Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(106)

There was nothing sexy about this. My cock wanted no part in it. It wasn’t right in my world, and every part of me screamed to end it, but she needed to kill her nightmares.

I had to give her my body because she already owned my heart.

I knew the dark place she lived in. I knew the horrors of being a killer, and I knew the moment she gave in fully, allowed herself to release all those ugly memories, she probably wouldn’t stop until I was dead. But if it meant she could purge herself and move on from hell, I would do it.

I would sacrifice myself for her.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Je t'aime, Tess.” I love you. “Nous sommes les uns des autres.” We are each other’s.

Tess cocked her head, breathing hard against the tracks of tears falling endlessly from her eyes. It didn’t register, and I was glad in a way. I spoke to her fractured soul, not the broken woman.

Sucking in my pride and honour and every last f*cking shred of decency I had left, I growled, “You’re a f*cking disappointment. Did we not teach you anything? You killed—so what. You’re useless. Pathetic.”

Tess made a strangling noise.

“You’re worthless. You can’t even follow orders correctly.”

Her mouth twisted. “I hate you for eternity. I hate your operation. I hate your stench. I hate your clothes. Your voice. Your lack of humanity.” Her eyes glazed, turning deeper and deeper into her nightmare.

A sharp burn started in my throat at the knowledge I had truly f*cking lost her.

Tess put aside the flogger and picked up the cat-o'-nine-tails. The same tool I used to break the memories of her rape.

There was no warning, no build-up—she struck.

The multiple threads whistled through the air and bit into my clothes. The tiny beads shredded my T-shirt.

The next hit landed on my thighs, burning me through the denim. Tess went feral; double fisting the whip, she struck and struck. A particularly violent hit landed across my throat—it sent shock waves echoing through my body. Tess was nothing but pure rage, gushing from a soul that had finally had enough.

Time ceased.

Tess hit and hit and hit.

She broke my skin and blood ran free, dripping and staining the towels below.

My clothes ripped with every strike until they hung in f*cking tatters. The pain amplified, building and building until every part of me trembled. I wanted to scream and rage and curse. I needed an outlet. I needed to run. But I never made a sound as Tess whipped me closer and closer to death.

Through swollen eyes, I didn’t recognise Tess anymore. Sweat matted her hair and tears shone on her cheeks.

My heart broke into a billion fragments for what I did to this wonderful woman. I wanted to wrap her up and never let anything happen to her again. I never wanted to lay another finger on her or cause her any pain. I just wanted her to be happy.

Her next strike caught my flayed chest, tearing deep into my skin.

I couldn’t help it— I cried out. The first sign of weakness and Tess pounced on it. “You like that, you bastard.”

She hit me again and again. “Die, you murderer. Just die.”

The ache of tears shot up my spine, bruising my eyes.

I’d never cried.

Not once.

I always thought I was incapable. And yet, as I lay taking the brunt of everything Tess lived with, I felt myself coming apart. I’d never had the urge to give up my life to save another. I was never weak or selfless enough to put another first. But falling in love Tess took away my balls as well as my heart, and now I would pay for it.

A single tear escaped my control. The caustic pain of salt burned the cuts on my cheeks. Another tear rolled silently, motionlessly.

One tear for what I lost.

One tear for what I gained.

One tear for being helpless.

One tear for being in love.

Six tears until my body gave out, my blood ran cold, and Tess beat me into oblivion.

*****

Cold water drenched my face.

I winced as my fiery eyes opened to a tearstained, furious Tess on top of me. An empty glass rested in her hand.

I looked down, noticing I was naked, dripping with blood, and crisscrossed with lacerations. She’d cut off my blood-soaked clothing, leaving them on the bed beside me.

“You used to wake me up like that every morning. Time to hurt another, you’d say. But now it’s over. I’m done hurting you. I’m going to kill you.”

She scooted off, moving to stand by the side of the bed. Her eyes no longer burned with hatred and the need to maim; now they held resolution and satisfaction.

My over-worked heart thudded with happiness. I might’ve been able to help her after all. My life for her life. I’m glad.

“This is for those women you made me ruin. For the life you made me take. I hate you and I hope you rot in hell.” She raised her hands above her head, fingers wrapped around the handles of sharp silver scissors, holding them like a dagger over my heart.

“Esclave—” I tugged on the rope around my wrists, not ready to die. I’m not ready to f*cking die.

My life raced before my eyes: how much I’d miss. How much I hadn’t had time to do.

I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t let her send me away. Not now. Not after everything.

I did the one thing I swore not to do.

I screamed.