He reached behind, grabbing my na**d flesh to toss me off him. The carpet cushioned my fall. I kicked hard as I could in his direction. My bare foot connected with something far more perfect than a knee or thigh. It hit his prized possession.
“Fuck!” he roared.
My body stuttered just for a moment. That voice. Then white-noise stole me again, keeping me focused on my task. I shook my head. I refused to listen. I wouldn’t listen. Not to lies or promises or even the voice of the man who I loved more than anything. It wasn’t his voice. It couldn’t be, and I refused to be side-tracked from murder.
“Fucking bastard. What did you do? Where is he?” The anger and sheer-minded confidence was like a long lost lover, cocooning me with belief—belief I could win. How had I been so weak? How did I forget this velvety power of self-reliance?
I laughed suddenly. I was grateful. Even though I would kill him. He’d returned to me what I thought was lost forever.
Not one tear leaked from my eyes. Not one plea or beg. I was free.
Then a body collided with mine, slamming me against the floor. His hard form stole the breath from my lungs. My strength and fire flickered, sucking me back into tameless horror.
I went berserk.
Legs, arms, fingers—my entire body became a weapon.
“Fuck me,” he grunted, his voice hidden by the rage roaring in my ears.
Expect it. Any moment.
I tensed for pain. I knew it was coming. He hadn’t hit me yet, but he would. I’d drawn blood—I tasted it in the air. I’d made him angry—I felt it in his fingers as he tried to stop my flailing fists. He would strike and soon.
Kill him!
“Let me f**king go!” In a twist and a huge surge of power, I knocked his hands away and slapped him. My throat burned I breathed so hard.
“Fucking hell, stop!”
Stop? And make his kidnapping easy? As if.
I kicked, grinning with delusion when something crunched beneath my foot. Suddenly, he let me go, his body climbing off mine. I yelped as a hand wrapped around my ankle, dragging me toward the table at the bottom of the bed.
“No!” Carpet burn scalded my back. I tried to jerk out of his grip, but his fingers bit harder.
Something skidded off the table, slamming to the floor.
“Goddammit.”
That voice again. My heart lost its violent rage, coughing with confusion.
Then his body was back on mine, slamming my head down, planting a palm over my mouth. This was it. He’d inject me with something and steal me away. My chance to either die or kill would be taken from me.
He spun me onto my stomach, pressing my face against the carpet. With a sharp knee wedged in my lower back, he wrenched my arms behind my back, wrapping something unyielding but soft around my wrists.
Our harsh breathing filled the room. I wriggled, kicked, did everything I could but my female form was no match for his brute muscle. Adrenaline had made me strong but not strong enough.
The moment my wrists were bound, he climbed off me, leaving me gulping back tears and rage.
Every last inch of energy swirled in my chest—ready to fight and fight and fight, but a switch clicked on, drenching us with light.
Light.
Beautiful, all-seeing light.
Black-clad legs stalked past my vision. I couldn’t understand.
The legs folded to kneel beside me, flipping me onto my back. My eyes locked onto my kidnapper. Onto my lover, protector, husband to be.
The adrenaline disappeared with a bang, drenching my muscles in disbelief.
Q panted above me, his face an unreadable mask. His hot palm slammed over my lips as he dragged his other hand through his hair. His eyes were wild. “Fucking hell. I’ve lost my f**king mind.”
And just like that the freedom from pain and past was gone. I snapped back to the Tess who no longer knew how to fight. I shivered as everything hot and true abandoned me.
My gaze flared wide. Had he finally snapped and embraced the darkness I always knew lived within him? Was he sleepwalking? What the hell is happening?
Fear overshadowed everything; another shiver went through me. I wanted to speak but he never released my mouth. I wiggled, trying to convey my wishes in my gaze.
Let me go! Talk to me!
Q’s eyes blazed. “Don’t move, Tess. For God’s sake and all that’s f**king holy. Do. Not. Move.”
Forcing my breathing to slow, I obeyed.
Even though every molecule inside pinged and ricocheted, I lay like a corpse as Q menaced above like some son of the underworld. Dressed all in black he looked like a deliverer of death himself.
He shut his eyes, slowly removing his hand from my mouth. Dragging it over his face, he sucked in a gulp, then another. Blackness shimmered around him. “I didn’t think you’d fight. I thought you’d be too broken to fight. Goddammit, if I knew you’d be so strong—that it would affect me like this—shit.”
Suddenly, he hurled himself upright and slammed his fist into the wall. “Shit, shit, shit.” He stumbled to the bed, sitting heavily. His splayed legs cradled his head as he rolled forward, grabbing his messy hair with white fingers. “A quoi je pensais, putain?” What the f**k was I thinking?
I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I had no idea what was going on.
Q trembled with his head bowed, his large body locked with whatever issues he fought.
I didn’t know how much time passed but the room returned to its peaceful silence. My shoulders and wrists ached from lying on them. Twisting my aching body, I managed to clamber to my knees. Shuffling forward, I whispered, “Q—”
Q held up his hand. “Don’t come near me, Tess. Not yet. This was a big f**king mistake. How did I think I could do this to you when it’s too close—scarily close to…” He didn’t continue but I knew his thoughts as clearly as if he’d spoken them.
It was scarily close to all the badness inside him—the true fantasy. The ultimate wish to steal me away and use me. No consent. No love. Just pure dominance.
Inching my way across the carpet, I didn’t care about my nakedness or even the goosebumps covering my skin. A metre separated us and all I wanted was to go to him. It was imperative we fix this. Otherwise, it had the power to destroy us.
“Q…”
A minute ticked past, then five, then ten. Finally, his back straightened. He smoothed his hair with shaky hands, looking up. His face was colourless, eyes wild and deadly. “I’m out of my mind.” His lips curled in a cold smile. “I’m—God, I don’t even know anymore.”
I’d never seen him so lost—so threatening but unsure. His gaze begged me to forgive him while his body stiffened with self-hatred.