I WAS BEING a fucking bastard.

I knew that.

I knew it, but I couldn’t change it.

Every time I tried to talk about what hurt me, my throat clammed up and my heart bucked out of control. When Tess had tattooed me last night, she’d given me more than I could’ve asked for. She gave me time to sort my shit out and the courage in which to do it.

I wouldn’t return home without having the balls to get this over with and tell her. She deserved to know, and I deserved to make peace with it so I could move the fuck on with my life.

Placing my wedding ring on the desk (ignoring medical protocol for new tattoo healing just like Tess had), I traced the dainty lettering on my finger left by my incredible wife and wrenched open the locked cupboard beneath the stationary drawer.

I had a private stash for days full of stressful business. I rarely touched it and never thought I’d be stressed where Tess was concerned—not now she was safe and forever mine.

Last night, I had full intentions of getting ridiculously drunk. I’d even taken my time selecting a perfect bottle of liquor. I’d sat in my leather chair and glowered at the pool table where I’d first hurt Tess. But something had stopped me from pouring the first shot.

Yes, I wanted to drink to rid this crushing desire inside me. But I also needed to be an adult. I wasn’t a fucking animal—as much as I gave myself that excuse. I was human. I was a man. These new needs had just fucked me up, and it was time to tell them to piss off because I didn’t know how else to deal with them.

However, if I drank, that conviction would fade. I might actually get on my knees in front of Tess and tell her everything I’d been keeping a secret. And no fucking way did she need to see me that way. Who knew what she would do when I finally found the spine to tell her.

No, alcohol wasn’t the right path last night. I needed to be truly honest with myself and see how deep these new desires went before numbing them.

It’d taken hours. My mind had raced. A headache had formed. But at least an answer had solidified.

Now, I knew.

I knew that it wasn’t a superficial dream. Somehow, this craving had become a part of me, and until I knew why I couldn’t have what I wanted, I wouldn’t give up hope. Sitting downstairs alone, I’d made a deal with my beast.

I promised that if I could collar it for a time, shove its dark needs deep, deep inside me, then perhaps I might be worthy of getting what I wanted.

It was a fucking ridiculous thought. A shrink would have a field day with me. But it was how I felt, what I believed, and nothing would convince me otherwise.

Frederick knocked on my door, letting himself in before I approved—like he always did. The day had been busy, going over a new merger and making sure every last bit of paperwork was finalised for the new investments on our books.

He knew more than I did about what I was going through. Not because I’d told him but because he was the one who’d guessed before I had.

Smug bastard.

Pinching two crystal glasses on the silver tray by my bookcase, he settled into the Eames chair facing my desk and wiggled the two goblets for me to fill.

I obeyed without speaking.

Pulling the expensive liquor from my cupboard, I sloshed a generous amount into both. Stoppering the bottle, I picked up the cool glass and clinked with his.

With a nod, we threw back the fire.

Hissing between my teeth, I immediately refilled and drank again.

My friend’s eyes burned into me.

I wanted him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He’d never given me room to mope in my past, and he sure as hell wouldn’t now. He believed I’d grown up; lost my diabolical need to hurt. What he didn’t know was I was better at negotiating deals with the monster living inside me. Those needs weren’t gone. The anger and rage at the filth of the world hadn’t faded. If I could trade places with one of the mercenaries I’d hired and kill a few traffickers with my bare hands, I would. I wasn’t growing soft in my old age. I was growing more and more lethal.

Tess recognized it.

I recognized it.

It was yet another reason why I’d condemned myself to this future. Because the alternative was too fucking terrifying to contemplate.

“Have you told her yet?” Frederick refilled his glass, keeping pace with me. Thank hell the helicopter was on standby to take me home because we would be over the limit within minutes.

Fuck it.

Last night, I’d restrained myself. I’d had the strength to soul search and compartmentalize what I needed to say to Tess. Tonight was about giving myself some freedom.

If Frederick wanted to drink with me, then fine and fucking dandy. “No.”

“Will you tell her?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

I shrugged, taking another shot.

“You have to get it out in the open, Q. You’ve never kept any secrets before.” He massaged his neck from working all day. “Besides, she’s already guessed. She said she’d seen the paperwork. She’s smart.”

“I know she’s smart. But I’ve given no indication of wanting this before now. I even told her at the start of our relationship that I didn’t want it at all. Why would she put two and two together?”

“Because she’s your wife and she loves you. She feels what you do.”

I shook my head. “She feels what I want her to feel.”

Could she have guessed? Would she tell me if she had?

Frederick laughed. “If you believe that, then you’re an idiot. Wives know more than us. A lot more.” Tapping the paperwork proud and centre on my desk, he added, “This charity proves that you can have what you want just in a different way.”

“I don’t want it that way.”

“Well, it might be the only way unless you man the fuck up and find out once and for all.”

I tossed back a double, wincing as the burn incinerated my insides. “I already know what I’m doing wrong.”

Frederick paused. “You do?”

I nodded. “I’m hurting her. Whenever we fuck, I go too far. She says she likes it but what if she’s lying? What if she’d said no...at the start? Would I have found the strength to stop? Would I be better now?”

“If you start chasing answers to those questions, you’ll drive yourself insane.” Frederick slowed his drinking while I threw back another and another.

My vision lost its sharpness, but I didn’t give a damn. If I had to crawl home, I’d be fine with that.

“I don’t need to chase. I have answers.”

“Don’t torture yourself, Q. That stupid conclusion you came to last week isn’t the reason.”

“Fuck, it has to be. What else?”

“Anything more believable, that’s what.” Frederick suddenly stood up. “You know what? Go home. Talk to your wife. I’m not doing this with you. Only she knows exactly what you guys get up to. She’s the one who will tell you you’re being a fucking idiot.”

I stood up, bracing my fists on the desktop. “Don’t call me a fucking idiot.”

Frederick chuckled, moving toward the door. “Go home, Q. Talk to her. It’s the only thing you can do to get this mess sorted out.”

He didn’t let me retaliate.

Slipping through the door, he closed it with a soft click.

I itched to throw his empty glass at the wood but refrained. Just.

He was wrong that going home and talking to Tess was the only thing I could do.

I had other alternatives.

Such as sitting here drinking and finding liquid courage to do what was needed.

Forgoing the glass, I tipped the bottle straight to my lips.

Who needed a goblet when it all ended up in my stomach anyway?