Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(49)

But they didn't watch me with pity like I expected. If anything their loyalty and respect increased.

A soft sigh echoed down the line. "I'm sorry. Just-"

"I'm going. Five days, Suzette."

"But! But, I have so many questions. Where do you want it? How many guests? What sort of vows?"

"That's for you to figure out-"

"Wait! Whatever you're doing, Q … just remember a person can only take so much before it's all over."

What the fuck?

I reared back, glaring at the phone as if it had somehow transmitted my idea down the line and into Suzette's thoughts.

Suzette was intuitive. Just like Tess.

I looked over my shoulder to the bathroom door. Fuck, if I was so obvious, what if Tess sensed what I was about to do? What if she'd run again?



       
         
       
        

Urgency and fear hijacked my legs. I stalked to the door, wrenching it open to glare into the bedroom. Tess hadn't moved, bundled tightly in the sheets.

I'm coming for you.

My headache raged with the finality of my decision.

I was done with the phone call. Every passing second was a second I could never get back. "Get it done, Suzette." I hung up. Shoving the phone into my pocket, I sucked in a ragged breath.

This was it.

No turning back.

The moment I started this, I had to keep going. Regardless if Tess swore, cursed, or wanted me to die. She might absolutely despise me afterward-but that was a risk I would take. For her. I would willingly wear her hatred if it meant I cured her.

Turning on the tap, I splashed my face with cold water, glaring at my reflection. Man the fuck up and do it.

Pacing to the door, I tore it open. My hands opened and closed as adrenaline filtered through my limbs.

Tess didn't wake, comatose with the devils inside her. If I had my way it would be the last nightmare she ever had. Tonight I would enter her thoughts and slaughter every last fucking one.

Prowling through the darkness, I found the wardrobe and wrenched it open. A small light came on, highlighting a multitude of dressing gowns. Towel, fleece, silk, and cotton.

Ripping out a silk sash, I ran the material through my fingertips. It was soft, cool, and black. Perfect.

Grabbing another belt from a cotton dressing gown, I yanked it to see if it stretched. Just a little give. Good to know.

With the belts clutched in my hands, I faced the bed.

Tess whimpered, her hands bunching the sheets. From here, her face was flushed, not deathly white. She was close to waking.

I moved forward, glad of the dark. It was my friend, my ally. The accomplice in what I was about to do.

The bed hit my knees. I climbed onto the mattress, crawling forward till I positioned myself hovering over Tess. My fists indented the bed either side of her head as she slept.

I allowed myself a moment to drink her in. To trace the almost disappeared bruises on her arms. To grow hard staring at her perfect figure. But it was the brand on her neck that enraptured me.

The angry burn settled the growling monster inside. She would never be able to remove the scar. She'd announced permanently she would never leave me. No matter what I did to her.

My heart lurched, willingly allowing a small flavour of anger and darkness to settle.

Tonight was the last night she would suffer. Tonight, I would kill the past and invoke a new future.

By doing to her what the other cocksuckers had done before.

I'd broken the hold of her rape by giving her a new memory. I took her in the shower-replacing Lefebvre with me-turning horror into something more liveable. 

I didn't think it would work. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do.

But it did work. And I had to believe it would again.

I was about to make Tess relive everything.

I was about to stamp out the past and replace each incident with a new memory.

I was about to kidnap my fiancée.





Bind our twisted perversions, love me dark, leave your mark. love my faults and imperfections

My night and day, my moon and sun, your light turns my black to glittering grey



"Do it, puta!"

I'd held off as long as I could. I'd fought and raged and been beaten for my troubles. But I couldn't disobey any longer.

I pulled the trigger.

The bullet lodged inside Blonde Angel's forehead.



With a whoosh of black swirls and icy wind, the dream unlatched its claws from my subconscious. Winds buffeted as Leather Jacket and blood and dead women snuffed out. I sailed up, up, up through the grotesque memories and back to reality.

Only this time. I didn't wake up to Q's arms around me and his kisses in my hair.

I woke up to a fate worse than death.

My instincts understood before my mind, dousing me in howling fear.