I frowned, side-tracked. “What do you mean?”
She smiled secretively. “I mean, I was like you. I didn’t let them break me.” She shook her head, snorting depreciatively. “However, unlike you, I wasn’t in slavery for two years. I’m the one who must say sorry. You’re far stronger than I am to endure such things and still be mentally intact, even if you do believe you’re in love—”
“You keep misunderstanding me. I am in love with Elder, and he’s in love with me, but he’s not the man who bought me.”
She pursed her lips. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
“He isn’t the man who bought me!”
“Just because he might’ve changed and grown to treat you fondly throughout your imprisonment, doesn’t mean he isn’t still the same man who bought you for pleasure.”
Ugh, I can’t handle this woman.
Crossing my arms, I fought the urge to cuff her around the head and demand she actually listen instead of regurgitating pamphlet information on a rescued slave’s mental health.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.”
Instead of matching my frustration with her own, she gave me a kind smile. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit I enjoyed some parts of those few months. The circumstances my master put me in...well, some were wanted while others were not.”
“Excuse me?” What sort of hypocrisy had I been dragged into? “So you can say you actually enjoyed being tortured, yet I can’t say I’m in love with the man who—”
Tess reached out and took my balled hands. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. That was super insensitive. I’m only trying to show you how nothing you tell me will be judged. I understand if you’re in love with him. I get that. I truly do. I also understand two years is a very long time, and you’re bound to have found some slivers of acceptability—enough so that your mind would warp what was normal behaviour and what wasn’t.”
She squeezed my fingers. “You’re not alone. Not by a long shot. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
“I know I’m not alone because Elder made sure I wasn’t. He was the first to show me how love should be.”
She nodded quickly, accepting what I said but still believing Elder was Alrik and not two separate people. How much longer would I have to repeat myself? Elder didn’t deserve to be thought of as a rapist. He wasn’t. He was my guardian angel. My genie. My best-friend.
Tess sighed heavily, almost as if she didn’t want to admit something. “Look, there’s something about you I find familiar, and I think it’s because I see myself in you.”
“I feel the same way.”
She grinned. “Good, then you can understand why I need you to hear me when I say I’m here for you—we all are. But returning to your normal life, going back to family and friends will be so much harder if you keep believing you’re in love with your past owner. I understand because I was sold to a man most would call a monster. I stood up to him like you stood up to me today. I told him I would never call him master. I spat at him. Ran away from him. Never, ever bowed to him.”
My heart hammered for the beatings she must’ve received. The horror she must’ve endured. “How-how are you still alive? How did you escape?”
She waved her hand as if her tale was nothing but a simple bedtime story. “I didn’t.”
Were all conversations with this woman going to be a riddle? What did she mean? “Who saved you then?”
She must’ve had a man like Elder. Someone who loved her so much they tracked her down and gave her a new life.
“He did.”
“Who?”
“My husband.”
“Ah.” I nodded as if I understood completely when I had no clue at all. But then I remembered who her husband was and what he’d dedicated his life to: hunting slaves and saving them. A vigilante with no moral compass. “Q saved you from your old master?”
So she does understand.
Our tales copied each other.
Tess shook her head. “Not in so many ways.”
My brain hurt. “In what ways, then?”
“He saved me from himself. He saved me from myself.” She sighed, finally revealing her sordid secret. “Q was the man I was sold to. He literally is my master first and husband second.”
My thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?”
She had the nerve to school me on my incorrect love choices, yet she’d fallen for the man she was sold to! At least, I’d fallen for the man who’d saved me from such a fate. She looked at me as if I was tangled and twisted when the only person who needed help was her!
“So, you see, I totally get it when you say you’ve fallen for your master.” Tess rushed, noticing my gobsmacked look. “I did the same thing. Only, after those first few months, Q never laid a hand on me that I didn’t want.” Her gaze dropped to my chest where fading bruises might always remain and to my arms where bumps from broken bones ruined slim line limbs. “I see how badly you were hurt, and I honestly want to slaughter the man who did that do you. To hear you say you love him? To have you sit here safe and far away from him and still do everything you can to return to his abuse? It’s more than I can stand. I can condone falling in love because I committed the same sin, but what I can’t condone is allowing you to believe the way he treated you is normal. It’s not. No matter what he tells you.”
The house switched from welcoming to mausoleum.
Scenarios and theories span out of control. Maybe I had it all wrong, and I wasn’t the recovering slave with issues but she was. Perhaps, she was held here against her will. Maybe, she’d been so conditioned she not only bowed to her master’s wishes but went along with his crazy ideas about saving women only to secretly condemn them instead?
What if this was an elaborate sham to lull women into thinking they were saved only to start the same cycle of mental and physical abuse all over again?
This was a trap. All of this was some disgusting mind game.
I have to leave.
Right now.
I shot upright, fear twining through my limbs. “Let me go. I want to go. Please, please let me go.”
Tess stood too, eyeing my gown. “Where would you go dressed like that?”
“Back to him. Back to the man who saved me.”
“I just told you. What you feel for him isn’t love, no matter how he spun it.” Her eyes flashed. “Q saved you. My husband saved you. You’re safe here. With us.”
“No, I’m not.” I bared my teeth. “I don’t know what you’re saying, but you’re sick. You tell me I’m wrong for falling in love with my rescuer, yet you fell in love with your owner. Which one of us is wrong in this scenario? I-I can’t believe this!” Dragging hands through my hair, I threw my own tale in the face of the strange one she’d told me. I’d been wrong when I thought she could be a friend—someone who traded the same existence I had. The woman before me had become corrupted by whatever her owner had done long ago. And she still believed in his lies.
“I’ve listened to you. Now, you listen to me. You have it all wrong. Like you, I was kidnapped and sold. Like you, I fought against my master and managed to keep a part of myself from his evil. I lived with him for two years, and they were the worst two years of my life. I have mementoes from that time. I have scars and nightmares. I have screams and silence. But that was over. Your husband didn’t save me from that master. He didn’t infiltrate that white devil mansion or take on the bastard who raped me. He didn’t help me shoot Alrik or carry me from that place with my tongue almost cut in two. He didn’t spend months making me come alive again, teaching me kindness instead of cruelty and love instead of hate. Your husband didn’t kill for me. He didn’t sail away with me. He didn’t fall in love with me.”
My dress whispered on the carpet, cascading over the rattle on the sheepskin rug as I stalked toward her. “Your husband did none of those things, but I’ll tell you who did. Elder Prest. The man I keep telling you about. The man you believe is my owner. Pay attention when I
tell you Elder was not my owner. He was my saviour, and you stole him from me!”
I shook with the need for her to understand, to see, to believe, to finally get how stupid she’d been. “Elder was that man. He did those things. He rescued me months ago and has been bringing me back to life ever since. You say I’m not broken. That I’m like you. But I’m not. I’m nothing like you. I was broken. I was all kinds of broken. Before Elder, all I wanted to do was die. I was days away from making that wish come true, so don’t say I’m like you. Don’t say they didn’t break me because they did. And only Elder had the power to bring me back. Don’t you dare look at me with pride or think you did me a favour. You didn’t.”
I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t prevent my snarl and snap. “You and your husband ruined the only good thing in my life. You stole me from the man who gave my life back. You destroyed everything. Don’t you see? Your husband shot him. He. Shot. Him. And I don’t know if he’s alive or dead or even where he is because you keep treating me as if I’m a child who doesn't know her own thoughts.”
Tears trickled down my face, unable to stay bottled up. The fissure of missing Elder echoed through me like an arctic gale. It hurt more than anything, and I wanted to pass that pain onto Tess who glowed with adoration whenever she mentioned the hated man named Q.
She could never be my friend because she’d married my nemesis.
“I’m done with this, with you, with that bastard you call your master. I’m done, do you hear me!” Stalking to the library double doors, I clutched my skirts and bowled through them tossing a livid growl over my shoulder. “Now you know the truth, I’m leaving. You can’t stop me. Don’t you dare try to stop me.” My voice wobbled but from anger instead of tears. “I’ll kill you if you do.”
Tess darted from the library as I beelined for the front door. “Wait—”
“Don’t!” I fumbled with the lock. “Just don’t. If you truly are in the business of saving slaves, then stay back and let me go.”
The lock sprung open; I wrenched the door wide. Dusk had fallen, casting everything in a haze.
I ran.
Tess didn’t try to grab me or shout, but she did chase after me, flying down the sweeping grand entrance, her feet bare like mine, equal slaps on marble.
I daren’t turn around or yell at her to stay away. I was out of breath, heart wild, mind manic; all I wanted to do was run. I didn’t care where at this point only that I had to get away from her.
Immediately.
A water fountain splashed merrily in the middle of the driveway, roosting birds filled the sky with chirps and twitters.
I hated the beauty of this place because it had come from the happiness of others.
“Wait, please!” Tess called, running after me but not trying to overtake. If her goal was to outrun me until I faltered, then she’d be running for a while.
I had enough adrenaline to power ten marathons.
Dashing past the fountain, I winced as asphalt switched to gravel. Hop-running, I darted for the grass verge just as a black car rounded the corner and coasted to a stop in front of me.
No!
Footsteps crunched behind me as the car’s back door opened and out stepped Q Mercer—my enemy.
His black suit matched his black aura, his jade eyes aloof and unreadable. I hated that he was handsome. I hated that he had the woman he loved. I hated everything he’d done to me.
But most of all, I hated what he held tucked close to his chest, protecting it with his body.
It wasn’t a gun or syringe in which to destroy my life.
It was something I wanted more than anything, and something I would never have.
A fat, squirmy baby in a green two-piece.
The strange image of a monster holding an infant slammed me into a brick wall, but it didn’t stop Tess running behind me.
Air rustled as she charged past, ran directly up to her husband, and instead of kissing him hello, or telling him to subdue me or even reaching for the baby cooing happily at her arrival, she braced her legs, raised her hand, and slapped her damn husband on the cheek.
Chapter Five
______________________________
Elder
DOCKING IN CALAIS didn’t settle me.
It made me worse.
We’d arrived at our destination, but I had no satisfaction, no men to slaughter, no place to invade.
I still didn’t have a clue where they might’ve taken Pim.
“What do we do now?” Selix asked as he entered my quarters and crashed to a stop when he noticed the desecration of my cello.
The pieces of my beloved instrument decorated every inch of the carpet. Tiny splinters and string smithereens. That was all that was left.
That’s all that will be left of the bastards who took Pim when I get my hands on them.
“We start hunting,” I growled, not looking up from my laptop where I’d typed some computer code to do an impossible but hopefully fruitful search. I triggered Pim’s true name again. I input physical descriptions of the men into the dark web where criminals proudly bragged about extorts and laundering. The dark web was where their resume and accomplishments hid, impressing or threatening other outlaws they wished to do business with.
I’d already looked up Sullivan Sinclair from Hawk’s masquerade and found he had a simple file. Men like him scared me the most—the ones who didn’t have the need to discuss their accomplishments because they either had too many to list or they were too dark to mention.
All he’d been willing to share was a PO Box with the cryptic tagline: provider of leisure and pleasure. In my world...new rules apply.
That was it. No photos of his services or inflated ego trips. Not even a business name. He was almost boring in the colourful underworld with no way to tell if he was lethal or law-abiding.
Unfortunately, even in my manic trawling for the men who’d shot me, I’d come up empty. Pim’s name didn’t herald any alerts. My digital composite of what I thought they looked like sank into internet obscurity. My options were running painfully thin.
“Should I get the car organised? Do you have any idea where they might’ve taken her?”
My head whipped up, my gaze narrowing on Selix. “No.”
“Want me to drive around anyway? See if we can find clues the old-fashioned way.”
“No.”
“What do you want to do then?”
My fingers—minus my broken one—flew over the keyboard, searching...always searching. “I want to fucking kill them.”
“Okay...” Moving to take a seat in front of my desk, he picked up a sliver of wood from my cello. Using it to clean beneath his fingernails, he muttered, “We’re in France but at a stalemate. Who’s to say they even have Pim here?”
“They have to.”
“Why?” He cocked his head. “They could live anywhere in Europe. Hell, they could be in China for all we know.”
“They’re from here, and they’re tied to their country. I believe they live here, and until something hints otherwise, I’m not leaving.”
Here I’m close to Pim.
Even if I can’t get to her.
“What info have you got so far?” Placing the cello shard on my desk, he watched me expectantly.
Stilling my fingers on the laptop, I reeled off, “They have to have money, judging by the getaway boat you described. They have to be involved in criminal activity to know how to hack into a police file. They have to be French because of their accents—they were thick, not watered down with different dialects or time overseas. They have to be trustworthy for someone to sell them the automatic guns they were using. They have to be—”
Selix held up his hand. “Okay, I sense your OCD coming out to play here, Prest. How about you tone it down some? Give me something to do instead of taking it all on yourself?” Pointing at my multitude of injuries and bandages, he added, “I know you’re fully capable of ripping the entrails from these motherfuckers but let me help.” H
e hung his head. “Let me ease some of the guilt for not helping in time last night.”
I wanted to bellow that he could help by leaving me alone; that a part of me blamed him for not coming sooner while another part was glad because if he hadn’t been on the dock, he might’ve been shot too, and we both would’ve drowned.
My thoughts were a tangled fucking mess; I’d be the first to admit I was close to losing it. I couldn’t afford to lose my cool and yell because if I let go, everything would come pouring out. I’d blame him and me and even Pim.
I’d give in to the itch inside my brain to find a logical explanation for how and why this had happened. I was so fucking close to going crazy that I clutched to rationality with bloodied fingernails.
Focus on Pim and only Pim.
Once she was safe, then I could work through the rest of my shit.
“Just...let me do this, all right, Selix?” I looked up, sighing with pain and exhaustion. With every keyboard peck, my elbow and shoulder screamed. With every shift, my ankle and ribs cried.
I hated how weak I was.
I hated everyone because of it.
Holding eye contact, he gnawed on his bottom lip before nodding slowly. Glancing away, he shifted in his chair and pulled out my weed tin from of his pocket.
With a wry smile, he smoothed out a paper, spread a generous amount of dried skunk, then licked the seam and rolled. Holding out the fat joint, he grabbed the lighter from my desk. “Do it your way, Prest. I’ll be there to help exterminate when you find them.”
It wasn’t often I was speechless, but I had nothing as I took the joint, pressed it between my lips, and lit the end. The spicy smoke gushed into my lungs as I inhaled deep.
If my go-to saviour could keep my mind on one thought and my pain far away, then I might have a chance to find Pim sooner rather than later.
Because one thing was for sure, I wasn’t leaving the Phantom until I had a name and address.
And once I did...well, war was coming, and I didn’t care who would be making my enemies’ funeral arrangements.