Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(85)

Five were due to leave today. And two left the moment they arrived. A few were sick and four suffered withdrawals like Tess, but none of them had been hurt as much as her. It made no sense to butcher items bound for sale. The only casualty had been found by one of the mercenaries: a blonde in a shallow grave with a gunshot to the head.

I had no purpose as I paced around the exterior of the large manor. I had no compass or direction anymore. I needed to go for a run, or beat the shit out of some gym equipment. But all I could think about was Tess.

I didn’t have the balls to go back to see her. I couldn’t stand looking into her empty soulless eyes. I couldn’t be told to leave again. I might strike her. I might hit her and then I’d be no better than the bastards who stole her.

Hit her. Whip her. Force her to face whatever it is she’s blocked.

But instead of pawing at me, encouraging me to race back to tie Tess up, the beast curled deeper into the corner, hanging its pitiful head. It wanted to bolt. To leave and never come back.

The urge to sprint filled my limbs and I took off. I wasn’t dressed for a run—in jeans and a black T-shirt—but I couldn’t stand the angst anymore.

I took off toward the manicured fields, running from thoughts of Tess.

I charged under ancient trees, sucking in lungfuls of air as I outran my demons. Outran the memories of her hallucinations and fretful mumbling. I tried to forget that she talked to Brax in her sleep, her parents, too.

My hands curled and I slammed them into a tree as I darted past. Bark lodged into my knuckles, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything but running.

*****

Two hours later, I could barely move and smashed the library door behind me. Throwing myself into a wingback, I tried to calm my breathing, wiping my sweaty face with the hem of my T-shirt.

I needed a shower, but I couldn’t face going upstairs to my room yet. The thought of seeing Tess hurt like a motherf*cker.

Scowling at the library, I remembered why I’d avoided coming in here. Too many memories existed: Tess standing up to the police when she thought they’d come to arrest me; Tess coming back to offer her love.

And now that f*cking love was fading. If not already disappeared.

I picked up a heavy candlestick from the side table, hurling it at the fireplace. It bent and smashed against the bricks. The violence awakened the need in me, and I wanted to wring somebody’s neck for stealing something so precious from me.

My jaw ground until my teeth almost turned to dust. I needed a fight. I needed to kill to purge myself of this...this…foreign emotion. This mind-twisting confusion.

Everything inside no longer made sense. When Tess woke up coughing and fighting her dreams, I called her my love. I called her the sweetest endearment I’d ever called anyone in my life, and she didn’t react.

I willingly opened my heart to her and finally f*cking admitted that I no longer merely cared for her. I no longer even fell for her. I’d hit rock bottom and loved her with every inch of my f*cking soul.

And nothing.

Her fragility and sickness activated another part of me. The part that stood up to be a protector and provider. My need to wipe her brow and hold her while she healed encouraged dormant sides of me to grow.

I felt myself distancing, retreating from a harsh lover who wanted to hurt, to something softer. A man who would lay down his body, who would flay himself alive if it meant Tess would heal. But those caring needs crippled the beast and I no longer saw Tess as a fighter.

By her own words she was forcing me away.

She looked at me with no emotion, not as her lover who’d drawn her blood and been so deep inside her, I bruised both of us. She looked at me as if she’d said goodbye already.

I stood up, unable to sit any longer. Grabbing a pair of bookends, I threw them against the desk. The loud bangs as they dented the wood encouraged me to reap more anarchy.

Turning myself over to the beast, I brought an apocalypse on the room.

I tore off bookshelves.

It’s over.

I shredded limited editions.

I’ve fallen in love only for it to end so fast.

I hurled figurines and kicked priceless artefacts.

She’ll never be my strong esclave again.

When the room was in complete disarray, I threw myself into the chair.

Sitting forward, I massaged my temples, trying to dislodge the migraine.

Tess shot into my mind. How her head threw back when I licked her *. How she moaned when I f*cked her. How her skin flushed when I whipped her.

I waited for the beast to snarl and demand I do worse things. To go up there and become her entire world while I hurt her.

But my cock shrivelled and I skated away from such things. All I could see was a woman I would die for, a woman who paid for my sins with her agony, and all I wanted to do was wrap her in silk and finery and never go near her again.

*****

“Um, wow. I suppose I’ll need a bit of help cleaning tomorrow.”

My eyes snapped open, and the sharp swell of a headache welcomed me back to the world of unhappiness and horror.

Suzette moved through the dark room, stepping over rubble, dodging broken lamps.

“Are you okay, master? Can I get you anything?” She smoothed her pinafore, refusing to look at the mess around us. She probably thought I’d completely gone insane.

I sat straighter, dragging a hand over my face, trying to dispel the headache’s grip on me. My clothes were crusty from sweat; I felt ancient. “Is she okay?” My voice was a growl. I cleared my throat.