Tears of Tess
Page 38
I flung the bracelet away; it landed on Brax’s pillow. I didn’t want it anymore. It belonged to two identities, who I no longer bowed to.
I will move on, so help me. I would find and rescue women who suffered abuse and hardship. I would become a trafficker’s worst nightmare. Even though you deny him, you’re becoming him.
My eyes widened.
Q saved women, same as I was about to do.
He might save them, but he never brought the bastards who did it to justice. I wanted to go after the monsters, not just the offerings.
I looked into the envelope before tossing it away, and pulled out a small piece of paper. Air refused to enter my lungs.
Esclave,
Tess,
This is for your freedom
Fly high and happy
Je suis à toi
Q
I clamped a hand over my mouth, holding back a wail. Behind the note was a cheque.
Signed with an arrogant swirl of an autograph Quincy Mercer had given me two hundred thousand euros.
I felt faint. Two hundred thousand! Anger blazed. Two hundred. Was that all I was worth? Less than a Bugatti or some other possession he could buy?
Shit, I wasn’t for sale!
The money sent two hundred spasms of hot frustration at his audacity. He really was a f**king idiot. I didn’t want his money. I didn’t want anything from him apart from peace. I wanted him out of my head. I wanted my senses to belong to me again. I wanted my heart to stop weeping. So many things I wanted… and would never get.
Damn him to the depths of hell.
My heart raced. Everything I’d been trying to forget, to run from, grabbed me around the throat, chocking with ruthless savagery.
“As you wish, esclave. Every time I call you Tess, remember I can do anything I want to you. I f**king own you.”
“Yes.”
“After tonight, every time I say your name you’ll get wet for me. I not only own your body but your identity, too. Do you deny it?”
I tried to deny it. I tried so damn hard.
But I couldn’t swallow the lie. Q still owned me. Owned my body, heart, soul, my f**king everything.
Tears dripped onto my hands. I knew what I had to do.
Rushing to my bedside table, I found my sketchpad and ripped out a page. Hands shook and my stomach tripped into knots.
Brax,
I’ll always love you. I’ll love your kindness, your generosity, your friendship, your smile. I’ll always love the way you made me feel so good about myself and how you kept me safe when I felt so alone. But I know I don’t give you what you need. I know I’m selfish with not leaning on you enough and I didn’t realize it until now.
Another needs you more than I ever will, and I want you to be happy.
I’m letting you go, Brax, and I wish you so much happiness and jo—
“You’re leaving. Aren’t you?”
I dropped the pen, sucking in a breath. Brax stood, framed in the door, jaw clenched. He strode to the bed, trying to read my note upside down. His eyes fell to the silver bracelet on his pillow.
I bit my lip as he picked it up, staring, unseeing. The bracelet represented our future and I tossed it away so flippantly.
Leaving a note was cowardly, but face to face, I didn’t know if I had the strength. Find the strength. He needs to know the truth.
Dropping the paper, I walked to his side. “Yes. I’m leaving.”
Brax looked up, holding the bracelet tightly. “You were just going to go, Tessie?” Eyes blazed with hurt. “What about what I want?”
I placed a hand over his heart, looking into blue, blue eyes. “I am giving you what you want. What you need. I’ll always be your friend, Brax, but we’ve outgrown each other. I never wanted to hurt you, and by staying, I will.”
He hung his head, pressing his forehead against mine. “That’s not true. I need you.”
I sighed softly, “I think another needs you more.”
When he looked with an eyebrow raised, I added, “The neighbour you’ve been spending so much time with? I’ve seen you together, Brax. I know you have feelings for her.”
He gulped. “It’s not like that. Honestly. She moved in while you were… um… gone, and I’ve been helping her with some tough shit.” He dropped his voice. “Her dad and brother were killed in a house fire. Her mum died when she was a baby, and she’s got no one to turn to. I was only being nice.”
“What’s her name?”
He flinched. “Bianca.”
I hated the look in his eyes—the look where he expected me to scream and punch him. He had every right to care for another as lonely as him. Together, they would be each other’s everything. I wasn’t broken enough for Brax. My courage and strength kept a rift between us all this time.
Kissing him gently, I murmured, “Let me go. You’ll be happier, I swear it. The truth hurts less than fibs and fakers… remember?”
He swallowed hard, nodding once. He knew I spoke the truth. “Where will you go?” He gathered me into a hug.
I squeezed him back, but I couldn’t confess. “I’m not sure. But know that I’m happy and doing what I need to do.” Kissing his check, I pulled away. “I hope you’re truly content with whoever you end up with, Brax.”
He kissed me gently, smiling. “You’re going back to France, aren’t you?”
I froze.
“I’ve seen how different you are, Tess. I sleep next to you. I see how you wake up hot and bothered and sexy as hell. Something happened over there, and it changed you. I get it. What happened in Mexico changed both of us.”
I battled with embarrassment and awe. Brax saw more than I gave him credit. Shame made me blush. He was right. I had changed and I couldn’t undo it. I couldn’t change the fact he lay next to me while I dreamed of Q whipping and f**king me. He suffered in silence as I cried out in need.
Remorse settled heavy. “Brax, I’m so sorry.”
He laughed lightly. “Nothing to apologise for, Tessie. I knew we were different ever since you pulled out your vibrator. I’m not comfortable with that sort of thing, and I think I knew we’d go our separate ways that night. It hurt so much at the time, but now… I might be able to breathe with the thought of only having you as a friend.”
His acceptance let my heart fly free; I threw myself into another hug. “Stay in touch.”
Brax hugged me with endless comfort and kissed my cheek goodbye.
Our two year relationship ended on a friendly note, and I wished Brax the world.
Half an hour later, I strode from the apartment, wearing Q’s grey dress.
No belongings.
No trivial items that meant nothing.
Just me, my passport, and note from my master.
With a heart-winging smile, I left my world behind.
Chapter 24
*Kingfisher*
The flight to Paris took forever.
The train to Blios an eternity.
The moment I arrived in the village where I ran from Franco, a rainbow of feeling settled. Residual fear from the rape. Excitement at being so close to Q. Nerves at not knowing how he’d react. What if he hated me completely? What if he sent me away again? Stop those thoughts. One thing was for sure, Q would hear me out before he tossed me away again. He lived in the darkness? Well, I was about to bring hell on him if he didn’t listen.
Deciding to shed memories of running, with recollections of returning, I strode into Le Coq and approached the same woman. The roosters on the walls no longer wanted to peck my eyes out. They looked fat and content.
The women who didn’t believe I’d been kidnapped gawked as I approached the counter. My skin pricked with phantom panic from the rape, but I forced it away. It didn’t define me. It was over.
Her mouth hung open, watching with incredulous eyes.
“Bonjour. I’m looking for the Moineau residence. Quincy Mercer’s estate.”
Her jaw dropped further showing unhygienic teeth. “You…you came here claiming he kidnapped you. Now you want to go back?”
I smiled bright. “Yep. Makes sense, huh?” I didn’t elaborate, and tried not to laugh. I couldn’t stop bubbles of tentative happiness. I was doing something just for me. It was liberating.
She glared for ages; I didn’t think she’d answer, but finally she called into the kitchen, summoning a scruffy boy with hands covered in soapy bubbles. “Emmener la, à la résidence de Mercer.” Take her to Mercer’s estate.
I basked in the lyrical language of French. I missed it. I’d grown to love France and its language. Living back in Australia with the twangy accent and heat had never fit. Australia was bright and brash and wonderful. France was chic and refined and smouldered with passion.
The kitchen boy nodded, pushing a black cowlick from his eyes. I thanked the woman and followed the boy to a white van in the back alley. The same alley where I bolted from Franco.
I suffered a pang of terror at the thought of getting in the car with a stranger. I wouldn’t survive a repeat of Brute and Driver, but I steeled myself.
We didn’t say a word as we drove. Rolling hills and patchwork countryside flurried my heart erratically. Every mile, I was closer to Q. Every mile, I felt more and more confident. This was where I belonged. This was home.
We turned and drove through huge, imposing gates and the sound of gravel pinging beneath the car made sweat pool in my lower back. Nerves skittered, my mouth dry with worry.
Q’s pastel mansion came into sight, along with the horse fountain splashing with tiny rainbows in the mid-afternoon sun. Spring gave way to summer, and Q’s immaculate gardens rioted with colour. Butterflies fluttered while birds winged. An innocent paradise where a beast lurked. A beast that liked delicate things, but would never kill.
The young boy smiled as we pulled to a halt outside imposing pillars and cherub plasterwork. My heart firmly lodged in my throat. I couldn’t move. What am I doing?
“Nous sommes arrivés.” We’re here. He waved for me to exit.
I stared at the mansion, with everything bared. I can’t do this. Yes, you can. But what if… what if he refused to see me, or moved onto another slave… or…
The front door swung open.
I ducked in the seat, cowardice taking me hostage.
A very surprised Suzette stepped out, peering through the van’s windows. I tentatively waved; her mouth fell open.
The boy laughed, reaching across to open the door. I climbed out, frantically smoothing my grey dress, rubbing my cheeks, wishing I’d taken the time to present myself better.
A slight breeze sent a spritz of water from the horse fountain, dewing my skin, making me shiver.
Suzette and I didn’t move for a century.
I doubted any slaves returned once they were released. Then again, I was forcibly removed. I broke tradition by being unpredictable. Our eyes locked and I transmitted everything I felt in my gaze. Do you see how worthy I want to be? I came back for him. I came back for you. For this life. For everything he made me become.
Suzette inched forward, her black and white maid’s uniform sleek and pressed. Hazel eyes sparkled. “Ami? What… I don’t understand.” She stepped hesitantly. I closed the distance between us.
I resisted the urge to bowl her over in a hug. She covered her mouth as I smiled. “Bonjour, Suzette.” The sun burned through late spring haze, warming my skin. Whatever happened, I made the right decision. Q needed someone to fight. Q needed to be fought for.
I wanted to fight for him. I wanted to win him.
The pastel tones of the manor glowed with sun in pale greens, pinks, and decedent renaissance features.
I never wanted to leave.
Suzette squealed, launching herself into my arms. “You came back? Why would you do that? I thought you hated him, us, everything that happened. He threw you away. I thought you’d be plotting murder, not appearing out of the blue.”
I ignored the pang caused by the ‘throwing away’ remark. He didn’t. He did what the police told him. I wouldn’t hold a grudge… unless he kept being an arrogant ass**le, then I’d punch him.
Squeezing her back, I breathed in her scent of lavender and cleaning products. My heart thudded with so many memories. Suzette had been difficult. So loyal to Q, and her hard friendship hurt sometimes, but she was fierce and lived through much more than me.
My respect for her was a hundred fold.
Pulling away, I said, “I’ve had time to think. Q changed me, Suzette. He took the real me and set me free.” I smiled, remembering how fundamental birds were to Q. Speaking in his cryptic language, I added, “He opened my cage and allowed me to fly. I can’t help it if my freedom is here.”
She pulled back, a sly smile on her face. “You figured him out.”
Wrapping fingers with mine, she tugged toward the house. I put one foot in front of the other, focusing on breathing so I didn’t pass out. My heart hadn’t stopped thrumming since I boarded the plane. I felt sure it was nearing expiration.
“I had help from some drunken ramblings and Franco, but yes. I’m beginning to see him. I want to see more.” I looked around the massive foyer with its midnight blue staircase and huge works of art. My body spun with a thousand feelings; my stomach wouldn’t stop somersaulting.
She pecked my cheek, closing the door behind us, locking us into Q’s world. His domain. My future. “What day is it?”
I blinked. Crossing timelines and datelines muddled me. “Um, Sunday?”
A smile split her face. “It’s not a weekday.”
Oh, my God. My heart winged, soaring around the foyer. “He’s here,” I whispered. I couldn’t wait another moment. “Take me to him?”
Suzette grasped my hand, dropping her voice. “I’m so happy to have you back, Ami.”
I will move on, so help me. I would find and rescue women who suffered abuse and hardship. I would become a trafficker’s worst nightmare. Even though you deny him, you’re becoming him.
My eyes widened.
Q saved women, same as I was about to do.
He might save them, but he never brought the bastards who did it to justice. I wanted to go after the monsters, not just the offerings.
I looked into the envelope before tossing it away, and pulled out a small piece of paper. Air refused to enter my lungs.
Esclave,
Tess,
This is for your freedom
Fly high and happy
Je suis à toi
Q
I clamped a hand over my mouth, holding back a wail. Behind the note was a cheque.
Signed with an arrogant swirl of an autograph Quincy Mercer had given me two hundred thousand euros.
I felt faint. Two hundred thousand! Anger blazed. Two hundred. Was that all I was worth? Less than a Bugatti or some other possession he could buy?
Shit, I wasn’t for sale!
The money sent two hundred spasms of hot frustration at his audacity. He really was a f**king idiot. I didn’t want his money. I didn’t want anything from him apart from peace. I wanted him out of my head. I wanted my senses to belong to me again. I wanted my heart to stop weeping. So many things I wanted… and would never get.
Damn him to the depths of hell.
My heart raced. Everything I’d been trying to forget, to run from, grabbed me around the throat, chocking with ruthless savagery.
“As you wish, esclave. Every time I call you Tess, remember I can do anything I want to you. I f**king own you.”
“Yes.”
“After tonight, every time I say your name you’ll get wet for me. I not only own your body but your identity, too. Do you deny it?”
I tried to deny it. I tried so damn hard.
But I couldn’t swallow the lie. Q still owned me. Owned my body, heart, soul, my f**king everything.
Tears dripped onto my hands. I knew what I had to do.
Rushing to my bedside table, I found my sketchpad and ripped out a page. Hands shook and my stomach tripped into knots.
Brax,
I’ll always love you. I’ll love your kindness, your generosity, your friendship, your smile. I’ll always love the way you made me feel so good about myself and how you kept me safe when I felt so alone. But I know I don’t give you what you need. I know I’m selfish with not leaning on you enough and I didn’t realize it until now.
Another needs you more than I ever will, and I want you to be happy.
I’m letting you go, Brax, and I wish you so much happiness and jo—
“You’re leaving. Aren’t you?”
I dropped the pen, sucking in a breath. Brax stood, framed in the door, jaw clenched. He strode to the bed, trying to read my note upside down. His eyes fell to the silver bracelet on his pillow.
I bit my lip as he picked it up, staring, unseeing. The bracelet represented our future and I tossed it away so flippantly.
Leaving a note was cowardly, but face to face, I didn’t know if I had the strength. Find the strength. He needs to know the truth.
Dropping the paper, I walked to his side. “Yes. I’m leaving.”
Brax looked up, holding the bracelet tightly. “You were just going to go, Tessie?” Eyes blazed with hurt. “What about what I want?”
I placed a hand over his heart, looking into blue, blue eyes. “I am giving you what you want. What you need. I’ll always be your friend, Brax, but we’ve outgrown each other. I never wanted to hurt you, and by staying, I will.”
He hung his head, pressing his forehead against mine. “That’s not true. I need you.”
I sighed softly, “I think another needs you more.”
When he looked with an eyebrow raised, I added, “The neighbour you’ve been spending so much time with? I’ve seen you together, Brax. I know you have feelings for her.”
He gulped. “It’s not like that. Honestly. She moved in while you were… um… gone, and I’ve been helping her with some tough shit.” He dropped his voice. “Her dad and brother were killed in a house fire. Her mum died when she was a baby, and she’s got no one to turn to. I was only being nice.”
“What’s her name?”
He flinched. “Bianca.”
I hated the look in his eyes—the look where he expected me to scream and punch him. He had every right to care for another as lonely as him. Together, they would be each other’s everything. I wasn’t broken enough for Brax. My courage and strength kept a rift between us all this time.
Kissing him gently, I murmured, “Let me go. You’ll be happier, I swear it. The truth hurts less than fibs and fakers… remember?”
He swallowed hard, nodding once. He knew I spoke the truth. “Where will you go?” He gathered me into a hug.
I squeezed him back, but I couldn’t confess. “I’m not sure. But know that I’m happy and doing what I need to do.” Kissing his check, I pulled away. “I hope you’re truly content with whoever you end up with, Brax.”
He kissed me gently, smiling. “You’re going back to France, aren’t you?”
I froze.
“I’ve seen how different you are, Tess. I sleep next to you. I see how you wake up hot and bothered and sexy as hell. Something happened over there, and it changed you. I get it. What happened in Mexico changed both of us.”
I battled with embarrassment and awe. Brax saw more than I gave him credit. Shame made me blush. He was right. I had changed and I couldn’t undo it. I couldn’t change the fact he lay next to me while I dreamed of Q whipping and f**king me. He suffered in silence as I cried out in need.
Remorse settled heavy. “Brax, I’m so sorry.”
He laughed lightly. “Nothing to apologise for, Tessie. I knew we were different ever since you pulled out your vibrator. I’m not comfortable with that sort of thing, and I think I knew we’d go our separate ways that night. It hurt so much at the time, but now… I might be able to breathe with the thought of only having you as a friend.”
His acceptance let my heart fly free; I threw myself into another hug. “Stay in touch.”
Brax hugged me with endless comfort and kissed my cheek goodbye.
Our two year relationship ended on a friendly note, and I wished Brax the world.
Half an hour later, I strode from the apartment, wearing Q’s grey dress.
No belongings.
No trivial items that meant nothing.
Just me, my passport, and note from my master.
With a heart-winging smile, I left my world behind.
Chapter 24
*Kingfisher*
The flight to Paris took forever.
The train to Blios an eternity.
The moment I arrived in the village where I ran from Franco, a rainbow of feeling settled. Residual fear from the rape. Excitement at being so close to Q. Nerves at not knowing how he’d react. What if he hated me completely? What if he sent me away again? Stop those thoughts. One thing was for sure, Q would hear me out before he tossed me away again. He lived in the darkness? Well, I was about to bring hell on him if he didn’t listen.
Deciding to shed memories of running, with recollections of returning, I strode into Le Coq and approached the same woman. The roosters on the walls no longer wanted to peck my eyes out. They looked fat and content.
The women who didn’t believe I’d been kidnapped gawked as I approached the counter. My skin pricked with phantom panic from the rape, but I forced it away. It didn’t define me. It was over.
Her mouth hung open, watching with incredulous eyes.
“Bonjour. I’m looking for the Moineau residence. Quincy Mercer’s estate.”
Her jaw dropped further showing unhygienic teeth. “You…you came here claiming he kidnapped you. Now you want to go back?”
I smiled bright. “Yep. Makes sense, huh?” I didn’t elaborate, and tried not to laugh. I couldn’t stop bubbles of tentative happiness. I was doing something just for me. It was liberating.
She glared for ages; I didn’t think she’d answer, but finally she called into the kitchen, summoning a scruffy boy with hands covered in soapy bubbles. “Emmener la, à la résidence de Mercer.” Take her to Mercer’s estate.
I basked in the lyrical language of French. I missed it. I’d grown to love France and its language. Living back in Australia with the twangy accent and heat had never fit. Australia was bright and brash and wonderful. France was chic and refined and smouldered with passion.
The kitchen boy nodded, pushing a black cowlick from his eyes. I thanked the woman and followed the boy to a white van in the back alley. The same alley where I bolted from Franco.
I suffered a pang of terror at the thought of getting in the car with a stranger. I wouldn’t survive a repeat of Brute and Driver, but I steeled myself.
We didn’t say a word as we drove. Rolling hills and patchwork countryside flurried my heart erratically. Every mile, I was closer to Q. Every mile, I felt more and more confident. This was where I belonged. This was home.
We turned and drove through huge, imposing gates and the sound of gravel pinging beneath the car made sweat pool in my lower back. Nerves skittered, my mouth dry with worry.
Q’s pastel mansion came into sight, along with the horse fountain splashing with tiny rainbows in the mid-afternoon sun. Spring gave way to summer, and Q’s immaculate gardens rioted with colour. Butterflies fluttered while birds winged. An innocent paradise where a beast lurked. A beast that liked delicate things, but would never kill.
The young boy smiled as we pulled to a halt outside imposing pillars and cherub plasterwork. My heart firmly lodged in my throat. I couldn’t move. What am I doing?
“Nous sommes arrivés.” We’re here. He waved for me to exit.
I stared at the mansion, with everything bared. I can’t do this. Yes, you can. But what if… what if he refused to see me, or moved onto another slave… or…
The front door swung open.
I ducked in the seat, cowardice taking me hostage.
A very surprised Suzette stepped out, peering through the van’s windows. I tentatively waved; her mouth fell open.
The boy laughed, reaching across to open the door. I climbed out, frantically smoothing my grey dress, rubbing my cheeks, wishing I’d taken the time to present myself better.
A slight breeze sent a spritz of water from the horse fountain, dewing my skin, making me shiver.
Suzette and I didn’t move for a century.
I doubted any slaves returned once they were released. Then again, I was forcibly removed. I broke tradition by being unpredictable. Our eyes locked and I transmitted everything I felt in my gaze. Do you see how worthy I want to be? I came back for him. I came back for you. For this life. For everything he made me become.
Suzette inched forward, her black and white maid’s uniform sleek and pressed. Hazel eyes sparkled. “Ami? What… I don’t understand.” She stepped hesitantly. I closed the distance between us.
I resisted the urge to bowl her over in a hug. She covered her mouth as I smiled. “Bonjour, Suzette.” The sun burned through late spring haze, warming my skin. Whatever happened, I made the right decision. Q needed someone to fight. Q needed to be fought for.
I wanted to fight for him. I wanted to win him.
The pastel tones of the manor glowed with sun in pale greens, pinks, and decedent renaissance features.
I never wanted to leave.
Suzette squealed, launching herself into my arms. “You came back? Why would you do that? I thought you hated him, us, everything that happened. He threw you away. I thought you’d be plotting murder, not appearing out of the blue.”
I ignored the pang caused by the ‘throwing away’ remark. He didn’t. He did what the police told him. I wouldn’t hold a grudge… unless he kept being an arrogant ass**le, then I’d punch him.
Squeezing her back, I breathed in her scent of lavender and cleaning products. My heart thudded with so many memories. Suzette had been difficult. So loyal to Q, and her hard friendship hurt sometimes, but she was fierce and lived through much more than me.
My respect for her was a hundred fold.
Pulling away, I said, “I’ve had time to think. Q changed me, Suzette. He took the real me and set me free.” I smiled, remembering how fundamental birds were to Q. Speaking in his cryptic language, I added, “He opened my cage and allowed me to fly. I can’t help it if my freedom is here.”
She pulled back, a sly smile on her face. “You figured him out.”
Wrapping fingers with mine, she tugged toward the house. I put one foot in front of the other, focusing on breathing so I didn’t pass out. My heart hadn’t stopped thrumming since I boarded the plane. I felt sure it was nearing expiration.
“I had help from some drunken ramblings and Franco, but yes. I’m beginning to see him. I want to see more.” I looked around the massive foyer with its midnight blue staircase and huge works of art. My body spun with a thousand feelings; my stomach wouldn’t stop somersaulting.
She pecked my cheek, closing the door behind us, locking us into Q’s world. His domain. My future. “What day is it?”
I blinked. Crossing timelines and datelines muddled me. “Um, Sunday?”
A smile split her face. “It’s not a weekday.”
Oh, my God. My heart winged, soaring around the foyer. “He’s here,” I whispered. I couldn’t wait another moment. “Take me to him?”
Suzette grasped my hand, dropping her voice. “I’m so happy to have you back, Ami.”
