Twisted Together

“You’re not out of your mind.”

Q snarled, “I am.” He punched himself in the chest. “How else do you explain my reasoning to do what I just did? How could I? To you—my God, Tess, you’ve already been through so much without me putting you through more. Fuck!” He punched the mattress, his knuckles pounding the sheets.

I shifted closer, welcoming the heat of his anger. “Whatever you were trying to do, it was for the right reasons.”

Q snorted, looking manic. “The right reasons? And what if I can’t remember it? What if I got so caught up, I let you think they’d come back for you? What sort of f**ked-up bastard does that?” He shook his head, breaking eye contact. “You don’t know what it felt like. Having you fight me—truly, truly fight me. You were so f**king fierce, and I wanted nothing more than to take you hard.”

His hand fell to grip between his legs. “I want you so f**king bad, esclave. It’s tearing me up inside to even admit that—admit to wanting to take you by force, especially after what happened today.”

His lips pursed; he shook his head with weighty sadness. “Les bonnes raisons …merde…” The right reasons…shit…

My heart rabbited at the immense pain in his voice. Whatever he’d been trying to do, I hated to think of him so lost. He had blood on his hands for me. It was a debt I would never be able to repay. If he wanted to take me—to crave the lust inside—then I’d let him.

Cursing my bound hands—needing to hold him and offer forgiveness, I inched closer. “Tell me. What were you going to do?”

He laughed suddenly; it was laced with dark disbelief. “That’s the screwed-up thing. I didn’t have a complete plan. I was working on instinct—trying to help you.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I want to fix you.”

My heart softened, weeping at his confession. “You are fixing me. Every day you’re helping by being you. You have to believe in yourself.”

Q muttered something. I didn’t push him to repeat, and the room fell into a hushed silence once again.

Another block of time passed while we sat in our own thoughts.

Q finally said, “No matter how many ideas I chase, they all lead back to one.” Sitting taller, he straightened his shoulders. “If I said I might have a way to stop your nightmares, would you let me do it?” He stared hard, eyes probing deep. “Would you trust me, even though I can’t promise I can control myself? Would you still let me try?”

I didn’t need to contemplate. We both knew we were at the end. There would be no going forward unless we accepted our demons and began working together to abolish them. We’d been kidding ourselves up to this point—believing in a future that didn’t exist.

My voice rang true. “Absolutely.”

Q sighed heavily. “You give me too much, Tess.”

“I’ve given you my soul.” I shrugged to show how little it truly was. “It’s yours, Q, because I’ve taken yours in return.”

His mouth stayed silent, but his eyes let me glimpse just how tortured and savage he truly was. He had a personal vendetta against my nightmares. Whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be conventional, approved, or even safe, but confidence slowly replaced my panic.

If I said yes, it would be exactly as if I’d been taken all over again. Two options: live or die. Survive or give-up.

Q took a deep breath. Unfolding himself from the bed, he stood on long muscular legs, dressed in tailored black. “Tu me fais confiance, esclave?” Do you trust me, esclave?

The question was loaded with so much unsaid. I did trust him. But there was still part of me that feared him.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Q’s hands curled. “Another lie. But if you let me, I’ll turn it into a truth.”

My heart picked up its beat. There would be no turning back. No admitting we’d made a mistake. Just like when Q let me whip him, this would either fix us for good or ruin us forever.

Please…let me survive. Please let Q survive.

“I believe you.”

I wanted to be free of the past. To cut ourselves from the tethers of madness and horror. To start our marriage completely free.

Q’s face tightened with barely concealed rage. “I want to take you back. I want to give you peace. I want us to find each other in our own perfect unsullied darkness.” His eyes glowed with passion. Despite how hard this would be for him, he vowed to set aside his needs purely to fix me.

Regardless if he would be able to do it—I would let him try.

I nodded, ignoring the flash of panic in my heart. I was so fragile. Q had every power to break me for eternity. Break my soul, my mind, splinterize my entire existence.

I hope he does.

My eyes widened.

I hope he smashes everything away.

Maybe Q had the power to eradicate my cracks and fissures—demolishing everything I was in favour of a brand new me—making me blissfully complete.

Q moved, motioning for me to come closer. I used momentum to jump from my knees to feet; my legs cramped from kneeling. My wrists stayed locked together as I traversed the small distance.

The moment I got close, his strong hands landed on my waist. His touch was a threat. His touch was a promise.

His head bowed, lips coming within millimetres of mine. “I’m going to have to make you believe in order to make you free. Do you understand?”

Not really. But I nodded. The freedom of putting myself completely into his control was beautiful.

“Everything I do, even if I lose myself along the way, remember I love you so f**king much. I’m doing this for you. And afterward…I’m going to make you my wife.”

My heart sprouted wings and for a moment I felt like a sparrow escaping a hunter’s net. His promises made me shudder with longing. I wanted that. God, how I wanted that.

Q nuzzled my nose with his, such a sweet gesture—so tame and normal. My stomach twisted into untieable knots. “If there was another way, I’d do it, but I can’t see one. This is our crescent-moon, Tess. It’s more important than any honeymoon; it’s about us fighting our demons, so they don’t taint our future.”

Pulling back, his pale eyes locked with mine, ensnaring me, sending my heart whirling. “You and me. We need this.” His accented voice was hoarse and impassioned and swept up with promises. Q was right.

We needed this.

More than we knew.

“I’m yours for however long you need, maître.”