Twisted Together - Winters Pepper (онлайн книга без txt) 📗

“I won’t go into my captivity—but I will say that when Mr. Mercer arrived, I didn’t want to live anymore. I was ready for death. I craved death. But he wouldn’t let me.”

My lungs stuck together. My own ordeal swamped me. Not only had Q fought to get me home, he’d sacrificed so much to bring me back to a life I no longer wanted. I’d been so busy wrapping myself up like Rapunzel in my tower—I’d forgotten how much I had to live for.

I hurt him so much.

He forced me to embrace pleasure as well as pain. He gave me a fuller life—a life I never deserved.

He loves me so much.

I turned to stare at my husband, suffering a flush of all-encompassing love. He smiled, the sun catching the tiny scars I’d marred him with.

 Sophie continued, “Mr. Mercer opened his home to those of us rescued in Rio. He paid for our doctors, provided psychiatric help, and gave us time to heal away from our families. Families who we didn’t want to let down by being broken.

“By the time I returned home, I was strong enough to be supportive of my boyfriend, Ryan. We forget, as the ones taken, that the ones left behind have it bad too—if not worse. They can’t do anything to save us. If I’d returned to him before I was strong enough, our relationship would’ve failed—I wouldn’t have been able to love him the way he needed.

“I won’t lie and say it was easy. But life does go on.” Her voice changed from storyteller to fierce advocator. “The key I found in surviving LAT… Life After Them…is…allowing yourself to acknowledge you will never be the same. Don’t try and return to who you once were. It won’t work. Give yourself the right to say you’re stronger, better, wiser, harder. Don’t let them win.”

She twisted, looking over her shoulder at Q. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you on behalf of so many other women. I’ll never forget you and will treasure my life because of what you did to give it back.”

A squall of tears charged up my back, blurring my vision.

Thank you, Q. For being you.

Q rolled his neck. His eyes blazed with feeling but his posture was graceful as he moved to my side. Slinking his arm around me, he subtlety took possession, separating me from Sophie. He nodded, granting power and gracefulness in one movement. “De rien.” You’re welcome.

An orb of light filled me, growing brighter, bolder with every second.

This was the man who I loved and would always be proud of. I wanted to rain kisses over his face for all that he’d done.

The crowd grew loud, one voice rising with praise.

Q eclipsed my entire heart—giving me comfort in his dark embrace.

He waved. “Thank you, everyone. And thank you Sophie for having the strength to tell us of your ordeal.” His forehead furrowed as an idea came to mind. “If anyone else would like to share their stories, and continue to gain support from one another, I will personally visit you over the next week as we tour with Feathers of Hope. As for now, you are my guests. Please speak to Mr. Roux for details on your accommodation.”

Q smiled. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me and my wife. We have an important interview to attend, and we’re already late.”

The crowd roared with applause, humming with happy energy as Q handed the microphone to the prime minster.

The prime minister took it. “Thank you for your time and generosity. The city of France will gladly contribute to your tour.”

Q shook his head. “No, need. The financing is taken care of.” Looking at Frederick, he said, “Find out how many rooms you need and book out the finest hotel. Franco will assist you if needed.”

Frederick nodded, slapping Q on the shoulder. “Consider it done, my friend. Now, you really better go.”

Untangling myself from Q, I gathered Sophie in another hug. “Visit me any time.”

She grinned. “Maybe we can have coffee one day—just us.”

I didn’t know if the topic would be our past or future but I would spend time with her regardless. I needed to stop feeling guilty. I needed to move forward. “That would be nice.”

We parted, drifting toward our respective places. Q gathered me in his strong arms, welcoming me back into the world I loved while Sophie disappeared into the crowd. The women offered hugs and high fives, swallowing her up in their collective embrace.

My body was drained. I had nothing left. I felt carved like a pumpkin with no seeds. But it was a good carving—a cleansing leaving me eerily weightless and completely vulnerable to the new existence before me.

I’ve forgiven myself. I would never curse my fate again.

Q had successfully given me every stage of healing.

I was whole.

Frederick grinned, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. “You guys really better go. They’re waiting. We’ll see you later in the week.”

With one last glace at the crowd, Q stole my hand and guided me into the sunshine.

We entered the hotel suite on the tenth floor, frazzled, humbled, and completely drained.

Q hadn’t let go of my hand as we traversed the crowd to the hotel across the street. Franco had kept us safe, his team of bodyguards ghosting around the swarm.

The moment we stepped into the room, a blanket of peace descended, hushing my racing heart, letting me relax for the first time since this morning.

My feet throbbed in my heels as we crossed the richly decorated suite. Q released me, dropping onto the English rose-print couch. “That was exhausting.”

I smiled, slouching next to him. “Yes, but so incredible—to see those women worship you, Q. To know she’s okay—it’s amazing.”

He scowled. “Not worshipping, esclave. Never that. They only have themselves to thank for taking their lives back. I was only the beginning, not the solution.”

I wanted to kiss him senseless for being so proud—unable to accept the good he did.

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. “And who knew you had fans already. I’m going to get jealous if people start hugging my wife.”

I laughed. “No fans—just a part of my past giving me freedom to let go.” My eyes faded, thinking of Sophie. I was so glad she survived. So happy she’d been invited by the prime minister, giving me absolution.

“Come here, Tess,” Q murmured.

My tummy flip-flopped at the quiet authority in his tone. I scooted closer, falling into his open arms. “What do you need, maitre?”

He smirked. “Oh, I can think of many things I need.” His lips landed on my ear, making me shiver. “I need you naked. I need you strung up, so I can show you how damn proud I am. And I need you screaming because my nerves are shot and being in public isn’t getting any easier with you so vulnerable by my side.”

I’m not vulnerable. I have you.

“If you promise to do that thing with your tongue again—I’ll scream for you.”

I gasped as his lips descended on mine, kissing me stupid. His tongue speared my mouth, dragging moans and pleas and promises from my soul.

The hotel door opened.

Q growled, his arms tensing around me. For a moment, I feared he wouldn't let me go—to hell with the reporter.

But then he released me, moving away. My lips twitched, noticing the way he crossed his legs, hiding his impressive, delicious erection.

The reporter, with her plaited black hair and vibrant hazel eyes, entered. We’d agreed to one interview. Only one. And then it was back to work.

A hotel staff member followed, wheeling in a trolley full of pastries, eclairs, and coffee.

The woman smiled, sitting down, brushing her navy skirt around her legs. She pulled free a pair of silver-rimmed glasses from her bag, placing them on her nose. Her smile was cupid-sweet and bright pink.

We waited in comfortable silence as the coffee was poured. Once the waiter had left, Q grabbed a steaming cup, holding it to his lips. His sharp attention fell on the reporter, sizing her up with one glance. “Bonjour.”