Page 24 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“Good, I guess?”

“You guess?” I laugh.

With her hands on her hips and her skin drenched in sweat, she grimaces. “Yes?”

Another chuckle escapes me before I let her off the hook. “I guess that’s progress. Now we’re gonna talk about when he would grab your hair to keep you in place.”

The comment makes her freeze as she gets lost in her nightmares. All it took was mentioning him once, and she’s spiraling.

Closing the distance between us, I cup her cheek. “Stay with me, Blue.”

She sniffs then nods, coming back to the present.

“When would he pull your hair?” My voice is quiet.

She gulps, but her gaze stays hazy as she battles the memories waging war inside of her.

“Answer me, Blue.”

“When he’d want to keep me in place so that I couldn’t get away from him. Sometimes it was on the floor. Sometimes on the bed.”

Nostrils flaring, I clear my throat and shove aside my rage that doesn’t belong in this room. It belongs in Sei’s prison cell.

“Okay,” I breathe. “I want to practice that position, but I need you to trust me.”

“D….” Her voice trails off as her fear threatens to choke her.

“If you don’t know how to get out of that position, then it’ll always be your worst nightmare. Let me teach you how. Do you trust me?”

Her lips pull into a thin line as she stares back at me with an intensity that almost breaks me. But I’m not going to push her on this. Not if she isn’t ready. Nostrils flaring, she rolls onto her back, then looks up at me, waiting for me to get into position without saying a word. It’s another test. Another chance for me to be the guy she fears I am. But she’s doing it anyway, despite the possibility that I could be like Sei.

Squatting low, I ask her, “What’s your safe word, Q?”

“Six.”

“Say it again.”

“Six,” she says with a bit more confidence.

“Good girl.” Straddling her hips, I tangle my fingers in her short blue hair but keep my grip loose in hopes that she can focus and won’t be triggered. “You okay?”

“Six,” she breathes, squeezing her eyes shut before I can even voice my question.

I climb off her as fast as I can, then raise my hands in the air. “I’m off. I’m off.”

That same ragged breathing echoes throughout the room as she rolls onto her side and tucks her knees into her chest. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You did good. You faced your fears—”

“I didn’t face it—”

“You tried, Q. That’s all I care about. Let’s focus on some other ways you can defend yourself, okay?”

Offering my hand, I wait for her to take it, and by some miracle, she does.

I think I passed.

Again and again, we practice different techniques until she’s confident she can get out of his grasp or break his arm with a few moves that transform from complicated to second nature. But never when she’s on her back. And I don’t blame her. One day though, she’ll have to face her fears again. But not today.

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