Текст книги "Twisted Together"
Автор книги: Pepper Winters
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
Tess had been resplendent. Accepting my violence with the beauty of a slave who’d been to hell and back. She lived only to make a devil happy.
My mouth was dry, but my cock was rock hard. I couldn’t shake the image of Tess’s mouth wrapped around my length; I still felt her dream-lips sucking, her tongue licking…taking.
Fuck.
I wanted to tear out my black soul and burn it. I wanted to crucify everything disgusting inside. Maybe if I purged myself with fire, I might get rid of the nastiness.
Redemption.
I needed to find some way to redeem myself and halt this path—the road leading to becoming Quincy Mercer II—true born son of Quincy Mercer, the raping bastard.
Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the room and not my rapid descent into purgatory.
Something woke me.
Something caused my body to switch straight into killer and protector. I had to stay vigilant just in case one of the many assholes I’d dealt with had come for me—and they would. I knew the underworld they existed in; retribution would be on its way. In a way the waiting was worse. I wanted it over with—so I could kill.
My hands twitched, gripping the gun harder, training it on shadowy corners of the room.
“No. Please—”
My heart skipped as Tess seized beside me. Her eyes screwed up, a dew of sweat gleaming on her upper lip. Even in the darkness I made out every perfect sweep of her eyelashes, following the soft curves of her body.
Her.
She’d woken me.
I should’ve known—it was hardly a new occurrence. Her voice must’ve plaited with my dream, lacing fantasy with reality. Her pleas had been real, but not for me. Somehow I’d taken the past and Tess’s amazing willingness to give me what I needed, and twisted it with how she was now. She would never say no to me. I learned that the hard way.
Her lies had confused the shit out of me, making me lose complete control. I could blame her for everything—but ultimately it was all on me.
Me, the cocksucker who didn’t deserve her.
My back went rigid as she squirmed. Her obvious distress sickened me, yet in my dream I’d relished it—wanted more of her cries and begs.
I hadn’t cared she didn’t want me. I loved that she didn’t. I loved the non-consent.
I’m heartless and fucking cruel.
Suddenly, my body weighed too much. The migraine had broken thanks to the brief sleep, but the dregs lived in my skull—puncturing my brain with tiny needles. At least my body punished me. I’d earned the pain.
Tess. Goddammit, I couldn’t look at her without dying of guilt.
You burned her. You almost fucking raped her.
I dropped the gun onto the mattress, letting my body sag. My hands disappeared into my hair, holding a mind churning with so many black things.
Her body jolted but she stayed deep asleep—too trapped by her nightmare to wake.
My arms tensed, wishing there was a trespasser in the night—I would make him bleed. I would tear him fucking apart.
The migraine pulsed, gathering power now I was awake. A fresh wave of sickness spread its nausea-inducing fingers up my back, latching around my throat. I wanted to fall to my knees and spew my fucking guts out for what I’d done.
Guilt could kill a man—I’d never been free of the fester all my life but now it’d grown monumental.
I groaned as a lance of pain hit behind my eyes. I hadn’t had headache this bad since Tess had been stolen. And I had no one to direct my rage onto but myself. This time the motherfucker who had to die for hurting her was me.
Fuck, I missed Frederick. I missed his cool-headedness, rational thinking, even his crazy ideas. He kept me sane. I hated to think how I would’ve coped without him in the wings. Keeping me focused, reminding me I was strong enough to ignore the needs and be a better man.
Picking up the gun, I ran my fingertips over the weighty metal, stroking the weapon that’d been used to take the lives of sadistic men. I’d fought against them. I’d ended their horror, giving the women back to their loved ones. All apart from one.
I looked over at Tess; her voice popped into my head.
“My name is Tess Snow. Not Sweetie, or Tessie, or Honey. I’m a woman only now realizing what she’s capable of. I’m no one’s daughter. I’m no one’s girlfriend. I’m no one’s possession. I belong to me, and for the first time, I know how powerful that is.”
I relived the moment where Tess had returned, bowing to me in the foyer. She’d taken away all my power by giving me all of hers.
“I came back for the man I see inside the master. The man who thinks he’s a monster because of his twisted desires. I came back for Q. I came back to be his esclave, but also to be his equal. I came back to be your everything.”
I squinted at my palm where I’d sliced the flesh, making a blood-oath with Tess. I’d sworn to honour her, cherish her, protect her. I’d married her in my heart that very second in my office, sharing everything that I was while hiding everything I could. She’d come back to me knowing nothing of the real me. The monster.
She trusted you despite everything and look at how you repaid her!
My body stiffened. I have to fix this.
It was my duty to fix what I’d broken—not just today, but for everything I’d done and everything that’d happened.
Tess slept on, giving me space to untangle my thoughts. After the incident, I locked myself in the bathroom and spent an hour under scalding hot water, trying to expel the evil from my veins. When I’d finally had the balls to come out, she’d been asleep—curled up like a homeless kitten hugging a pillow.
I hadn’t meant to fall beside her and close my eyes, but the migraine forced me into a spiral of unconsciousness, giving my imagination time to haunt me while my body healed.
“I won’t! Kill me. I don’t care. I won’t!” Tess shuddered, her voice shattering the silence.
My muscles tensed at her outburst; she fell silent. Watching her, I drank in the slightness of her arms, the twitch of terror going through her limbs. Her body overheated, yet her teeth chattered with cold.
I couldn’t stop fury bubbling in my chest. “Tess. Je veux te sauver mais je n’ai pas la moindre idée de comment le faire. Si je pouvais briser chaque horloge pour remonter le temps je le ferais si seulement je pouvais te voir sourire et être heureuse à nouveau.” I want to save you but have no fucking clue how. If I could smash every clock to rewind time, I would—if only to see you smile and be happy again.
A horrible thought barrelled into me. Maybe the only way to make her happy was to let her go? Maybe I needed to stop being so fucking selfish and let her walk away—from me, my life, from every bad thing that’d happened.
My heart twisted into a painful knot.
I’m not fucking strong enough to do that.
I was cold enough to admit I would rather keep Tess, even with her soul in tatters, than let her go. And that just made me hate myself even more.
Fuck!
She thrashed suddenly, throwing her arm out, catching my chest with her sharp nails.
I hissed in a breath. A keening moan escaped her.
Goddammit, I might never have the courage to set her free—but I wouldn’t sit back and let her circle further into madness.
Tucking the gun under the pillow, I scooted closer, grabbing her clammy form. She fought, but her thin arms and floppy legs were no match. My body wrapped around hers, dragging her into me.
“No. Don’t hurt me. Not again. I can’t take it again.”
Every implore caused the ache in my chest to pound with boulder-sized guilt. I no longer had a ribcage but a gaping, vast hole that I had no fucking clue how to fix.
Even though her words weren’t meant for me, they were too apt—the perfect conclusion of our fucked-up relationship.
Locking my arms, I held her close. Sliding onto my side, I tucked her back to my front, wrapping a leg around hers. Spooned and cocooned—protected by my body.
“It’s okay, esclave. I’m going to fix this. I don’t know how yet…but I will.”
Tess didn’t respond. Even with the heat of the room and warmth from the sheets, her body was ice. Worse than ice: it was dead—sucked into a dream where the only thing she wished for was to die.
Another shudder passed through her. My palm twitched with the urge to slap her awake, but I knew from experience it didn’t work. It only made me feel like shitless scum. Instead, I pressed my mouth against her soft curls, swallowing my anguish.
I wanted to fucking scream at how broken everything was. This was torture. Worst fucking crucifixion imaginable.
Don’t accept it. Don’t fucking put up with this.
I wanted to fight on her behalf. I wanted to tear her brain apart and delete what I’d done. Now she’d seen what I really wanted how could I hide? How could I ever convince her I would never raise my hand to her again—even though I would always dream of it?
Her body stiffened; I locked my arms tighter. I was ready for this part. It was the same night after night.
The nightmare came in threes: first the screams, then the pleas, and lastly the acceptance of absolute terror.
“Je suis là.” I’m here. I didn’t know if she heard—but at least she wasn’t going through this alone.
Her body seized like an epileptic. My biceps ached from holding, anchoring her to me, adrift in the storm of nightmares.
“You win. I beg. I beg you to end my life.”
The tears began. No sound, just a soft waterfall trailing her cheeks. Droplet after droplet of sadness. “Kill me!”
My stomach churned. I hated being so fucking helpless. Hated lying there unable to do anything.
Pins and needles stabbed my fingertips as I held her too hard. The protectiveness in my blood drummed with need to desecrate her demons. Her vulnerability angered me; I struggled briefly to see her as the strong fighter and not a broken slave.
Tess walked such a fine line in my life—she had to be strong, but not too strong to tempt me to break her. She had to be submissive, but not too weak that it called to the monster inside. Such a fine line where one slip meant either being shoved away in repulsion or dragged closer in poisonous obsession.
Not for the first time, I worried I was completely psychotic and in desperate need of help.
At least she wasn’t giving me mixed signals while she slept. And I no longer needed to find out the truth. I knew.
She hated pain.
Deplored pain.
The one thing that’d brought us together was the one thing driving us apart.
A flutter of her breath tickled my chest. I glanced down. The palm print from when I struck her in the hallway looked almost black in the gloom—outlined on her white thigh like a curse. The red burns from the wax on her breasts were beautifully horrific.
My heart banged with disgust and passion.
You’re sick.
I bowed my head.
I know.
I’d wanted the truth, but Tess hid it too well. She had no idea my instincts would pick up on her tales, messing with my mind. The beast couldn’t tell what was real and what was not—driving me further into the dark.
But now she knew who I truly was. Knew what I’d kept hidden. The starkness of her lies were nothing to how black I really ran.
“You should’ve told me, Tess,” I murmured against her hair. “You helped me find my humanness but you took it away with your lies.”
My eyes flared. Was the unfixable fixable?
Maybe I had to let her hurt me again—pain for pain. Give her equal power. It worked previously, but not…completely. The research I’d done on Tess’s emotional shutdown stated she suffered symptoms of Dissociative Disorder. It wasn’t something curable overnight—if ever. Sure, I’d forced her to return to life, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to hide again. I had to go deeper than that. I had to break every chain of the disorder, changing her impulses from shutting down to believing in me.
I wouldn’t be able to repeat letting her emotionally and physically scar me—that had been a onetime deal. I’d never be able to give up control again.
Damn fucking Frederick and his ideas. It was his fault my mind was messed up. He’d made me become this…this thing.
I had to come up with something else—something chain-smashing, lie-killing, life-fixingly perfect.
My teeth ground as Tess stiffened, shaking her head against my arms. She mumbled something incomprehensible. The nightmare was coming to an end.
The bed suddenly felt too soft, too reminiscent of the mattress I lay upon while Tess coaxed me closer to death with the aid of floggers and cat o’ nine tails.
Untangling myself from her, I swung my legs over the side and dragged hands through my hair. With heavy limbs and a heavier heart, I made my way to the other side of the bed.
She looked so innocent and delicate; a blonde wraith sent to tempt and destroy me. But beneath the façade was a fighter—the same fighter who’d turned my world upside down, made me fall in love, and collared my demons.
I needed to get that fighter back.
Tess curled inward, looking like an ethereal being about to fade from this world. She was the sparrow I’d freed but never caught. The one bird who’d put me in a cage instead.
My eyes fell to my chest. I traced the red healing ‘T’ over my heart, before following the inked feathers and beady eyes of my favourite bird.
The symbol never failed to make me feel better about myself. I didn’t see a tattoo, I saw a promise; a message written on my skin, giving me faith to keep going—knowing I was better than my thoughts. Better than my fucking fantasies. I’d proven it by saving women I could so easily have broken.
My hands fell to bare skin on my right side where no clouds or barbwire existed. It wasn’t fair to leave that part unwritten. That part belonged to Tess and my future.
Tess’s body jolted as she slammed onto her back; her mouth opened in a silent scream. Sucking in greedy breaths, she cried, “No. Not again. I won’t—”
Goddammit, I couldn’t listen to this night after night. I couldn’t torture myself lying beside her when I couldn’t save her.
I would fucking save her, and in turn, I’d restore my self-worth.
Any second now she’d wake and hurl herself back to life. Any second now I would catch her and hold her while she sobbed from whatever filth she’d relived.
She would turn to me for help. And I would be there for her.
You almost raped her today. You’re a fucking asshole.
The memory compounded my headache. How could I want to hurt someone who ruled me?
My stomach knotted, acknowledging the truth. Tess had so much power over me. More than anyone in my entire life.
She’s my fucking queen.
The darkness gave way to light for a brief moment—the roles switched in my head. Abusive master to willing slave.
My eyes snapped wide. I snorted in the darkness. I’m the esclave.
Her messy hair snagged on the pillows, throwing herself onto her side. Her tiny hands fisted while her body turned in on itself.
Standing over her, I forced myself to pick up the splintered pieces of my heart from this afternoon. I was done suffering the gauntlet of right and wrong. No matter how much I wanted to accept her flawless gift of absolute ownership, I wanted more.
I deserved more.
I was fucking besotted. She would never just be a slave. And I would never just be her master. Our connection went past flesh and blood. It was soul-deep and ever-lasting and I refused to fuck it up with one mistake.
We’d reached a pinnacle in our relationship. The ugly truth was aired. It was time for decisions.
Fuck letting lies win. Fuck letting the past ruin our future.
Tess and I were stronger than words. And I refused to let them wedge us apart and destroy the only good thing in my life.
I would stop this—end all this decay before there was nothing left but rottenness and nothing to salvage.
I would start a new beginning. A clean slate.
I had to do something drastic.
My eyes widened. You already know what to do. Fuck, why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?
My headache kept pace with my heart as I glared at Tess. I’d wasted so much time.
Lefebvre and the shower.
It worked last time.
Could it work again?
Energy exploded through my limbs. Looking at Tess one more time, I stormed into the bathroom.
Turning on the light, the glare stung my eyes as I hunted for my clothes. Collecting my trousers off the floor, I jerked them on, followed by a black shirt I’d unpacked before.
My reflection showed a man sleep-dishevelled and wired to his fucking eyeballs, but for once there was a glimmer of hope. Glorious fucking hope.
This is wrong. Wrong on so many levels.
Ignoring the seeping worry in my veins, I didn’t give myself time to second guess. Fishing into my back pocket, I grabbed my cell-phone and punched in a number I’d known by heart since I was five years old.
It took a while to connect. The ringing sent spasms of pain through my head. I stabbed a finger at my reflection. “This has to fucking work, so don’t screw it up.” The mirror stole my threat, echoing back the image of a lunatic. Doubt reared its unwanted head. My eyes looked almost soulless; my five o’ clock shadow unkempt. The tiny scars on my cheeks, brow, and nose glistened like tiny crescent moons.
Goddammit, pick up the fucking phone.
The number rang and rang.
“Bonjour?” a sleepy female voice came down the line.
About time.
“Suzette. You’re going to do something for me.”
Shuffling, followed by a yawn. “You need something at two in the morning, and you’re not even here?” Her tone mixed with annoyance and obedience. “Did you forget something?”
Before Tess came into my life Suzette was the only female I let get close. We’d never been more than saver and slave, then employee and employer, but our connection had grown to friendship. She pushed me even when it was dangerous to do so. She saw the real me—the one I never acknowledged—and encouraged me regardless.
When Tess arrived it was Suzette who gave me permission to be a bastard. What were her words? Be like them for a while, because even on your worst days, you don’t rival what they did to me.
I’d never asked her what she’d lived through; I didn’t need to. She told me in her own way—in the panic attacks and sudden terror of my temper. But beneath the small fractures, she was strong.
“I need you to arrange a wedding.”
Suzette giggled. “I thought you eloped so you didn’t have to do any of that?”
I imagined her rolling her eyes as if I was some stupid child who’d forgotten his lunch for the day. She’d taken the role of caring for me a bit too well.
“That was the original plan. Oui.”
Another laugh. “But now you’ve changed your mind and want an over-the-top, completely impractical wedding?” A pause. “Did Tess refuse your crazy idea of marrying in the middle of nowhere?”
I snorted. “No. She didn’t refuse.” Even after everything I’d done today she still wanted me. The knowledge would never fail to rip the breath right from my lungs.
“It’s hardly a dream location for a girl. She deserves more than a pelican for a witness.”
“Suzette,” I growled. “Instead of undermining me, how about you agree to fucking help.”
My mind raced, forming the crazy idea faster and faster. Tess would have every reason to kill me. She would probably try.
I ran a hand down my face, shaking my head. God—this was fucking dangerous.
“So—why do you need my help?” Suzette prompted.
My mind switched from what I was about to do to the wedding. I didn’t want big—hell, I didn’t want anything more than someone joining Tess’s life to mine—but Tess had said she wanted Suzette there.
She wanted Brax, too.
No fucking way was that little cunt going to be at my wedding. There was only so much I would tolerate.
I paced over the tiles, gripping my chin in thought. The original plan was still my favourite—but I wanted to give Tess the world. And I would.
“You’re going to arrange our wedding.”
“What?” Something banged in the background; Suzette yelped.
My heart exploded. Intruders. Fucking traffickers.
“Suzette!”
Suzette made a sucking noise. “Sorry. It’s dark. I ran into the door. Bashed my fingers.”
“Goddammit…” I breathed out heavily. Franco left a decent team of security in Blois but who knew what the underworld morons would do to get to me. I didn’t want any more blood from people I cared about.
My patience was wearing thin. I wanted them to make a move now, so I didn’t have to sit in the shadows and wait.
Pushing the urge for a fight out of my head, I demanded, “Pay attention. Did you hear me? You’re in charge of the wedding.”
A postponement really pissed me off. I still suffered the overwhelming need to make Tess mine in every way possible—to both man and beast—but this new plan…this plan that could royally fucking backfire in my face…it might be everything we needed.
To pull it off I had to embrace a little of what I always ran from. To make it work I had to make Tess believe.
“Yes, I heard you. You’re coming home while I arrange it, right? I need time.”
“No, we’re not coming home. I expect you do it quickly.” How long did it take to arrange a simple ceremony?
“I can’t do it quickly. If you want to give Tess the dream, I need at least a month.”
“No, fucking way. You have five days, Suzette.” My heart galloped, fixated on the idea growing rapidly out of control. Every second sent me hurtling into the unknown. “You have five days to arrange a suitable wedding. Invite who you think should be there. You’re in charge.”
A surprised squeak hurt my ear. “Five days? No, there’s no way—”
“No arguing. Do it.”
I made eye contact with myself in the mirror. Do you seriously think you can pull this off?
That was the kicker. I didn’t know. If I was honest I was fucking terrified. But I had no choice. Tess couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t go on like this.
The only way forward was to go back.
Back to restart time.
Suzette grumbled, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something again.”
Because I am. Something that could mentally screw us up completely.
Suzette sucked in a breath. “Please tell me you’re not doing something crazy. Like releasing all your birds or letting Tess butcher you?”
My jaw locked. “You’re not to mention either of those two things. Ever. Again. Am I understood?” I shuddered involuntarily. I hated that Franco and Suzette saw me so weak. For a while, I worried I’d have to fire them, so I never had to look into their eyes and remember.
But they didn’t watch me with pity like I expected. If anything their loyalty and respect increased.
A soft sigh echoed down the line. “I’m sorry. Just—”
“I’m going. Five days, Suzette.”
“But! But, I have so many questions. Where do you want it? How many guests? What sort of vows?”
“That’s for you to figure out—”
“Wait! Whatever you’re doing, Q…just remember a person can only take so much before it’s all over.”
What the fuck?
I reared back, glaring at the phone as if it had somehow transmitted my idea down the line and into Suzette’s thoughts.
Suzette was intuitive. Just like Tess.
I looked over my shoulder to the bathroom door. Fuck, if I was so obvious, what if Tess sensed what I was about to do? What if she’d run again?
Urgency and fear hijacked my legs. I stalked to the door, wrenching it open to glare into the bedroom. Tess hadn’t moved, bundled tightly in the sheets.
I’m coming for you.
My headache raged with the finality of my decision.
I was done with the phone call. Every passing second was a second I could never get back. “Get it done, Suzette.” I hung up. Shoving the phone into my pocket, I sucked in a ragged breath.
This was it.
No turning back.
The moment I started this, I had to keep going. Regardless if Tess swore, cursed, or wanted me to die. She might absolutely despise me afterward—but that was a risk I would take. For her. I would willingly wear her hatred if it meant I cured her.
Turning on the tap, I splashed my face with cold water, glaring at my reflection. Man the fuck up and do it.
Pacing to the door, I tore it open. My hands opened and closed as adrenaline filtered through my limbs.
Tess didn’t wake, comatose with the devils inside her. If I had my way it would be the last nightmare she ever had. Tonight I would enter her thoughts and slaughter every last fucking one.
Prowling through the darkness, I found the wardrobe and wrenched it open. A small light came on, highlighting a multitude of dressing gowns. Towel, fleece, silk, and cotton.
Ripping out a silk sash, I ran the material through my fingertips. It was soft, cool, and black. Perfect.
Grabbing another belt from a cotton dressing gown, I yanked it to see if it stretched. Just a little give. Good to know.
With the belts clutched in my hands, I faced the bed.
Tess whimpered, her hands bunching the sheets. From here, her face was flushed, not deathly white. She was close to waking.
I moved forward, glad of the dark. It was my friend, my ally. The accomplice in what I was about to do.
The bed hit my knees. I climbed onto the mattress, crawling forward till I positioned myself hovering over Tess. My fists indented the bed either side of her head as she slept.
I allowed myself a moment to drink her in. To trace the almost disappeared bruises on her arms. To grow hard staring at her perfect figure. But it was the brand on her neck that enraptured me.
The angry burn settled the growling monster inside. She would never be able to remove the scar. She’d announced permanently she would never leave me. No matter what I did to her.
My heart lurched, willingly allowing a small flavour of anger and darkness to settle.
Tonight was the last night she would suffer. Tonight, I would kill the past and invoke a new future.
By doing to her what the other cocksuckers had done before.
I’d broken the hold of her rape by giving her a new memory. I took her in the shower—replacing Lefebvre with me—turning horror into something more liveable.
I didn’t think it would work. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do.
But it did work. And I had to believe it would again.
I was about to make Tess relive everything.
I was about to stamp out the past and replace each incident with a new memory.
I was about to kidnap my fiancée.
