Je Suis a Toi (Monsters in the Dark Book 4) (12 page)

THE DRIVE HOME was a fucking nightmare.

Courage, the damn puppy, was given prime of place on Tess’s lap while I drove the Aston Martin to the brink of its engine capacity. Frederick, Franco, Suzette, and Angelique had returned the same way they’d arrived—in my helicopter—while Tess and I left the large castle behind, following the curved driveway and hitting the patchwork countryside of rural France.

I’d had the good mind to make Tess fly home with them.

I needed some space to get over my fucking self and find peace again. And I couldn’t do that with Tess silent beside me.

We hadn’t discussed it.

I hadn’t been able to sleep, and at some point in the night, the damn puppy needed to piss. Against my wishes, I’d scooped him up and crept through the sleeping castle. I didn’t want to be swayed by the animal. I didn’t want to fall in love with the breakable body and overly trusting spirit. But in that moment of just man and beast, with frost for company and moon for illumination, I couldn’t stop the thawing in my heart.

And with the thawing and affection for another creature came the awful conclusion that what I’d been trying to convince myself I didn’t need these past few months was more than just a need. It was past rational sense or understanding. It was deeper than that. It was a part of me, and I had no fucking clue how to tell Tess that I was a failure to her. That I’d let her down. Let
myself
down. And I only had myself to blame.

When we drove past the turn-off to the barn where we’d stopped and fucked before our picnic, Tess huffed softly, lacing her fingers with mine on the gearshift.

I flinched but didn’t tug away. I permitted the contact and even managed to smile while swallowing every agonising thought into my gut.

How did people do this? How did they allow themselves to become so weak and desperate for things they had no right to want? What happened to my cold-hearted bastard self where I needed nothing and no one? Why couldn’t I remain such a beast who was satisfied with pain and pleasure from his
esclave
? Why did I have to fucking grow up?

The awful questions kept me company the entire drive. Tess remained silent, petting Courage, who’d fallen asleep and snored on her lap.

When we finally arrived home, the day was done and so was I.

Leaving the chateau staff to unload our belongings and place the Aston Martin back in the garage, I launched myself from the car and waited until Tess passed me the dog. I escorted her inside, took a deep breath, and said, “I need some time alone,
esclave
.” Passing her the puppy, I glanced away. “I love you, but please…let me sort myself out on my own. I don’t want to take this out on you.”

Her chest rose as if preparing for a fight. Her eyes glowed with agony, unable to understand why I wouldn’t let her in.

I wanted to.

Fuck, how I wanted to.

But I couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

Not looking back or paying any attention to the sudden flurry of dog feet hurtling from the lounge, I strode to the staircase and headed down into the gaming room and my fully stocked cellar of expensive whiskey.

I needed to forget.

I needed to drink…

For just a little while.

“DO YOU KNOW what’s going on, Suzette?”

Suzette tucked dark hair behind her ear, shaking her head. “No idea.”

We’d convened in the kitchen—where we always seemed to gravitate—after an uneventful dinner.

Franco spent the evening patrolling the chateau and briefing his security staff on the week ahead. Q hadn’t returned from his gaming room meltdown. And Mrs. Sucre had the night off.

I’d hoped Suzette would help me. After all, she’d been key for me understanding Q at the beginning. She had a sixth sense where her employer and friend was concerned. Then again, so did I.

When we’d arrived home, he couldn’t wait to be on his own. He couldn’t even look at Courage or the other puppies as they came charging from the lounge. Considering he was so attentive and kind to those in need, he didn’t relax around the dogs—almost as if their juvenile charm angered him rather than soothed.

They were only dogs. All they wanted was love. He spent hours caring for his birds…so what was the difference?

I spent another few minutes with Suzette, drowning in questions and worry before I retired to my bedroom. Q wasn’t there, and I deliberated whether I should encroach on his personal space and demand an explanation.

But he’d promised he would tell me within a week.

The week wasn’t up yet.

And I’d vowed to stop being angry and give him space. I didn’t want to hurt him when he was already hurting.

So, instead of doing what I wanted, I forced myself to relax in a bath, and when I finally slipped into bed, I stared at the ceiling for hours waiting for Q to join me.

In all the years of our marriage, we’d never slept apart.

I had to trust that tonight would be no different. He would come to bed. He wouldn’t shut me out so completely.

I was right.

As the glowing screen of my phone showed two a.m., Q finally entered our tower bedroom. His dark silhouette glowed in stark contrast to the white rug as he stripped dark jeans and black t-shirt and climbed into bed.

I lay there, not wanting to damage an already damaged situation, but I couldn't stomach the silence anymore.

I expected him to be drunk. But no whiskey fumes swirled off him.

I bit my lip.

Damn
.

It would’ve been easy to get a reaction out of him if he’d been drunk. That was how I got him to string me up and fully show me what he was capable of the first time. He unlocked his cage when he consumed alcohol.

As a few minutes ticked past and we lay stiffly side by side, I’d finally had enough.

Sitting up, I turned on the bedside light, grabbed the black bag Q had used in
Castelnaud-des-Fleurs,
and unzipped it.

Q propped himself up on his pillows never taking his eyes off me as I loaded the tattoo gun, reached across and removed his wedding ring. Silently, I requested he hold his hand strong and sure.

Without a word, he obeyed.

He let me turn on the vibrating needle and ink his skin with the same inscription he’d done for me.

Je suis à toi
. I’m yours.

The words made me his possession. But it did the opposite.

I felt as if I tied a rope between us, staking claim once more that he was mine. With every letter I scrawled, I reaffirmed the vow that he belonged to me in sickness and in health, in happiness and in strife. No matter what he was going through or the fear and pain he refused to share, I would be there for him.

When I’d finally finished and placed the now quiet tattoo gun back into the bag, I whispered, “You’re mine, Q. I’ll be here until you want to talk. And then…when you do, I’ll accept whatever it is you’re dealing with. We’ll get through it together.”

Sighing heavily, Q clutched me to his side. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bastard.”

“I just wish you’d tell me.”

“I will. I promise.” Kissing the top of my head, his powerful arm stretched above us and turned out the light.

Darkness cocooned us, reminding me that we’d found each other in this painful black void and made it our home. Q would do anything for me and me for him.

Having his warmth surrounding me finally stole some of my anxiety, and I relaxed into him.

His chest rose and fell, his heartbeat thudding gently against my spine.

I loved this man.

With all my heart and soul.

He was more than just my master and friend—he was my life. 

“Je t'aime, Q.”
I love you.

His arms banded exquisitely tight.
“Je t'aime avec toutes les ombres du monde pour l'éternité.”
I love you with all the shadows in the world for eternity.

Sighing, I fell asleep with our bodies entwined.

At least physical distance didn’t exist between us anymore.

Tomorrow, I’d work on the emotional gap and guide my husband back to me.

I WAS BEING a fucking bastard.

I knew that.

I knew it, but I couldn’t change it.

Every time I tried to talk about what hurt me, my throat clammed up and my heart bucked out of control. When Tess had tattooed me last night, she’d given me more than I could’ve asked for. She gave me time to sort my shit out and the courage in which to do it.

I wouldn’t return home without having the balls to get this over with and tell her. She deserved to know, and I deserved to make peace with it so I could move the fuck on with my life.

Placing my wedding ring on the desk (ignoring medical protocol for new tattoo healing just like Tess had), I traced the dainty lettering on my finger left by my incredible wife and wrenched open the locked cupboard beneath the stationary drawer.

I had a private stash for days full of stressful business. I rarely touched it and never thought I’d be stressed where Tess was concerned—not now she was safe and forever mine.

Last night, I had full intentions of getting ridiculously drunk. I’d even taken my time selecting a perfect bottle of liquor. I’d sat in my leather chair and glowered at the pool table where I’d first hurt Tess. But something had stopped me from pouring the first shot.

Yes, I wanted to drink to rid this crushing desire inside me. But I also needed to be an adult. I wasn’t a fucking animal—as much as I gave myself that excuse. I was human. I was a man. These new needs had just fucked me up, and it was time to tell them to piss off because I didn’t know how else to deal with them.

However, if I drank, that conviction would fade. I might actually get on my knees in front of Tess and tell her everything I’d been keeping a secret. And no fucking way did she need to see me that way. Who knew what she would do when I finally found the spine to tell her.

No, alcohol wasn’t the right path last night. I needed to be truly honest with myself and see how deep these new desires went before numbing them.

It’d taken hours. My mind had raced. A headache had formed. But at least an answer had solidified.

Now, I knew.

I knew that it wasn’t a superficial dream. Somehow, this craving had become a part of me, and until I knew why I couldn’t have what I wanted, I wouldn’t give up hope. Sitting downstairs alone, I’d made a deal with my beast.

I promised that if I could collar it for a time, shove its dark needs deep, deep inside me, then perhaps I might be worthy of getting what I wanted.

It was a fucking ridiculous thought. A shrink would have a field day with me. But it was how I felt, what I believed, and nothing would convince me otherwise.

Frederick knocked on my door, letting himself in before I approved—like he always did. The day had been busy, going over a new merger and making sure every last bit of paperwork was finalised for the new investments on our books.

He knew more than I did about what I was going through. Not because I’d told him but because he was the one who’d guessed before I had.

Smug bastard.

Pinching two crystal glasses on the silver tray by my bookcase, he settled into the Eames chair facing my desk and wiggled the two goblets for me to fill.

I obeyed without speaking.

Pulling the expensive liquor from my cupboard, I sloshed a generous amount into both. Stoppering the bottle, I picked up the cool glass and clinked with his.

With a nod, we threw back the fire.

Hissing between my teeth, I immediately refilled and drank again.

My friend’s eyes burned into me.

I wanted him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He’d never given me room to mope in my past, and he sure as hell wouldn’t now. He believed I’d grown up; lost my diabolical need to hurt. What he didn’t know was I was better at negotiating deals with the monster living inside me. Those needs weren’t gone. The anger and rage at the filth of the world hadn’t faded. If I could trade places with one of the mercenaries I’d hired and kill a few traffickers with my bare hands, I would. I wasn’t growing soft in my old age. I was growing more and more lethal.

Tess recognized it.

I recognized it.

It was yet another reason why I’d condemned myself to this future. Because the alternative was too fucking terrifying to contemplate.

“Have you told her yet?” Frederick refilled his glass, keeping pace with me. Thank hell the helicopter was on standby to take me home because we would be over the limit within minutes.

Fuck it.

Last night, I’d restrained myself. I’d had the strength to soul search and compartmentalize what I needed to say to Tess. Tonight was about giving myself some freedom.

If Frederick wanted to drink with me, then fine and fucking dandy. “No.”

“Will you tell her?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

I shrugged, taking another shot.

“You have to get it out in the open, Q. You’ve never kept any secrets before.” He massaged his neck from working all day. “Besides, she’s already guessed. She said she’d seen the paperwork. She’s smart.”

“I know she’s smart. But I’ve given no indication of wanting this before now. I even told her at the start of our relationship that I didn’t want it at all. Why would she put two and two together?”

“Because she’s your wife and she loves you. She feels what you do.”

I shook my head. “She feels what I
want
her to feel.”

Could she have guessed? Would she tell me if she had?

Frederick laughed. “If you believe that, then you’re an idiot. Wives know more than us. A lot more.” Tapping the paperwork proud and centre on my desk, he added, “This charity proves that you can have what you want just in a different way.”

“I don’t want it that way.”

“Well, it might be the only way unless you man the fuck up and find out once and for all.”

I tossed back a double, wincing as the burn incinerated my insides. “I already know what I’m doing wrong.”

Frederick paused. “You do?”

I nodded. “I’m hurting her. Whenever we fuck, I go too far. She says she likes it but what if she’s lying? What if she’d said no...at the start? Would I have found the strength to stop? Would I be better now?”

“If you start chasing answers to those questions, you’ll drive yourself insane.” Frederick slowed his drinking while I threw back another and another.

My vision lost its sharpness, but I didn’t give a damn. If I had to crawl home, I’d be fine with that.

“I don’t need to chase. I have answers.”

“Don’t torture yourself, Q. That stupid conclusion you came to last week isn’t the reason.”

“Fuck, it has to be. What else?”

“Anything more believable, that’s what.” Frederick suddenly stood up. “You know what? Go home. Talk to your wife. I’m not doing this with you. Only she knows exactly what you guys get up to. She’s the one who will tell you you’re being a fucking idiot.”

I stood up, bracing my fists on the desktop. “Don’t call me a fucking idiot.”

Frederick chuckled, moving toward the door. “Go home, Q. Talk to her. It’s the only thing you can do to get this mess sorted out.”

He didn’t let me retaliate.

Slipping through the door, he closed it with a soft click.

I itched to throw his empty glass at the wood but refrained. Just.

He was wrong that going home and talking to Tess was the only thing I could do.

I had other alternatives.

Such as sitting here drinking and finding liquid courage to do what was needed.

Forgoing the glass, I tipped the bottle straight to my lips.

Who needed a goblet when it all ended up in my stomach anyway?