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.
“You’re not out of your mind.”
Q snarled, “I am.” He punched himself in the chest. “How else do you explain my reasoning to do what I just did? How could I? To you—my God, Tess, you’ve already been through so much without me putting you through more. Fuck!” He punched the mattress, his knuckles pounding the sheets.
I shifted closer, welcoming the heat of his anger. “Whatever you were trying to do, it was for the right reasons.”
Q snorted, looking manic. “The right reasons? And what if I can’t remember it? What if I got so caught up, I let you think they’d come back for you? What sort of f**ked-up bastard does that?” He shook his head, breaking eye contact. “You don’t know what it felt like. Having you fight me—truly, truly fight me. You were so f**king fierce, and I wanted nothing more than to take you hard.”
His hand fell to grip between his legs. “I want you so f**king bad, esclave. It’s tearing me up inside to even admit that—admit to wanting to take you by force, especially after what happened today.”
His lips pursed; he shook his head with weighty sadness. “Les bonnes raisons ...merde...” The right reasons…shit…
My heart rabbited at the immense pain in his voice. Whatever he’d been trying to do, I hated to think of him so lost. He had blood on his hands for me. It was a debt I would never be able to repay. If he wanted to take me—to crave the lust inside—then I’d let him.
Cursing my bound hands—needing to hold him and offer forgiveness, I inched closer. “Tell me. What were you going to do?”
He laughed suddenly; it was laced with dark disbelief. “That’s the screwed-up thing. I didn’t have a complete plan. I was working on instinct—trying to help you.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I want to fix you.”
My heart softened, weeping at his confession. “You are fixing me. Every day you’re helping by being you. You have to believe in yourself.”
Q muttered something. I didn’t push him to repeat, and the room fell into a hushed silence once again.
Another block of time passed while we sat in our own thoughts.
Q finally said, “No matter how many ideas I chase, they all lead back to one.” Sitting taller, he straightened his shoulders. “If I said I might have a way to stop your nightmares, would you let me do it?” He stared hard, eyes probing deep. “Would you trust me, even though I can’t promise I can control myself? Would you still let me try?”