Quintessentially Q

A memory swamped me. Something I’d suppressed—something I didn’t want to see.

“Go on. Do it.”

I no longer had the strength to even mentally disobey. Shuffling forward, I dragged the knife down the blonde girl’s arm.

“Cut it off. Call it stocktake and we no longer need that merchandise.”

The girl trembled, shaking her head, her lips working the thick rag in her mouth. The straps around her body kept her still while I grabbed her wrist and circled the barcode tattoo with the blade tip.

The drugs confused me. Why was I cutting off this tattoo? It must be important—but maybe I should cut off my own, too?

“Do it, puta. Or I’ll just chop off her arm.”

I pressed the tip of the knife around the outline of the tattoo, letting the sharp metal slice a border even as red blood rained.

The girl thrashed and cried and I flickered in and out of drug-consciousness.

“Nice cutting. Now peel it off.” Leather Jacket appeared by my shoulder, inspecting my handiwork.

I nodded and grabbed the flesh to pull—

The stomach-churning vision fractured as I fell off the bed. Crying out, I retched and hastily reached for the bowl on the floor. My stomach emptied and my skin dewed with clammy sweat.

The sound of the door opening and closing didn’t interest me as another wave of sickness rose.

The 1920s man from the night I hung in the sparrow room gently gathered my hair, waiting for me to finish retching. Once I was fairly sure I had nothing left, he took the bowl to the bathroom before coming back to help me into bed.

Once I rested under the sheets, he stood and smiled sadly. “Do you remember me?”

I nodded. “You stopped me from spinning out of control when Q strung me up for a dinner meeting.” For once I didn’t shudder at the thought of the Russian ass**le and his knife hilt. I would never know Q’s reasoning behind that.

“I did. I’m also Q’s work associate and closest friend.” He pointed at the end of the bed, raising an eyebrow. “May I?”

I shrugged. “Sure.” It wasn’t often I had gentlemen sitting in their immaculate suits on the end of my bed at almost three in the morning.

“My name is Frederick, and I’ve known Quincy since boarding school. He’s never fully come out and told me his life history, but I’ve put enough together to know he finds life in general incredibly hard. Even he doesn’t fully understand why he is the way he is, and yet you accepted him completely. For the first time in his life, he met a woman who not only loved him for the man, but for his darkness, too.”

He looked away as if too emotional to continue. “I must admit, I never thought Q would find what he needed. I envisioned him working himself into an early grave. Building an empire, dedicating his life to a cause that he believed was his redemption, and never finding what all humans want to find.”

I didn’t speak—just let Frederick take the stage.

“When you were taken, Q turned his back on everything he fought so hard for. He threw his company’s reputation down the gutter, he walked away from the profile he’d created for himself. He even dismissed the human part of himself that he’s always fought to protect.”

His aquamarine eyes flashed in the darkness. “He searched everywhere for you, Tess. He killed countless men—most in barbaric, coldblooded ways, all in the name of your honour. He travelled thousands of miles, paid hundreds of men for information. He went to hell to bring you back from it, and now that you’re safe, he has nothing.”

Something hard lodged in my throat.

“If you truly don’t think there’s hope, then leave. Get as far away from Q as possible, because you’ll only kill him faster by staying.” He turned to face me with an angry glint in his eyes. “But if you think there might be some small chance—some miniscule hope that you can work through what they did to you—then stay. You owe him that.”

Frederick stood, brushing his suit with perfect hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a wife who loves me, and I really need to go and tell her how much I care. Seeing such a perfect thing ruined between two people f**king hurts.”

Without another word, he strode to the door and let himself out.

The rest of the night didn’t equal sleep. I stared into the darkness, fighting a war deep inside, trying so hard to find the true me.

Frederick was right. I owed Q so much. I’d been selfish. I could be strong enough to face my guilty crimes. I needed to focus on saving the man I used to love—still loved.

I tried everything. Forcing myself to remember what I did, reliving all those horrible moments, even recalling the original kidnapping in Mexico, and the rape before Q found me. I put myself through every bad memory. I broke my heart with childhood memories of my parents abandoning me.

“We’re taking you to the zoo today. Behave and be a good girl.” My mother ducked to look me sternly in the eye.

I couldn’t control my six-year-old excitement. I’d never been taken anywhere nice. Apparently I wasn’t worth the admission, whatever that was. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Only when we got to the zoo, my mother didn’t go in with me. She waited until I’d gone through the barrier, then drove off.

I hated the zoo. Every wild animal seemed to sense my unhappiness; the monkeys laughed at me; the lions growled, tasting my fear. I spent the night huddled in the corner by the rubbish bins. No one noticed a six-year-old after hours and no mother came to pick her up.

Eventually, the cleaners found me, and much to my mother’s dismay, I was sent home.

I forced myself to think of how nasty my brother had been.

“Is this scummy toy yours?” He held up my headless teddy bear. The one I found outside a Salvation Army one day.

“Give it back.” I jumped for it, but he’d always been so tall. He laughed, tore the legs off, and scooped out the stuffing before throwing it all over me.

I hardened my heart, knowing I would never find love with these people.

And yet, I found love with Q. I found an all-encompassing connection that made my childhood seem so ridiculous.

Q muttered, “Tu ne peux pas être à moi, mais je suis en train de devenir à toi.”

My stomach twisted, filling with frothy bubbles. Our eyes locked and I couldn’t look away. Q brushed his lips against mine ever so sweetly, repeating in English, forcing me to swallow the words. “You may not be mine, but I’m fast becoming yours.”

Time froze.

His confession tied me up, stole my mind. His drunken state let me see the depth of his feelings. Time began anew, sparkling with new possibilities. My body was no longer mine, it belonged to Q. Everything belonged to Q.

How could I ever forget that I would always belong to Q?

Scrunching my face, I battered and screamed at my heavily garrisoned tower. I wanted the guilt. I wanted the nausea—for tears to spill—because it would show I was still alive in there…somewhere.

I no longer wanted to live in a void.

But no matter how I picked at old wounds, nothing worked. I’d added too many bricks, slammed closed too many locks.

I’d lost everything and I couldn’t even grieve.

By the time the sun warmed the room and a new day sparkled, I’d exhausted myself into a worse empty silence than before. I could stab myself in the heart and I wouldn’t feel it. I could break every bone in my body and I wouldn’t care.

I was truly dead inside.

Frederick was right. I couldn’t do this to Q anymore.

After showering and dressing in a pair of jeans and baby pink blouse from the carousel room, I made my way downstairs with just my passport in my pocket. I had no idea how I’d get back to Australia. I had no money—save for the cash Q gave me. I had no plan, and I didn’t care if a hitchhike turned into what happened before. Maybe some ra**sts would finish the job, so I could finally rest and not be so terribly cold.

Suzette stood in the foyer as I descended the stairs. Her arms crossed over her chest, a look full of sadness and disbelief on her face. “Q told us you were leaving. That Franco and I weren’t to stop you. Please don’t do this, Tess. Give it some time. We can wait. We can help you find your way back.”

I shook my head. “That isn’t fair on Q. I have nothing left and he deserves everything. It’s not fair to stay and give him hope.” I gave her a sad smile. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Without another word, I opened the front door and stepped outside. The world seemed so normal. Summer turned to autumn, and the beautiful trees in Q’s gardens started the journey from green to red to gold before dropping completely.

I felt like a dried-up leaf whose only purpose was to fall to the ground and rot.

Waiting on the stoop, I tried once more, one last and final time to find some part of me alive and unwilling to go, but the numbness was my only answer.

By protecting myself, I doomed myself. I may not die from guilt, but I would never live with love or happiness again.

My first step off Q’s porch should’ve buckled my knees and torn my heart free from my chest, but it didn’t.