Quintessentially Q

He’d found me. Just like I knew he would. But now I could never be worthy. I killed. I hurt women instead of saving them. I was the exact opposite of Q and he’d kill me if he ever found out.

I hyperventilated, panting hard. “Don’t. Please. I didn’t mean to. I know you can’t forgive me. But don’t kill me. Don’t.”

The bugs chomped harder at my flesh, tearing another scream from my lungs. “You need to beg if you want something to stop the craving, little girl.” White Man appeared and I knew what I had to do.

I grabbed at Q, fumbling with eager hands, so desperate for the calm fog. I’d do anything. Be anyone. Beg. Steal. Lie. Kill.

Oh, God. I’d kill again if I could escape this madness.

“Give me what I need. Please!”

Q cursed, hoisting me into a sitting position with his strong arms. The liquid in my lungs drained from horizontal to vertical, making my cough even worse.

He clutched my shoulders. “Don’t panic. Tess. Stop. You’re safe. You’re safe with me, mon amour.” My love.

He lied. I’d never be safe. Never be free from the haunting of my villainy. Don’t look at me. Don’t see the horrors I’ve committed.

“Tess. Goddammit, esclave.” He shook me, his fingers digging deep into my shoulders. His touch wriggled with beetles, nipping at me, devouring me alive.

If the guilt doesn’t kill me the bugs will.

“Stop it. Relax. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Q captured my chin, holding me still and every single abhorrent thing I’d done smothered me, sending me into a free-fall.

I pulled the trigger.

I swung the baseball bat.

I scratched.

I tortured.

I inflicted never ending agony on those girls.

My heart destroyed itself with every memory, unable to withstand the pain. White Man entered my thoughts. “What did I tell you about pain? Run from it like a good little slave. Do anything in your power to avoid it. Be good. Obedient. Otherwise I’ll make it twenty times worse for you.” He threw away the pliers he held and brandished a welding torch, holding it near my body.

I wanted to curl up and die. I waited for the burn, the melting of my skin. I deserved to be set on fire—burned like a witch. I was a witch. Cursed and riddled with evil.

“Do it. Kill me! I don’t deserve to live.”

“Tess, f**k, you’re killing me. Come back to me. Stop this now!” Q’s voice changed from pleading to a roar.

I trembled. I’d never been so close to death. I felt as if I was one step away from my grave. All I had to do was let the guilt consume me and then I’d be blessedly free. Tarantulas crept over me with their furry legs and I gave up. I relinquished my sanity.

Q may have found me, but I lost my mind to what I’d done. No amount of help or cure could save me.

I let go of my straining grip on life and fell. Falling, falling, surrendering to death.

But something happened.

A wall sprang up from nowhere. Soaring into being, faster and faster. Brick by brick, mortar by mortar, a huge impenetrable barrier sprang up between me and the horrible memories. Me and what I’d become. Me and Q.

I fell deep into the heart of this newly made tower. It was lonely. It was dark. It echoed with sounds of chains and irons—being fortified with barbwire—completely impassable.

The second the noise stopped and the tower was fully erected all I felt was heavenly release. Nothing could touch me. No guilt. No pain. No memories of what I’d done.

I was free.

Opening my eyes, I stared deep into Q’s gaze, trying to figure out what just happened. He searched mine, his face hard and tired and so, so handsome.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

His hand on my face was so familiar, but his touch was never gentle. He’d caused me pain and misery. And my tower did not permit such things.

The rest of my soul withdrew to huddle deep in the structure, sucking every last emotion, every single thing that I’d ever felt deep inside.

A void grew wide, creating a moat between the outside world and my heavily armoured mind. The guilt was gone. The pain and memories hidden. But so had everything else.

I waited for the feeling of home. The love I once felt for Q, or even fear. But there was nothing but a large cavernous hole. Everything that made me me, had disappeared deep inside my bombproof barricade.

The moat filled with creepy crawlies as the steady itch of needing something came back. My mind might be safe, but my body was being eaten alive by insects.

Q sighed, stroking my cheek. His pale eyes never stilled—swirling with so many emotions. “You’re safe. I won’t ever let anything happen to you again.”

The promise reeked of guilt. It was a promise he’d made before and a promise he broke. My emotions were no longer accessible—hidden behind this thick barrier, and I sat there feeling nothing.

Nothing.

My trust in him was broken. My belief that he would always be there for me—my monster in the dark— was gone.

But although I knew it should rip my heart out, I only felt empty, cold, forgotten.

I wanted to ignore the coolness I felt toward him. I wanted the blankness and wall to disappear. I wanted to remember. But if I did, I’d die from the weight of guilt. I’d perish from everything I’d done.

Focusing inward, I rattled the door of this newly formed tower, looking for a way out. But there was no exit. No key to get free. Whatever my mind had done to protect me, it had shut down everything else.

My heart was boarded up and unfeeling. The same heart that tumbled with lunacy and need for Q. The same organ that ballooned with madness for this man who beat me, f**ked me, wanted me.

Now it deflated, a shrivelled raison-like thing, hanging useless in my chest.

Q ran his hand down my cheek, avoiding the fresh bandage on my neck. His fingertips whispered down my arm before capturing my hand. He flinched when I curled my fingers, avoiding his touch.

I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want any sort of contact. I didn’t need it. All I needed was to be left alone. Alone forever in my unfeeling tower.

Pain etched his eyes as he swallowed hard. His five o’clock shadow was scruffier than normal, his hair unkept and longer. He kept his eyes trained on my hand before leaning forward, bringing the shadow of his body over mine. His arm tucked under my shoulder blades, gathering me in a crushing embrace.

I squirmed as claustrophobia clawed, then stiffened as I forced myself to allow him comfort. I may not want this, but he did. And I wasn’t such a shallow bitch to deny him.

Somehow, I’d gone from Tess who cared to a blank replica and I had no desire to go back. I wouldn’t survive the past.

Q squeezed me harder, hurting my ribs, flaring my bruises. I didn’t move away, but I didn’t move to console him either. His large body pressed hard against mine and all I could focus on was the vacuum my soul was in. The vacancy deep inside. No longer did I suffer.

You deserve to be in pain. I had no right to forget what I did. Pain was my life-long affliction.

Pain.

“Pain is bad, little girl. Run from pain.” White Man blazed into my mind, stealing me from Q’s arms and the safety of his home and dumping me back into the rank dungeon.

The vacuum suddenly reversed and spewed every splinter of pain into me. The trauma of the drugs, the nightmare of doing their bidding—all came back with hammers, impaling me with stakes.

“No. I can’t take it!”

My throat seized, my lungs drowned with liquid, and I went nuts. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t go through it again. I wanted my tower. I wanted to go back to the void and never feel such agony again.

The bugs roared and multiplied, scurrying over me, their pinchers and claws dragging me back to hell. I struggled to run, but something held me tight. Held me firm for the bugs to find me.

“You took my life. You’re just like them.” Blonde Hummingbird floated before my eyes with a bloody bullet hole in her forehead. “You did what they asked. Why? Why did I have to die?”

“Pain used to be your saving grace, didn’t it?” White Man appeared over Q’s shoulder, waggling a finger at me. “What did I teach you? Pain is bad. Don’t make me get the pliers.”

Arms tightened around me and I flipped. “No. No. Don’t. You don’t need to do that. I’ll behave. I promise.”

“Fuck, esclave. Stop it!” Q shook me so hard my teeth rattled. “Stay with me. Don’t listen to whatever figments are taunting you. Please, I beg you! I f**king beg you to fight.”

I opened my eyes at the agony in his tone. Q’s eyes were red-rimmed; shadows darkened his haggard face. His angled jaw was locked tight and forehead furrowed with over-whelming concern.

“Fight. Don’t give in. Okay?” He bent his head, whispering his lips against mine. His eyes imprisoned me. I froze, trying to control my erratic gulps against his mouth. “I’ll do anything. Tell me what I can do to make this better,” he pleaded.

I searched my brain for answers. Something that would help me back from the scrambled eggs my mind had become. But nothing made sense. I saw no quick fix. No way out of the maze I was trapped in.