Quintessentially Q
“Only because you refuse to fight. I’ve seen a lot of women come back from the shock you’re living with. It will take time, but I’ll be here for you. I’m not letting you go again.”
I sighed, wishing I didn’t have to do this. I didn’t want to break his heart, but he had to understand. My life as I knew it was over. It didn’t matter if a week past, a year, or a century. I was never stepping out of my tower again. I would explode with grief and I wasn’t strong enough to deal with such pain.
“I’m weak, Q. And I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m not in shock. This is who I am now.”
“Bullshit. You’re a fighter. So f**king fight, Tess. I’m getting tired of you shutting me out. Do you even know how long it’s been? Nine days! Nine f**king days where I’ve watched your body heal and your mind drift further and further away.”
He grabbed my hand, squeezing hard. “I’m not going to let you do that. Not after everything I’ve been through.”
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me, but you have to understand—”
“I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. All you need to know is, I’ll make you come back to me. I didn’t f**king kill the monster inside me so I could heal you and not have you whole.” He dragged hands through his hair. “I didn’t sacrifice everything just so you could live a half life!”
There was nothing for me to say. So I didn’t. I had no urge to fill the tense painful silence. I had no yearning to kiss Q and take away his hurt.
“I need to be alone,” I whispered.
Q snorted. “Alone. You need to be f**king alone. What about what I need? What about talking to me? Helping me understand what you went through so I can help you through it. Talk to me!”
I sucked in a deep breath and delivered my parting sever. “I’ll never talk about it. Not to you, or a shrink, or Suzette, or anyone. It never happened. It doesn’t exist. And if you keep forcing me, you’ll only kill me.”
Q’s chest strained, the fluttering inked sparrows looked as stricken as the man.
I swallowed hard. “Do you want to kill me? Because if you do, keep pushing me. Keep forcing me to live with the guilt. I won’t ever tell you because if I did, you’d kill me anyway. So, leave me alone. Go away. Let me to drift away in peace.”
Q’s shoulders rolled and his hand came up. Will he strike me? I sat taller just in case, ready to accept his blow.
But all the fight drained out of him and he climbed off the bed.
Without a word, he traversed the large bedroom and left. I didn’t move as the door clicked behind him. I didn’t feel relief or regret or any other emotion but blankness.
My mind, for the first time in forever, was clear. I had no residue of drugs, or agony of grief. My body was healing and I no longer wanted anything foreign in my blood stream.
Grabbing the IV in the back of my hand, I pulled it free and tossed it off the bed. It dangled and a single drip landed on the carpet.
Hours passed as I stared into the darkness.
Unfeeling.
Uncaring.
All alone.
*****
“Master, it’s been two weeks. You need to stop beating yourself up. It isn’t your fault.”
Something slammed against the wall and shattered into tinkling pieces.
Q raged, “All of this is my fault. Tess was the perfect person to go after in order to punish me. And it f**king worked because I want to kill myself for what’s happened to her. Look at her, Suzette. She might as well be dead for all the life left inside her.”
Suzette murmured, “She’ll come right. You’ll make her come back, you’ll see.”
“Don’t f**king patronize me. I’ve tried. I’ve been gentle and patient. I’ve slept beside her. I’ve offered to listen and help. But none of it does any good because she’s f**king blocked me out and I can’t find a way in.”
Something banged again and I kept my eyes tightly closed.
“I’m done. The moment we can send the girls home they’re gone. I don’t want to be reminded about any of this. I just want everything to go away.”
I dared crack open my eyes. Q paced, running anxious hands through his longer hair. It wasn’t the sleek pelt he normally favoured—now it was long and stuck up in all directions.
Suzette stood by the door with a tray in her hands. “Will you at least let me feed her?”
“She’s not awake. Believe me, I’ve watched her all night. Waiting for her to open those blank eyes so I can force her to talk to me.”
He told the truth. All night he’d stared, and all night I pretended to be asleep. Even though I told him every night that I needed to be alone, he never listened.
If he disobeyed me to get a reaction, then it wasn’t working. I wouldn’t argue. I had no energy to argue.
Suzette glided forward, smiling at me. “She’s awake, master. I’m surprised you didn’t sense she was faking.”
If I had any emotions left inside, I would’ve scowled at Suzette.
Q whirled to face me, then dashed to the edge of the bed. He took my hand. I wished he’d stop touching me. He squeezed my fingers. “Tell me what I can do to fix this. Fucking tell me right now. I’m done waiting for you to snap out of it.”
I waited for an urge to either squeeze him or pull away. But my tower kept me snug from everything. I hung in an eternity of nothingness.
“Just go. Return to work.”
His eyes delved into mine, but they weren’t soft and tender, they were agonizingly sharp. “My work is in ruins. Did you know that? I slandered the company’s reputation all in the name of saving you.”
“I’m sorry. Go live your life before you knew me then. Before I ruined everything for you.”
He looked away before roaring, “I had no f**king life before you. You are my life. Without you, I might as well take a shotgun to my head and join you in the dirt because, Tess, if you leave me—if you’re so f**king weak not to fight, then that is what will happen to me. You’ll crucify me.”
He leaned closer, bringing with him the smell of citrus and desperation. “So go ahead, esclave. Take my life as I’m not fit for anything anymore.”
Tossing my hand away, he stalked past Suzette and slammed the door closed behind him.
Whatever we’d had before was well and truly broken. I was broken. My soul tentatively touched the wall of the tower, wanting freedom to go after him. But I killed that part of myself. If I stepped free from my fortress, the guilt would find me. The ghosts would haunt me. I would die from an avalanche of emotion.
I raised my gaze to focus on Suzette.
She shuffled to the side of the bed with her tray. Up close it smelled like chicken noodle soup and fresh baguette. Her gaze was full of understanding painted on her pretty face. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”
I shook my head. How could I talk about it when I’d been the devil? When I’d maimed and murdered? No one wanted to hear my plight. I didn’t deserve it.
“I know you must hate me for hurting him, but I won’t talk about it. Not to anyone.” My stare was a forceful warning.
She didn’t say anything as she placed the tray on my lap. When neither of us moved she whispered, “I don’t dare presume what they did to you, Tess. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here. I haven’t told you my story, and I don’t know if I should, but your broken finger looks a lot like all ten of mine did when I was sold to Q.”
My eyes flew to Suzette’s in horror.
I blocked out the pain of the pliers with the help of my tower, but how did Suzette do it?
“Whoever took you will never take you again. Q made sure of that.” Suzette added, “You don’t believe me?”
“He said they wouldn’t take me before, but they did. He lied, Suzette. But none of that matters because he found me. It wasn’t his fault. I was the one who let life get in the way and forgot to remove the tracker. I ruined Q’s business. I brought this on myself.” My voice was a monotone, never rising with hills and valleys of emotion. “I know you think I’m being silly, but I honestly can’t talk about it. A burden shared is a burden halved, or however that stupid proverb goes. But I’m deadly serious when I say the past is in the past and I refuse to think or feel or even acknowledge what happened.”
Suzette brushed a strand of brown hair off her forehead. “I understand more than you know. And I can’t force you to step out of that safety net you’ve created. Just try and remember all the things you’re sacrificing.”
“I’m—”
She held up a hand. “Let’s not think about it. You’re strong enough to have a shower. That will make you feel ten times better.” She smiled gently. “After all, you do kind of smell like road-kill.”
My lips quirked for her benefit only, and I let her move the tray and quilt so I could stand on wobbly legs.
She helped me upright, giving me time to cough wetly as the last dregs of liquid in my lungs sloshed around.