Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(89)

The revelation wasn’t earth-shattering, I had figured out as much. Q and his frustrating tipsy comments. “Give me something I don’t know. I’m number fifty-eight. That means he’s had fifty-seven before. That makes him a dealer in women.” I couldn’t stand it. The thought of Q having so many women made me want to kick and punch and scream. Now I was gone, there would be more. Undoubtedly. “But I know he did it for the right reasons. He helped them… didn’t he?” I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t, not for that.

Franco grabbed my bicep, jerking me to the side, away from prying ears. He muttered, “Yes, Mr. Mercer has had fifty-seven slaves. Twelve of those were when he was sixteen. He buys women, accepts them as bribes, but never lays a finger on them.” He sighed, “Q rehabilitates broken women, and returns them to their loved ones. He dedicates his money, staff, and home to helping women who’ve been shattered beyond repair. With some sort of Mercer superglue, he manages to put them together again.”

Truth rang sweet. I finally knew.

After two months of living with an unreadable master, I knew the man behind the mask. Suzette hinted all along—the sparrows and birds screamed messages in my face. They symbolized women Q had saved. My eyes widened, finally understanding his tattoo. The black storm and brambles represented the horridness of the world—or him. The birds flapping free were girls he rescued. He wore it as a talisman. A badge of honour.

If I didn’t hate him, I’d love him for that.

I softened, accepting why Q threw me out. He had to protect future women. He couldn’t have me ruining his life because he dedicated his time to saving others. I hated that I understood. I would’ve done the same thing.

My heart wrung dry and I accepted there was no going back. Franco would never betray Q. I had to know one thing, though.

I looked up. “Why me? When he didn’t touch anyone else? Why did he try to break me if he fixes broken things?”

Franco looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “He didn’t want to break you. He—” Lips snapped shut, and shame shadowed his face. “This isn’t for me talk about.”

I grabbed his arm, squeezing hard muscle. “Please, Franco. Tell me. I need to know. I can’t deal with anymore. I thought Q cared for me. I care for him, and I made the biggest mistake of my life running and calling Brax.” Tears welled and spilled. “If I could take it all back, I would. You owe me the truth.”

Franco patted my hand over his. “I know, Ms. Snow, but it doesn’t change the fact that for the first time, Q responded to a slave the way a normal master would. He saw your fight and loved you weren’t broken. He wasn’t trying to break you by doing what he did.” He dropped his voice so I could barely hear. “He was hoping you could break him.”

Blood rushed into my ears. The songs about needing to fight and claim. I wanted to slap myself for not seeing. Q needed someone who matched his darkness, waged the same war between pleasure and pain.

We were so similar, yet he never let me get close to show him. I ruined it. The police gave an ultimatum, and Q had no choice but to accept.

Swallowing hard, Franco added, “Q deals with a lot. I hoped he finally found the one person who could help him. But then you ran, and it’s come to an end.”

Franco dropped his arms, stepping back, withdrawing in one swift move. “I’m sorry for what you dealt with in Mexico, and what Lefebvre did to you, but it’s time for you to forget about Mr. Mercer, and go back to your boyfriend.”

The mention of Brax shot a poker through my heart. What a terrible girlfriend I turned out to be. If Q wanted me, I would never have left. I would’ve let Brax fumble without me, stomping on my promise that I would never leave. Will I ever live with myself?

Franco pushed me toward the taxi stands. Rows of cars waited, bright under glaring lights.

Shoving something into my hands, he said, “This is for your troubles. Goodbye, Ms. Snow.”

I wanted to scream as Franco strode away and disappeared. I hated my last name. I missed esclave. I missed what the word meant: belonging. Not just to Q, but an entire different existence.

I didn’t know how long I stood on the footpath, clutching the envelope Franco gave, but eventually I had no choice but to move. Move forward. Try and forget.

In a daze, I shuffled to the taxi stand.

A driver quirked a bushy black eyebrow. “No luggage, little lady?”

I blinked. The moment I got in the car, my life would suck me along, and I would never be able to stop it. I would become Tessie again. Fierce Tess would be no more. Q would be no more.

Q was wrong about one thing. Something about me was broken: my heart.

Shaking my head, I mumbled. “No, no luggage.”

Get through today, then think about tomorrow. One baby step at a time.

Sliding into the plastic wrapped interior, I gave him my address. Our address. Me and Brax.

I was going home.





Bell Bird



I didn’t have a key.

Running fingers along the top of the doorframe, I found the spare. Our apartment resided on the bottom floor of a building of eight units. A one bedroom, chilly box, with no sun or views, but we decorated with bright fabrics and Brax’s DIY projects.

Dammit, fit.

The key wouldn’t slide into the lock because I shook so much.