Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(95)

I shook my head, ignoring his stupid demands. “What the hell are you doing here this late anyway? Go home to your pretty, perfect little wife.” I didn’t mean to sound jealous. Angelique was a pretty, perfect little wife, but I made it sound like that was a bad thing.

Frederick gave me a hard look. “I won’t punch you for that as you’re drunk. If you really want to know, I’m here because Suzette called to let me know you freed all your birds. She was concerned you might’ve finally snapped.” He sighed, waggling a finger in my face. “She was worried, and I think she did the right thing, so don’t reprimand her.”

“Damn f*cking meddling maid,” I muttered under my breath.

“That damn maid may turn out to be your saving grace if you get the balls to fix whatever has gone wrong with you and Tess.”

I spun, swinging wide, fully intending to deck him. If I couldn’t hit Tess anymore, a surrogate was in order. “It isn’t f*cking fixable. I’ve tried.”

Frederick ducked and punched me, hard, right in the gut where all that sweet, pain-stealing alcohol lived. “Before you ask, that was for being a douche. Second, it was to try and knock some sense into you. You haven’t tried. You’ve been treating Tess with kiddie gloves. Is that why she fell in love with you?”

Rubbing my stomach, I swayed. I needed to rethink letting this man run my company. He asked the dumbest questions. “Huh?”

“Did Tess fall in love with you because you’re kind and sweet and even-tempered?” He snorted, a grin spreading his lips.

“Bien s?r que non.” Of course not. Even I laughed at that idiotic suggestion. Those three words had never been used to describe me, not even on my best of days.

“Did she fall in love with you because you’re a dark son of a bitch who has to hit her and draw blood to be connected?”

“Merde, when you put it that way, I sound like a f*cking sicko with a vampire complex.” The alcohol switched from sweet to sour, and I no longer liked the thought of being drunk.

“You are. I totally agree. But you’re also a man who is head over heels for a woman that wants that side of you. You told me she wanted to be your slave. She came back for you, Mercer. No woman would put herself through that unless she could see the goodness in you.”

That just reminded me I let her get taken in the first place. It’s all my fau—

Frederick slapped me. It was such a girly move, I laughed. “Resorting to a bit of palm action, Roux?”

He chuckled. “Just stopping that train of thought. I’ve seen it in your eyes way too often the past few weeks. It isn’t your fault. Sure, your life is full of dangerous men, but you’re dangerous enough to keep her safe. It was just bad luck. That’s all.”

“It wasn’t f*cking bad luck. We were both idiots about the tracker. I thought she’d removed it!”

Frederick nodded. “I agree. You’re both to blame. What does that tell you?”

Anger.

Sheer, undiluted anger filtered through my veins, burning up the alcohol, making me see clearly for the first time in weeks. “Tess is to blame, too.”

Frederick took a step backward, a smile tugging his lips. “Go on…”

My eyes rose to the staircase above us, already seeing Tess curled up in bed thinking she was safe. But she wasn’t safe. Not from me.

“She f*cked up just as much as me. She needs to apologise. She needs to thank me for all the blood on my hands. She needs to give me back what’s mine.”

“And that is?” Frederick goaded.

“Her f*cking heart.”

My legs moved on their own accord. Grabbing the banister, I hurled myself up the steps, two at a time.

I couldn’t move fast enough.

Frederick followed close behind. I wanted to tell him to get lost, but I had no time. I’d wasted enough time as it was. I’d have an audience but I was past caring.

This conversation should’ve happened days ago. Tess owed me. Goddammit, she owed me so f*cking much and she just cut me off. I was done being cut off.

The door slammed open as I heaved it with my shoulder. Tess shot upright in bed. She winced, holding her side, her bandaged finger resting on the sheet.

I licked my lips, searching her eyes for the one thing I needed to see. Fear. She should’ve been terrified at my entry, but her eyes were colourless in the gloom. Nothing glowed, no terror or panic. She looked as if she’d fallen asleep at a f*cking church service.

“Tess,” I growled, charging for the bed.

She let me come. She didn’t move away or try to hide under the covers. She cocked her head. “I didn’t think you’d be sleeping with me. Not after what I said.”

She wore the same white T-shirt of mine to bed, and all I could think about was her undressing before I strapped her to the cross—it felt like a century ago. We’d been happy then. I’d been tormented and scared, but happy as Tess promised she’d never leave.

I pinched my brow, trying to get my thoughts under control. “I’m not coming to bed, esclave. You and I need to talk.”

She eyed me but nodded. “Okay.”

Goddammit, where was the fire? The argument that she didn’t want to talk because I woke her in the dead of night. I needed to see tenacity and boldness. Nothing shone on her face, no ounce of emotion.