Текст книги "Twisted Together"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

I needed him down. I needed him in my arms.

Lynx glared. “I wasn’t expecting an audience. But feel free to watch.” He tore the towel from Q’s head, revealing the bruised, slack face of my master.

The rage inside billowed, gathering momentum, hurtling toward one outcome. Him or me. One of us would be dead within minutes.

“Don’t touch him,” I hissed. I tore from Franco’s grip, stepping forward. I stood in the centre, wedged between right and wrong.

Franco and Alpha team shifted but remained silent. Unspoken law put me in charge. Nothing would be done or finished without my say so. And no one would kill Lynx because I would.

Lynx smiled, ignoring the men behind me—dismissing them just as I had. His gaze locked with mine and it was just us—us in this arena of death. “Who are you?” He stepped back, placing himself beside Q’s upside down body. Pressing the muzzle of his gun against Q’s temple, he said, “Wait, I know who you are. You’ve come for him then. Come to watch him die.”

I hated his mind games—holding a gun to an already deceased body. Teasing me with hope—damn fucking hope. I wouldn’t play his games. I knew the truth. He couldn’t hurt Q anymore because he was dead. The tracker in his arm spoke the truth—not this liar.

I glided forward, compelled to touch—to confirm the white pallor wasn’t fake. I couldn’t ignore the pull, a vortex sucking me stronger and stronger toward Q.

I wanted to scream at Franco to cut Q down, but Lynx protected his prize.

The link between us sputtered, weak…gone. “I’ve come to watch but you’re wrong about what. I’m here to watch your blood coat the floor.”

Lynx’s lips twisted. “You’re as delusional as he was. Do you want to know what he did only hours ago? What another slave did to the man you love?”

I slammed to a halt, bombarded by images of Q sleeping with another, loving another.

He wouldn’t.

“You can lie all you want, but I don’t believe you.”

Franco shuffled behind me. “Put down your gun, Lynx. Now.”

Blair fanned to the side, building a wall of men all bristling with weapons.

“Stand down. This is mine. Do not move.” My voice echoed with authority. The men fell silent.

Lynx smiled. “A woman with power. I like it.” He stroked the muzzle over Q’s cheek, indenting his skin, making him sway in the bindings.

My stomach snarled.

No one had the right to touch him. No one! He’s mine!

Another step. I raised my gun. Give him to me. There would be no reasoning with him. In order to get to Q, I had to win. I had to take not ask.

“You like power? You have none. Take a look. You’re outnumbered. I have a gun trained on your heart and your threats mean nothing to me. Stop touching him and I might let you die cleanly.”

“I told you I’d come for you, Tess. Never doubt how much I love you.” Q’s voice echoed in my head. He’d sacrificed so much for me. He’d brought me back to life. And I’d repaid him by sliding into the darkest part of me. The part I never wanted to know. I have to. I’m doing this for you.

A moment spread like an eternity. Finally Lynx removed his weapon from Q, training it on me. His crocodile gaze glinted, lips pulling back against crooked teeth. “What’s your name?”

I took another step, my finger trembling over the trigger. “Why?”

He cricked his neck, the gun steady in his hands. “Because I’d like to know the name of the woman I’m about to slaughter. I’ll murmur it in a curse every night while I rape a woman—all the while imagining she’s you.”

The vile sentence didn’t affect me. I was beyond affecting. “My name is Tess Snow. And you won’t be cursing it. You’ll be whimpering it.”

He laughed. “Come closer and we’ll see.” His red shoes inched toward me, closing the gap, bringing us closer to the final conclusion.

“Tess! Don’t.” Franco’s voice rang around the space. I ignored him.

“Do you know what I am?” I whispered.

Lynx’s nostrils flared. “What you are? You’re nothing but a—” He shook his head. “Wait, no…I see it—you’re…”

“I’m his. I married the night and became his monster. And you should fear me.” Nothing else existed inside. No residual issues of kidnapping, death, or pain. Nothing but peace.

I controlled my fate. Right here. Right now. And my fate was to kill and be killed. We would die together. I would wear his blood as I descended into the underworld.

“You ask if I see what you are. I do.” His demeanour changed from angry to smooth. “You’re not worthy of death, Tess Snow. Your previous owner is dead. I claim you as my new property. Come to me and I’ll let you live.” His gaze slithered over my body. “I’ll treat you right. I’ve searched all my life for a woman like you.”

Another step. Only a metre left. Grabbing distance. Shooting distance.

“A woman like me?”

“A woman so broken she doesn’t even know. A woman strong enough to survive anything because she no longer feels anything.” His arm lowered a little, believing his fantasy—that he could win me. That he could acquire me.

I laughed.

Everyone froze—the dungeon pulsed as I slipped from sanity to insane. I lowered my gun.

I’d never felt more clear. More powerful. He’s already dead. I knew how I’d do it. “You want to own me?” Softness entered my voice, ghosting over the tiles toward Lynx.

“Tess—come back here,” Franco ordered. “Whatever you’re doing—stop it.”

The awareness between me and Q’s killer grew stronger, blocking everyone out. I didn’t look at Q or pay attention to Franco. I was single-minded. Locked on my prey. Mouth watering with the knowledge I’d won.

Lynx smiled, eye’s glinting with interest. “Yes. Stand by my side. I would be proud to keep you. You’d have my word I would never sell you—as long as you stayed this cold.” His accent danced with sensuality, dragging me closer toward him. Idiot. Buffoon.

“You want to own my body. But what about my mind?” One last step. Space meant nothing anymore.  Such a short space. A killable space.

His pistol lowered, hypnotised by his own illusion. “I want to own all of you. Give it to me and I’ll treat you better than he ever did.”

He. Q. My heart launched out of my chest, winging to my dead master. My skin was sleet and snow, but it was almost over. Soon, my maître. Soon, I’m coming for you. I noticed everything as if I’d stepped outside my body. Every nuance, every threat was achingly clear.

 One more step. Lynx’s body heat buffeted me—his expensive cologne made me want to vomit. But I looked into his eyes, invoking the sweetest poison of my soul. I made him believe. “I doubt you can,” I murmured, looking up through lowered lashes. The room was stagnant with tension—it was soup—unstrained syrup.

Lynx was bewitched. “Doubt I can what?” He leaned forward, eyes latching onto my lips.

“Treat me better than he ever did.” His body curved, swaying toward me, drugged on the poison I fed. “I’ll accept your terms, if you do one thing for me. One tiny thing.”

His lips hovered a fraction above mine. “Do what?”

I tilted my head, hair falling over one eye. “Ask what I want in return. Then I’ll give you all that I am.”

 His forehead furrowed, his temper growing. “You’re too bold. But I’ll do it—one request, then no more.” He reached for my chin, holding me. I ignored the insects crawling beneath his touch. Soon. It would be over….soon. “What do you want?”

My eyes rested on Q. His wonderful body, his gorgeous features. I fanned the love in my heart, cocooning myself with strength. On barely a whisper, I said, “You can’t give me what I want.”

Lynx pulled back, the fog retreating from his eyes, finally sensing my trap. But it was too late.

“You can’t give it to me because I want your fucking soul.” I pressed my weapon against his cock. I fired.

A second.

That’s all it took.

The bullet tore through soft intimate flesh, making him scream. And scream. And scream. His pistol swung upward but I was ready. I shot his hand. Blood filled the wound, spilling with a steady trickle. The weapon skittered away like a scared animal, sliding into a corner of the room.

Lynx crashed to the floor, holding his bloody trousers, incomprehensible with pain.

Franco tried to grab me, but I didn’t stop or care. Slapping him away, I knelt beside Lynx, letting his groaning agony wash over me. I pushed a fingertip into his blood, gathering the life-paint, smearing it across my cheek. The cooling ooze was a hard-won trophy. I swelled with retribution.

I did this for you, Q. I’ve avenged you.

“Help—someone!” Lynx spluttered between his screams. Slamming a hand over his mouth, I shut him up. His feeble fights were nothing to the rage making me inhumanly strong. I didn’t care my knees got wet as I kneeled by his head. I didn’t care his blood soaked through my clothes, baptising me in horror. All I cared about was the last words I wanted to say. To him. To the traffickers who’d taken me. To evil itself.

I bowed over him, whispering in his ear, “My name is Tess Mercer. I’m no longer weak or afraid or broken. I’ve taken control of my fate. I no longer need a tower or dark angels or help. I am fear. And I take your soul in penance for everything that was done to me. I take it for the women you’ve raped. I take it for the women you’ve sold. I take it for my master, soul-mate, and husband. I take you for me.”

Pressing the gun against his forehead, I locked eyes with his chaotic gaze. He begged me silently. He pleaded wordlessly. And no compassion filled me.

I hope you burn forever.

Trigger. Sulphur. Bullet.

He was dead.

No one moved or spoke as I rose gracefully from the puddle of blood, standing over the soulless corpse. I was a phoenix glowing bright with power. I took back everything that’d been stolen.

I didn’t find the old Tess. She was gone. But in her place stood a new Tess. A woman who no longer feared. I’d looked evil in the eye and won. I’d been reborn in blood.

Franco shuffled forward, gently prying my fingers from the gun. “Tess—are you okay?”

His voice cut through my silence inside, reminding me I’d taken one life, now it was time to mourn another.

Turning to Q, I wasn’t strong enough to fight the swell of grief this time.

Q hung there—his stomach didn’t rise with breath, his dark hair glistening with wetness. He was gone and it was time to smother my pointless hope and accept. “Cut him down.”

The team of men did as I asked, obeying my every command. A pulley in the wall dropped Q’s body to a height where a knife could be sliced through the rope around his ankles. Two men caught him. Franco collected his legs and in a sombre ceremony they carried him from the dungeon. They carried my reason for existing back into the sunlight.

I trailed behind, smearing Lynx’s blood between my fingers like a talisman. The emptiness inside rapidly filled with churning waves of sadness. My heartbeats were heavy and loud—gonging with every step.

One beat.

Two beats.

I focused on staying strong. I had to. Q was gone.

Once upstairs, the men placed Q on a couch in a small conservatory. It was the only room that looked peaceful with plants rather than stripper poles.

I allowed the men to untie him—unwrapping his ankles, freeing his arms. I kneeled on the floor by his head, never taking my gaze from his white face. His eyes remained closed, lips slightly parted.

The waves inside splashed against my crumbling self-control. The first tear escaped my control, sliding down my cheek.

Franco disappeared. He came back with a blue blanket draping it over Q’s nakedness.

He’s dead.

No matter how much I told myself, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. If I did it meant my life was over. Forever. I would remain alone.

Hope—that bastardly emotion—wouldn’t let me go.

He doesn’t feel dead.

He’s not gone. He can’t be gone.

The cord linking our souls together wasn’t completely sundered. Or was I believing my own lies? Numbing myself to the truth?

Q please. Don’t leave.

The first wave broke my iron control, sending a torrent of tears up my spine.

I cupped Q’s cheek. I froze.

He was clammy. Not cold.

Hope took over my waves of tears, building a wall of wishes.

“Franco…” I looked up, begging him to confirm.

Franco hovered over me, his body seizing with injury. He lowered his good hand beneath Q’s nostrils. Ducking beneath his arm, I pressed my ear against Q’s damp chest, willing a heartbeat to thud.

My ear grew warm as I pressed harder, throbbing with the need to hear the fundamental part of him thrum.

Moments ticked past while we listened and waited.

Then my hope was confirmed.

Franco and I jerked back together. Our eyes met, wide with awe. “He’s breathing,” Franco said. I blurted, “His heartbeat is faint but it’s there.”

The churning waves vanished, leaving me with frantic calm. “Someone get more blankets. Water. Call an ambulance.” I pressed my ear to Q’s chest again, needing to hear.

Thud…thud…

You’re going to be okay.

Q’s unconscious form became the hub of commotion. Men dashed around, delivering blankets, first aid kits, and water.

I didn’t move from Q’s side. With gentle fingertips, I traced his cheekbones, whispering over his lips. “You’re safe. Wake up. Please wake up.”

Tears breached my eyelashes, dripping over my cheeks. But these were hopeful tears rather than heavy with grief. My body remembered how to feel, thawing the ice in my blood, bringing me up from the darkness and back into the sunshine. “Q—please.”

Kneeling higher, I pressed my lips to his. In my mind I tasted his agony—the torture he’d endured. I licked away his screams, letting him know we’d come for him.

We weren’t too late.

I’m here.

My body began to quake, exceeding any Richter scale as I filled with shaking gratefulness.

I kissed him again. Hard and fierce.

He didn’t move but something shifted in my heart. I knew he’d heard me—sensed me. An awareness gathered in the space as Q clawed his way from unconsciousness, fighting to return.

In increments, he came alive.

His chest raised higher, his lips tightening as pain registered.

Then his eyes went from closed to narrowed to open. Pale jade blazed while the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and raw.

What the hell did they do to him?

I shook my head. I didn’t want to know. I never wanted to picture him in such pain. I couldn’t handle it. I’d never forgive myself for not extracting a worse toll on Lynx if I knew.

Q’s gaze focused on mine, pulling me inside him, sewing us together stronger, deeper than ever before. “Te—Tess?”

I burst into tears. Throwing my arms around his neck, I peppered his face with kisses. I wasn’t gentle. I couldn’t be gentle.

He half-laughed, half-groaned. “Tout va bien.” It’s okay. His voice was cracked and rough, breathless with pain.

“You’re alive. Q—” I couldn’t stop kissing him, layering him with all the love I had. “We thought you were dead. How is this possible?” I stroked his cheek, imprinting his glorious face onto my heart.

Q stiffened, wincing as a flush of agony paled his features. “He d—did kill me, a f—few times. Or at least, I think so—I remember leaving—falling...” His eyes clouded. “I followed you, esclave. I thought you’d come—”

“We did come.”

He smiled. “Kiss me again. I need to know this is real.” His voice was barely audible, cracking and wheezing but I understood every word.

My lips caressed his, drinking him, loving him. It was a chaste kiss. No tongue, only breath and heat and a promise of never leaving.

Pulling away, I asked, “If he killed you—how are you alive?”

Q looked away, hiding the torrent of memories. “He had ta—Taser. Amazing what a volt of el—electricity to the heart can do—to prolong things.”

His grogginess evaporated as his hand suddenly shot between his legs. Relief slackened his face. “Thank God.”

I pulled back. “What? What is it?”

Q shook his head, alertness battling back his weakness. “Nothing. I’m still in one piece. That’s all.” He sighed heavily, looking worn-out and barely conscious. His eyes narrowed. “Why is there blood on your cheek?”

Because it was my blood to take.

Franco appeared in the doorway, using the dreaded walking stick he’d scorned before. “Ambulance is on its way.” Smiling at Q, he added, “You should’ve seen her, Mercer. Fucking scary as hell. But she killed him for you.” Franco glared in my direction. His eyes blatantly vowing that what happened downstairs would remain between us.

I nodded, accepting his promise. I’d done what I needed to do. Q didn’t need to know the details.

Q’s face darkened, overshadowed with the strain of talking. “What?” He growl-croaked, “You killed Lynx? That’s his blood on your face?”

I made him believe my lies and stole his life.

I nodded, fierce pride resonating in my heart. “He stole you from me. He had to die. And I had to be the one to do it.” Taking his hand, I squeezed. “I know you’ll understand, and I know you’ll accept when I say it’s done and I don’t want to talk about it.”

Q flinched, untangling his arm from the blanket. With a shaky hold, he cupped the back of my neck. I bowed over him, never looking away from his eyes. “What did you do, Tess? Please tell me you didn’t undo my hard work.” He stopped, sucking in a breath. His eyes were tight with agony. “Tell me you didn’t ruin yourself by killing him for me. You didn’t have to do that. I never wanted—”

“It won’t happen.” I knew his fears. He worried I’d relapse for hurting another like killing Blonde Hummingbird. But I wouldn’t because I’d done the right thing. I was happy. I accepted my brutality and would gladly live with the knowledge I wasn’t pure anymore. I was never pure. And if I went to hell for saving the man I loved—then that was the final debt I would pay.

I kissed him softly. “Taking his life granted me power. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m in control of my fate, and I give it to you wholeheartedly.” My stomach clenched, remembering his letter. “But if you ever leave me a note again, after planning your death and telling me nothing of the dangers you’re in, I’ll kill you, too.”

Q leaned back on the cushion, his energy rapidly fading. “I did that to protect you.”

“Well—I want to protect you in return.” My heart lurched realizing just how vulnerable we all were. How quickly life passed—how much I wanted to live it. “Marry me, Q. Now. I don’t care where or how.”

Q’s fingers added pressure to the base of my skull, bringing me down to kiss him. His lips moved against mine in a dance belonging completely to us. His tongue entered sweetly, seductively. He didn’t kiss with misery or happiness or lust.

He kissed me with reverence. Thankfulness.

When we broke apart, he murmured, “Je t’ai déjà épousée dans mon cœur, Tess. Au moment où j'ai posé les yeux sur toi, tu étais à moi pour toujours, mon amour.” I’ve already married you in my heart, Tess. The moment I set eyes on you, you were mine forever.

Looking over my head, he said to Franco, “Call Suzette. Find out where she organised the wedding.”

“Wait—Suzette?”

Q smiled, reopening the small cut on his lower lip. “We’re getting married tomorrow. Suzette’s been arranging it.” His last reservoir of strength petered out, leaving him pale and breathing hard.

Franco towered over us, two injured warriors together. “I’ll call her, and I’ll do anything else that needs to be done—but you—you’re going to the hospital.”

Q opened his lips to argue but winced as Franco deliberately patted his sliced up legs beneath the blanket. “Hospital, Mercer. Then wedding. Don’t make me kick your ass.”

A tense moment existed before Q nodded. “I think that ass kicking can wait, don’t you?” His gaze fell to Franco’s missing thumb. A rosebud of blood decorated the bandage where his digit used to be. Q frowned, taking in the sling and Franco’s cane. “Thank you for coming.”

Franco shrugged. “Couldn’t be late to this party. Look how much fun you were having.”

I cringed at the morbid humour, but Q smiled. “The fun I could’ve done without—but I’m grateful to you, Franco.” His eyes fell on me. “And forever in your debt, Tess. You should never have had to do that on my behalf. I’m sorry.”

Sirens sliced the morning peace. A flashing ambulance pulled into the driveway, its lights visible through the windows. Kissing Q’s cheek, I whispered, “No apologises. I did what I needed to do.” I nuzzled his cheek. “Your chariot awaits, maître. And your bride will be with you every step until she becomes your wife.”

Q’s body stiffened, fighting off a wave of pain. “And once you’re my wife—you intend to leave my side?”

My heart was no longer a heart—it became a beacon, beaming with brightness, lighting the way to my future. “When I’m your wife, our lives will become one. I won’t be by your side. I’ll be inside you. Forever.”

Q sucked in a breath, his eyes glowing with love. “In that case—get me to the hospital.”