Page 44 of What Doesn't Kill Us

She nods, but when I move to grab the chair from the other side of the room, her hand on my arm stops me. I look at her questioningly, and she says, “Sit here with me, please. I have so much to say.”

I frown but move around to the other side of the bed, piling the pillows up so I can sit beside her more easily. I climb up beside her, and she tries to turn toward me but winces, so I lean over, moving the pillows around, helping her get situated so she’s reclining but able to look at me without straining herself.

She gives me a sad look, her eyes haunted. “What is it, Toni?”

“Is Tony here?”

I shake my head. “No, he stepped out for a few minutes. Do you want him to come back? Now?”

She nods, so I pull my phone out of my pocket and send him a message, telling him to come back now because Antoinette is asking for him.

We sit silently for a few minutes, and then Tony comes barreling into the room like the human hurricane he is. He strides to the side of the bed and leans over her, looking her over thoroughly.

Finally, he pulls back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at her sternly. He goes to open his mouth, but she raises her hand and stops him as she says, “Not now, Tony. You can berate me later all you want, but first, we have other things to talk about.”

Tony scowls at her. “What could possibly be more important than what just happened?”

“I remember.”

“You remember what, exactly?”

“Everything. My entire existence.”

His eyes widen, and I feel my eyes mirroring his as I say, “Fuck.”

I wish she had told me this before I had Tony come back. There are a few things Tony doesn’t know, and it’s going to piss him off even more. I know little more than Tony does, but there’s one thing that fell into my lap completely by coincidence, and Darius insisted we not tell him.

I totally get why, but I have a feeling it’s all about to come out now.

Tony walks to the other side of the room and grabs a chair, dragging it over by the bed where he sits, eyeing her expectantly. “So, how far back do you think you need to go to begin with?”

“I don’t think it matters how far back I go. I need you to promise me you won’t say anything until I’m done. And I also need to speak to Mickey. Once I’ve said everything I need to say, and Mickey has filled in the gaps, only then can you speak.”

His eyes narrow, but he nods, then asks, “Do you need Mickey here now?”

“That would be ideal, but video will do, given the circumstances.”

“He’s actually here,” Tony replies. “He got in an hour ago and went to a hotel nearby.”

“Please call him and have him head this way,” Antoinette says, relief clear in her voice and on her features. “I’ll start the story while we wait for him.”

Tony pulls his phone out, putting in a quick call. Mickey must’ve been by his phone because he barely says two words before he hangs up and says, “He’s on his way.”

The look of sadness on Antoinette’s face deepens, and she takes a deep breath through her nose. I can see she’s pushing the distress back, so I reach my hand out, squeezing her arm gently. She turns her head, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s okay, Toni. Say what you gotta say.”

“First, the man who has Dare and Agatha is my younger brother, Vincent. I knew nothing about him. No one knew anything about him that I’m aware of. That part of the story will have to come from Mickey.”

Tony looks at me, and I raise a shoulder and shake my head. This is unrelated to any of the things I know that might piss him off. Tony nods at her to continue.

“I didn’t know he was my brother. I didn’t really know them at all. Most of the orders I’ve received throughout my existence came from unknown entities. I lived with my family, who, deep down, I knew wasn’t my family, but we never questioned it. If you were born into the family, your purpose was to do as you’re told. Loyalty. Obligation. The job. Family. It’s all a fucking joke. You become so accustomed to being abused in one manner or another that it’s all the same. Nothing fazes you. You have no memories. You have no feelings. You have no soul. Any of us could slit the throat of one of our so-called brothers or sisters and not even blink. We learned not to care.”

Tony leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, giving her an impatient look. “What the fuck are you talking about, Nettie? You were brought up in the suburbs of California, the upper-middle-class spoiled princess of a Dr. Philip and Diane Moreau.”

She laughs humorlessly, shaking her head as she replies, “Yes, that’s the story. And they did a good fucking job with it, considering you, of all people, still believe it. I guess that answers my question about whether Darius ever told you the complete truth. I know Matt knows because he’s the one who told Darius of his suspicions that forced him to confront me. But then, shortly after that night, I was taken to that warehouse, and everything went to shit. So, I wasn’t sure what happened from there.”

Tony’s narrowed eyes focus on me as he grits out, “What the fuck is she talking about, Matt?”

“That’s for Antoinette to talk about. I did my part by telling Darius what I knew and letting him take it from there. He told me to take it to my grave, and I will.”

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