Quintessentially Q
Page 13

I blinked. I didn’t think I’d ever grow to be completely comfortable around Q. He saw too much, knew too much about what happened in the sex slave industry.
The property business wasn’t where Q’s heart lay. It was consumed by broken birds. Healing wings, granting purpose to otherwise dead women. He was the glue to so many fractured families finding happiness again.
I couldn’t stop staring at him in a mixture of awe and uncertainty.
He frowned, placing his hands on my shoulders, branding me, his thumbs stroking gently. “You’re safe here, Tess. I won’t let anything hurt you. You have my ultimate word on that.” He lowered his head, eyes unreadable and fierce. “You need to rest.”
I shook my head, horrified at letting him down on the first day. “No, I’m fine. Give me a moment and I’ll be ready to become your doting employee.” I smiled, but it was watery.
Even though I forced myself to be rational, to acknowledge that this was a safe place and Q would fend off the devil for me, I couldn’t stop the froth of fear curdling in my stomach.
Get a f**king grip, Tess.
Q’s body tensed, his jaw flexed. I swore he had some overactive sense that knew when I lied and was truly afraid. He had the nose of a predator, and in that moment I was weak and strung-out prey.
“Maybe you’re right. I’m so sorry, Q.” The thought of going anywhere else and meeting a bunch of new people gave me the hives.
He dropped his hands, nodding. “No need to apologize.”
Slowly, some of the tension uncoiled from my limbs, leaving me shaky. Would I always suffer repercussions of what happened? I thought I was stronger than that. All along I thought I wasn’t broken, but maybe they fractured me just enough to stop me from healing completely.
I felt like a coward. I let my instincts override rational thinking, making me fear an illusion.
Q took a deep breath, ridding himself of the angst visible in his shoulders. He smiled softly as his pale eyes warmed. “I have a meeting I’m late for. I want you to stay here and relax. Watch a movie, feed the birds, go for a bath. Do whatever you want.”
He captured my hand, tugging me closer. “The moment I’m done, I’ll come back, and we’ll go for a nice dinner, or order up, I don’t care. Tomorrow is soon enough to share you.”
I smiled, looping my arms around his powerful back, letting him make me forget that I made a fool of myself. “You don’t want to share me?” I murmured against his chest. A rush of gratitude filled me once again for being sold to such a strange, but moral man.
My fate could’ve been so, so much worse. I was eternally lucky.
He chuckled; the sound resonated in my ear, making my world right again. “No. I wished I never said you’d work for me. I’d rather keep you chained and subservient to me at home.”
I laughed, and the last of my apprehension melted away.
Q wanted me, Q would protect me, and eventually Q would love me.
Me, the girl with nothing but a broken mind.
*****
Q left me alone in his heaven-high office, heading to his meeting, donating his attention to something greater than me. I kissed him goodbye by the elevator before walking reluctantly back into the building.
Why he had to go downstairs for the meeting was beyond me. But watching the birds flying free, and the manicured gardens, I could understand him wanting to keep this as private zone where only he was allowed to enter. And now me.
I clenched my hands as I re-entered Q’s space. The wash of instincts screamed at me, freezing my limbs, but I ignored it. For the first time in my life, I willingly told my instincts to shut the f**k up.
Q’s office was simple, elegant. No heavy wood like his library at home, or the over-decoration of animal hides in the lounge. This was purely him. A place untouched by his father, an uninherited space.
It seemed he liked cold and stark—if his furniture was to go by: a glass desk with four skyscrapers holding up the corners, white artwork with silhouettes of all types of birds in flight, and a massive skylight completed the space. Splashes of colour came from scattered cushions and strategically placed scale models of hotels and building complexes.
It was perfect, but empty. A feeling of abandonment rose and I squashed it. I had no reason to feel abandoned. Q told me to relax and, to be honest, I needed to.
For the next half an hour, I paced in Q’s office. I stared at the artwork, flipped through some of the folders full of building permits and regulations, and went for a stroll outside.
Anxiety made me jumpy and twice I thought I saw a shadow lurking out of place, only to find a cloud had rolled in over the sun.
I couldn’t keep this up. My heart hurt from racing so much, and my mouth was dry. My entire body shivered from being damp with nervous sweat.
I have a date tonight with a man I desperately want to know. I couldn’t go smelling like a homeless woman.
Taking Q’s suggestion, I headed back inside and swallowed my fear to head down the corridor in search of the bathroom. I came across a bedroom which was four times the size of my old apartment with a crisply made bed and a mountain of fluffy cushions. The entire end of the bedroom opened with bifold doors to bring the outside courtyard in.
Innocent and white perfection came to mind. It was so unlike Q’s tower room it was laughable.
I found the bathroom off the bedroom and smiled in anticipation.
If the helicopter, Rolls-Royce, and Q’s incredible building hadn’t impressed me with his wealth, the luxury in every corner of this bathroom did.
One wall was completely covered in mirrored tiles, giving the sense of never-ending space and repeating possibilities. The two-sink vanity was laden with small soaps and tiny crystal bottles.
The shower could’ve held a football team with a metre-long showerhead, but it was the bath that called to me.
Tuscan inspired with steps leading upward before disappearing into a heavenly deep plunge pool. Silver jets for bubbles riddled the sides and plush pillows lined the rim.
If anything could rid me of my anxiety, it would be this bath.
Turning on the waterfall tap, I headed back into the bedroom to see if I could borrow something of Q’s to wear after my soak.
The walk-in wardrobe buffeted me with notes of citrus and musk. Q’s signature scent wrapped its arms around me and took away my loneliness. God, he smelled delicious.
My body hummed, missing him, looking forward to when he returned. Every shirt I rifled through sent my mind swimming.
Deciding on a pale jade shirt, the same colour as Q’s eyes, I held it to my nose and inhaled. Q’s darkness, his temptation, shot up my nose and deep into my heart.
My pulse increased, needing him. My body belonged to him, set alive by his scent, touch, and voice.
Damn you, Q, for leaving. I wanted nothing more than to take a bath together. Maybe when he returned, he could join me.
I needed to reaffirm that all of this was real. This wealth, this future, this life I now lived. Without him to remind me, it all seemed like a ridiculous dream.
The mirrors were fogged and weeping with condensation when I returned. Clouds of hot steam enveloped me, instantly saturating my skin with airborne droplets. The last of my irrational fear receded, turning me limp and eager to slip into the water.
Removing my clothes, I redid my ponytail into a messy knot and stepped into the scalding hot bath. It blanched my skin as I submerged. Gritting my teeth, I bore through the temperature, letting my skin grow accustomed to the onslaught. Every whiplash sparked with extra agony, irritated by the heat.
The instant I was fully covered, the water lapped and coaxed, easing the last remaining kinks from my body.
The entire bathroom wept around me; dew even dripped from the ceiling. It was like being in a private water world where nothing but happiness could reach me.
*****
I went from sleep to drowning in two seconds flat.
One second my head was above water, drifting in dreamland and fantasies, the next I was pushed deep in the tub and pinned to the bottom. Reflexively I inhaled, filling my lungs with useless, killing water.
I kicked and squirmed, trying to get purchase on whoever held me down, but the fist in my hair wouldn’t allow any leeway.
What the f**k?
It’s not Q. Please don’t let it be Q.
I knew he had black desires, but I didn’t believe he would drown me just for kicks. I didn’t believe he’d be that cruel. Not the man who raged when he thought he couldn’t protect me from my panic attack. Not the man who smiled so sweetly when we finished f**king in the helicopter.
All the rage and anger that I embraced when I was kidnapped raced into being. I lost the softness, the dependency Q gave me and revved with survival energy.
I scratched at the wrist holding me down, digging deep with sharp nails.
My assailant jerked, trying to un-pry my fingers with his other hand, but I didn’t let go until blood grew slippery under my fingernails.
A moment later the hand on my head loosened, and I shot upright.
Water erupted from my mouth as I choked and heaved, gasping for breath. Twisting in the water, I snarled. My heart pumped once and died.
I wished I’d stayed under water.
No. No, no, no. It can’t be true.
Leather Jacket sneered, his black eyes filled with the same atrocious evil they’d held in Mexico. His body leered toward me as he wriggled his dirty fingers. “Hello, slut.”
The panic attack.
Shit, Tess. It wasn’t a panic attack—it was real! My instincts knew. They knew all along, and I ignored them.
Hot furious tears threatened to fall as I bared my teeth. “Get the f**k away from me.” My eyes darted around the bath, looking for a weapon. Nothing but fluffy pillows and bars of moisturising soap.
Leather Jacket laughed, running a hand through his greasy hair. “That’s no way to be nice. I’ve missed you and your nice tits.” He cocked his head, tutting under his breath. His eyebrow raised taking in the red lashes on my stomach. “I hear you’re proving to be a bad investment, and my boss hates bad investments.” His Spanish accent thickened as his eyes slithered down my body. “Looks as though someone else decided you needed punishing too, huh?”
Wrapping my arms around my nakedness, I shouted, “I’m no longer yours to torture. I belong to another. Someone who will be extremely pissed if you lay one finger on me.” My teeth started to rattle, despite the humid air and hot bath.
I can’t let him take me. I can’t.
“If you leave now, I’ll forget you were here. I won’t tell my owner to hunt you down and rip you apart.” All I wanted was for Q to appear and blow Leather Jacket’s brains all over the bathroom walls. Killing him had been my intention ever since I left Brax.
Leather Jacket threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, slut. Your so-called owner won’t be a problem for much longer.” He inched closer, leering down at me. “He did a very bad thing. Time for him to pay.”
I pushed off to the other side of the bath, but Leather Jacket moved like a demon. He jumped into the tub, clothes and all, and grabbed a chunk of my hair. His metallic stench filled my nose as he forced my head under the water again.
I thrashed, I wriggled, I tried not to scream, but the sheer terror erupted my lungful of air into hot water.
The heavy thud, thud of my heart went wild as I inched closer to drowning.
The agony lasted forever while my lungs screamed and died a painful death, but at the last second, he hoisted me up, dragging me to the edge of the tub.
Clinging to the side, I sucked in hungry gasps, choking on droplets running over my face.
“Now that you’re clean. Get the f**k out. We have somewhere to be,” Leather Jacket ordered.
“What—?” I couldn’t finish, heaving for breath. “I’m not going anywh—”
With a savage jerk, he pulled me upright. I screamed, trying to free my hair from his claws. He tugged so hard chunks tore from my scalp. “Let me go!”
I twisted, trying to get his wrist to bend enough to get free. He was too strong. My weak body wobbled and weaved after nearly drowning. I cursed my body for failing. I couldn’t fight.
He hauled me from the tub and against his horrible body. The cold zipper of his jacket dug into my na**d br**sts as he breathed rancid breath over me. “Not gonna happen. Time to take a little ride.”
I lashed out and kneed him square in the balls. He dropped me, clutching at the towel rail in agony. I didn’t wait another second. With my head pounding and strands of hair falling to the floor, I bolted.
Straight into another man.
His arms whipped around me and his unnatural broken smile crushed all my hope of freedom.
Jagged Scar.
The man who held me down while the bitch tattooed and inspected me. The same bitch who inserted a tracking device into my neck.
Fuck.
The tracker! I wanted to kill myself for being so stupid. The moment I arrived in Australia I went on the waiting list for a day surgery to remove. But they kept pushing me back—emergencies bumping me down the line. There was nothing I could do, and then I went back to Q.
For four days I romanced and teased the man I’d returned to. I didn’t even stop to think about such a life-threatening device tracking my every move.
Shit, Tess! I should’ve told him. I should’ve made sure it was removed straight away. I should’ve butchered my own body to remove it.
This was all my fault.
Jagged Scar clicked his tongue. “Just realized, didn’t you? I have to admit, people tend to forget about that part.” He sighed, sounding almost apologetic. “It really is a shame to do this, but your circumstances have changed.”
My brain couldn’t focus on one thing. Run, fight, run. Trembling, I said, “They were paid for me. Let me go. Please.”