Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(63)

I didn’t think I had the strength to obey, but one moment I was lying, the next I sat on my knees, staring blankly at the cracked floor.

Something cool rested in my hands.

Something heavy and black and sinister.

A gun.

My heart rate peaked for the first time in days, racing fast against the comatose of the drugs. Why am I holding a gun?

“Final lesson.” Leather Jacket pointed at the girl in front of me. The gentle blonde with the small breasts and hummingbird tattoo on her hipbone.

She was gagged and her red-rimmed eyes were dry. She’d stopped crying days ago when Ryan broke her left arm. It was as if her mind had already gone.

I tried to smile at her, both of us locked in this horrible prison, but she just stared blankly at me.

“Kill her, cunt. Or I’ll cut her fingers off and then her toes until she dies slowly.”

The drugs couldn’t hold down my horror. I dropped the gun and crawled away. “No!”

“No,” he chuckled. “Did you just say no?” He stood in front of me, his legs barring my passage. “You really should’ve said yes.” He looked over my head. “Ryan.”

The glass-shattering scream made me retch as Ryan cut off one of the girl’s fingers.

I couldn’t look.

I can’t look.

Don’t look.

“Tessie, leave this place. It isn’t what you want,” Brax murmured.

“Esclave, you’re not one of them. If you even think of giving up and dying, I’ll hunt you for eternity.” Q’s passion shocked me. For days he’d been telling me to die. To give up and let myself go. Was it my mind telling me not to be so weak? Could Q really still care for me after all I’d done?

“Shoot her.” Leather Jacket pushed me backward. “Go on.”

Another moment ticked past and another scream rose.

I kept my eyes downcast, but it didn’t stop me seeing the puddle of blood forming around the girl. Even though she screamed for mercy, she still didn’t cry.

My heart squeezed to death at the thought that she couldn’t even find relief in tears. Her life was gone. Whether I shot her or not, her life was over.

She wouldn’t survive.

Save her. Shoot her. Set her free.

“One last time, slut. Shoot her.” Leather Jacket crouched to my eye level, placing the gun in my grip. “Do it.” He stood and backed away.

Every last shred of decency in me imploded. To save a girl from horror, I would steal her life.

With shaking hands, I raised the muzzle and pressed the trigger.

Some divine guidance took hold of the racing bullet, lodging it directly in her forehead. The life in her eyes instantly extinguished and a small smile tugged her lips before she fell sideways into silence.

I did it. I killed a bird that Q would’ve given everything to save. I was truly the devil and I couldn’t live with myself anymore.

Do it again, Tess. You set her free. Set yourself free.

Yes. I could escape everything.

I angled the gun into my mouth, sucked on the sulphur-laced muzzle, and pulled the trigger for the second and final time.

*****

“So, you punched her because she tried to kill herself?”

“Yes, boss. I did as you said and only put one bullet in the gun, but she still tried to swallow a fast one.”

“Good work. You succeeded. A strong bitch would never try to take such a chicken-shit way out.”

The voices weaved and plaited together, making me dizzy.

A steady throb in my temple brought me back from serene blankness to a freezing, emaciated reality.

“She’s coming around. We need to end this tonight. I have no more use for her.”

I cracked my eyes open just as White Man loomed above me. He smiled his crocodile smile. “I hear you tried to put yourself down like a dog, little girl?”

I moaned, reaching for my head. The pain was stronger for some reason, the fog not as thick or syrupy.

The drugs…they were wearing off. Clarity started coming back along with a terrible racking shiver. My jaw locked as I fought the trembles.

“Ah, do you know what that is?” White Man caressed my cheek. My reaction time was quicker and I jerked away. “That’s the first stage of withdrawal. You’re dependant on what we’ve given you. It’s the perfect key for any master to keep you inline.”

He sighed, grabbing a lock of my dirty hair and twirling it around his finger. “Do you know what would happen if you didn’t get a fix in an hour or two?”

“You’d shake so hard you’d probably bite off your own tongue,” Leather Jacket announced happily, adding, “You’d be so consumed with the need for a fix you’d pick at your own flesh. You’d climb the walls. Tear off your fingernails… You’d willingly sell your body for a meagre drop of what you need.”

I shoved White Man away, hunching with my head in my arms.

Is it true? Would that happen?

But I didn’t have to believe them for it to be real. Already my skin itched for relief and my mouth watered for something other than food. I couldn’t exist in this world. I wanted the endless smog, the warm comfort of oblivion.

I looked up. I sat on a desk in the corner of a large room with threadbare carpeting and filing cabinets. A tatty cobweb-covered lightshade hung in the centre of the room.