Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(41)

“Esclave?” Suzette asked, appearing in the doorway. “Ma?tre Mercer just called. He has a business dinner tonight with prospective clients.”

I stood, stretching. The one good thing about Q not coming for me meant my body

healed. The bruises from Leather Jacket faded to an ugly yellow, and my rib ached, rather than screamed.

The slap from Q hadn’t caused any damage, unfortunately. I had the feeling he wanted to hurt me, but didn’t quite have the balls. I wish he had branded me, and it horrified him so much, those feelings never strengthened.

I didn’t want to listen, but my gut said he’d get worse. I had to escape before instincts proved true. Suzette was wrong about him—there were no redeeming qualities. And I wouldn’t be suckered in by songs with lyrics oozing sadness.

“Do you want help preparing the meal?” I smiled. Cooking with Suzette was a highlight of my restrictive new life. I never cooked a lot, as Brax had been the chef in our family, but I found a flare for it. My heart lurched at the thought of Brax. Memories constantly caught me unaware, and I wanted to mourn, but at the same time, couldn’t. I wouldn’t accept he was dead, or that I’d never see him again. It wasn’t an option.

Suzette came forward. Something changed; she watched with sadness and resignation. My skin prickled as she asked, “Is it easier?”

I knew immediately what she meant and pursed my lips. Easier? It would never get easier.

She sighed, whispering, “Has he taken you fully yet?”

My heart raced to see jealousy flashing in her eyes. She was jealous? Of what? Being humiliated and used?

I stepped away. “Why are you asking these questions?”

She dropped her eyes. “I need to know. Tonight… this business meeting. I need to know how prepared you are.”

Relief coursed. If I could handle what I’d been through, I could handle a dinner party. After all, a role as a servant or waitress would be a lot easier than sucking off a man who forced me. My pulse thudded. Perhaps I could tell one of the guests Q kept me prisoner. That I needed the police.

A smile tugged, but I fought it. Suzette mustn’t know my hopes. But then my happiness disintegrated, rethinking the idea. The men were probably like Q: sick f*cks.

She stared for a moment, before nodding. “You don’t need to help with dinner. We’ve got it covered. You need to head upstairs and get ready. The guests will arrive in an hour.”

My eyes flew to outside, gauging the time. The sun kissed horizon, already giving brightness to shadow. When did it get so late?

Suzette pushed me toward the stairs, murmuring, “Can I ask another question?”

I stiffened, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t you find him attractive?”

I slammed to a stop in the foyer. “Attraction has nothing to do with it, Suzette. It’s the circumstances, the way he treats me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Q treats you better than all my owners ever treated me. You’re so lucky.” Her tone turned sullen. “You don’t even know.”

Anger thickened and I couldn’t speak. I felt sorry for her and what she lived through, but to say I had it better? Hah!

She continued, “Just think of his requests as rent money, or protection expenses. You give him what he wants, and he’ll take care of you. Q won’t ever seriously hurt you. Not like—” Suzette shuddered and stopped. Hazel eyes flashed with secrets buried in their depths. “Give him what he needs, then you can test the boundaries of your cage.”

Curiosity overrode anger. I took a deep breath and asked softly, “What men, Suzette? How did you come to be here? Were you stolen, like me?”

She twisted her fingers, looking at the marble floor. “The day I was sold to Q was the best da—”

The front door swung open and the devil himself stood framed in twilight. His hair was slightly shorter, as if he’d instructed the hair dresser to make it look like an otter’s pelt—sleek, shiny, impenetrable. A light silver suit and turquoise shirt made him look like an expensive jewel.

Eyes shot to mine, naked without his normal barriers. In the brief moment, I saw bone weary loneliness, surprise, and protectiveness. My heart ached to see such longing. What if Suzette was right? Q was deeper than I gave him credit for. Something lurked, dark and vile, but there was a human, as well as a monster, inside.

My body was torn between offering to dispel such unhappiness and killing him to end his misery, and mine.

Blank hardness hid his true thoughts, shattering the moment. I hadn’t seen him since he stole Brax’s bracelet, avoiding me like the plague, as if giving me time to grieve, to get over his thievery.

Fingers rubbed my wrist absentmindedly and his eyes followed. His face shut down, leaving nothing but domineering arrogance. “Suzette, I thought I told you to get her ready?”

Suzette bowed. “Oui, ma?tre.” Pushing me gently, she added, “Get dressed into the gown you’ll find in your wardrobe.”

“And if you ruin that one, the punishment will be a lot worse,” Q murmured. His tone rippled across skin, sending fire into my blood.

I ran up the stairs.

Safe in the cell of a room, I opened the wardrobe and gasped.

The one and only garment was nothing but gold lace. Long, clinging filigree, offering no coverage apart from a thicker weave around the groin and chest. The fabric train whispered against the floor as I plucked it from the wardrobe.