Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(58)

But no matter how hard I clambered to stay coherent I slid down and down, deeper and deeper.

Q groaned, his fingers diving harder. Now there were no lust sparkles or pleasure, now all I felt were bullets of shame. My hips spasmed backward, dislodging Q's touch. I couldn't do it anymore. His fingers fell away, leaving me empty and all alone.

I can't fight it.

My heart went sluggish, a curtain of drugs falling over me.

"Tess … " Q's voice lost its perfect baritone, morphing into my enemy. "I need to know the truth-why did you sacrifice yourself? Why did you let me almost rape you?" French accent traded for Spanish, and Leather Jacket swirled into being.

No longer hazy or unformed-every inch of him was real. The blindfold didn't keep images out anymore. I saw him plain as truth. His yellow-stained teeth and creaking, reeking jacket. His greasy black hair and dirty fingernails.

"Did you like my fingers inside you, puta?" Leather Jacket sneered.

Q. God, please let me wakeup. This couldn't be real.

I licked my lips, invoking courage I no longer had. "Let me go."

He shook his head. "Not until you answer me."

Tell him. Tell him before he hurts them!

Honesty exploded up my throat, not answering Leather Jacket-but Q. The admission was for him even though he no longer existed. "I wanted to make you happy. I'd gladly give you my life to do that."

Q suddenly appeared, smashing through the putridity, standing tall. "What do you mean?"

Wanting to answer before I was stolen away again, I said, "I would die for you, Q. That's what that means. All this talk of belonging to each other-well, you truly do own me. I would gladly give up my life if it meant you'd be happy."

Q disappeared again, replaced by Leather Jacket. His hand came from nowhere, spanking my thigh with a wicked hot strike. Burning tears flocked to my eyes.

"You still haven't answered my question. Did you like my fingers inside you, puta?" he asked. His voice smooth and coaxing but beneath it lived a layer of deadly steel.

I hiccupped with building tears. What's going on?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The ink completely stole my mind.

Then guilt crushed heavily. Blonde Hummingbird and Angel.

Their silhouettes appeared, bloody and bullet-ridden.

"If you won't answer my other question, perhaps you'll answer this. Did you enjoy hurting them? Did you enjoy murder?" Leather Jacket threw his head back, laughing. The sound cut right through me, dredging up everything I wanted to forget.

My tower stood taller, knowing I would have no choice but to step inside its circular walls if I wanted to survive.

I couldn't live in this limbo anymore. I couldn't live with these lies, these fears-this guilt.



       
         
       
        

I wanted to be whole. I wanted to be happy.

Leather Jacket grabbed a handful of my hair, tugging hard. The burn in my scalp sent bugs and beetles, residual from the drugs, skittering over my skin. Their feelers and creepy-crawly legs welcomed me back into the muck I'd lived in.

It wasn't often I craved another hit. I hated drugs-but in that moment I would've willingly traded anything for the smoggy numbness.

Whatever Q gave me wasn't enough. He'd pushed me overboard, letting me sink into my twisted mind, but it was too twisted-I would never be able to untangle the mess.

Give in. Give up.

"Please! Just let me go." I hated my weak confusion.

Leather Jacket shoved me, making me spin and dangle from the rope. Catching me after a circulation, he dragged me against his foul stench. "You're mine again. All mine. I'm never letting you go." He kissed my cheek, evil black eyes glowing. "We're equals, you and I. And I'm about to fucking show you."

Suddenly the blindfold was torn off. Q shattered the vision of Leather Jacket.

I sobbed, seeing him so clearly, even while a waterfall of gunk contaminated my mind. I hated drugs. Hated them! Hated what I became when I took them.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Ah, Tess. You're leaving me. But only for a little while." Leaning forward, Q captured my mouth in a gentle kiss. His lips were soft and sweet and perfectly Q. He didn't kiss deeply, or request access with his tongue. He just fed me strength-strength I sorely needed.

For one precious moment, I didn't need to fight. I knew who I was. I knew why I had to give in. We shared our love even while we acknowledged for the next few hours I would hate him.

There would be tears. There would be screams. There would be facing demons and a past that might ruin us. But if we survived, we would be unconquerable.

"Je t'aime," Q murmured, pulling away.

The curtain slammed down, shoving me face first into the cloying ink. It wasn't a matter of giving in-the drugs were the master now.