her head. “You own an island that you named?” Her fingers went loose as she looked at me like I was a stranger. “This is too much. Q—how…” Her question faded under the weight of wonderment.
I hated that. Hated the look of awe and confusion. Just like she looked at me when I showed her Moineau Holdings for the first time. She made me so fucking self-conscious of my wealth.
Yes, I own an island.
Yes, I’m fucking rich.
Yes, I’m happy I’m loaded because without it, I would never have found you.
Be fucking grateful rather than afraid.
My heart raced and I opened my mouth to yell, but Franco jumped in before I could upset her. “It’s called Volière.”
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