Page 77 of What Doesn't Kill Us

She snorts, giving him a disgusted look. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“You better shut your fucking mouth, or that can be arranged.”

She shakes her head at him, attempting to shrug her shoulders with her cuffed hands secured to the chair. “I don’t know why you bother with all this. You know Toni is going to skin you alive when she gets here.”

I expect him to go on some tangent about her being long dead in that warehouse in Europe, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets this joyful look on his face and steps closer to us, bending down as he says, “Oh, you didn’t hear? It seems your girl had an unfortunate run-in with some sharks.”

Agatha’s gasp is quiet, but I still hear it, and my blood runs cold. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Somehow, I keep my voice level, even though there’s a volcanic tornado brewing in my guts.

He smiles at me, and the beast inside me rumbles. “You all thought you were being so clever. You thought you could outsmart me by staging a rendezvous in the Atlantic. But I don’t fucking think so. You wanted to play a game with me, and you lost.”

I glance over at Agatha, and she’s shaking her head, with her jaw clenched and her eyes glaring daggers at him. Then, she says, “I don’t fucking believe you.”

I remain quiet, wanting him to continue as I attempt to escape my restraints. But I can’t stop the growl that falls from my lips, and he steps even closer to me, leaning forward until he’s looking me in the face as he brags, “I’m just sad that they didn’t have time to really make her pay before feeding her to the sharks.”

I snarl, snapping my head forward and sinking my teeth into his cheek as he’s too slow to pull back. I shake my head, yanking against my bound hands as his men leap forward and pull him free. I spit out meat and blood and then bare my bloody teeth at him, snarling, “There’s no fucking way.”

He curses, pressing a handkerchief to his bleeding cheek and glaring at me. His smile broadens as he looks behind him, taking something from one of his men before turning back to me with a small ball bag in his hand. He tosses it at my feet, and I blink as I recognize it. The black kit I stuffed into Toni’s wetsuit myself not too long ago. It’s wet, and I see a trickle of light pink water on the dirty gray floor. I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them, hoping Toni’s kit won’t still be there, staring me in the face, but it’s still there.

I straighten in my chair, still shaking my head, looking him in the eye. “You’re a fucking dead man. You and anyone you’ve ever known are fucking dead. I will kill every motherfucking one of you if it’s the last thing I do.”

Vincent throws his head back and laughs. All of his cronies behind him join him, and soon, all I hear are the echoes of their laughter around me. The beast inside me thrashes again, my gaze drawn to that black bag mocking me from the floor.

There’s no fucking way.

I don’t want to believe it, but it’s difficult to refute the evidence that he’s showing me. I feel like I’m being ripped apart from the inside, the beast inside me, bellowing to be set free. If she’s gone, then we may as well all be dead.

Vincent’s voice draws my attention back to him, and I see he’s now standing beside me, pointing a gun at my head. I can’t help but roll my eyes. The idea that I’m going to meet my end in this stupid fucking warehouse at the hand of this stupid fucking asshole really twists my pants. “Well, if you’re going to do it, just do it. Just for the love of fuck, quit fucking talking.”

He smirks at me, that superior look back on his face, and I want to smash all his teeth in even more than before. Of course, he’s not the type of guy who knows when it’s time to stop talking, so he continues running on. Gloating. Bragging.

Then I hear Agatha behind me, “Oh, for fuck sake, man. Just do it already. I think I’d rather be dead than have to listen to you run your mouth for another fucking second.”

He turns his focus on her, raising his brows as he says, “Oh, dear sister. You won’t have the luxury of a bullet today. You get to go out into the trade. I already have somebody lined up for your sweet ass.”

She doesn’t even blink; she grinds out between her clenched teeth, “Whatever. Just don’t talk about my ass, you disgusting piece of shit.”

He glares at her. “Let’s see if you’re still running your mouth after you’ve had a few dozen men sticking their dicks in it.”

She rolls her eyes, and I try not to laugh, but a little sneaks out as I feel the hysteria sinking in. I look up at Vincent, meeting his gaze, and I figure I have nothing left to lose, so I taunt him. “Let’s stop pretending you have the balls to actually shoot me. You know I still have people out there, people who will hunt you to the end of your days. If what you’re saying about Antoinette is true, they’re already looking for you. So even if I go straight to hell right this very moment, I can sit back and wait for you because you’re going to be next. So, you go right ahead and stick that gun to my head and pull the trigger. The quicker you get this over with, the quicker you get to meet me in hell.”

A glimmer of uncertainty passes over his features, but then that condescending look returns. His lip curls, and he sneers, “Oh, your fucking people are dead, too. I blew their little operation out of the fucking Atlantic. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get it on video, so I can replay it for you over and over again. Then you’d really beg me to kill you.”

I snarl then, spittle flying from my mouth. “You spineless fuck. All you know how to do is sneak up on people when their backs are turned. If you ever had to come face-to-face with an actual threat, you’d piss your pants like the fucking coward you are. I can’t wait for someone to rip out your spine and then ass-fuck you with it.”

He laughs again, and I hear his group of cronies twittering behind him. As much as I want to get loose, as much as I want to make good on my threats to kill him, I also feel that edge in me seeking relief from the darkness that exploded at the thought of everyone I’ve ever cared about being gone. I hear Agatha beside me; I hear her words telling me not to believe him, not to give up. It’s not over.

And I want to believe her. I want to believe her, but it’s this unhinged, maniacal part of me that responds. “Either untie me and fight me, or shoot me. Just get it over with. I don’t know what you’re waiting for. Just fucking shoot me already. Just get it over with and fucking shoot me. Fucking shoot me.Shoot me!”

He has a gun pointed right in my face, and every time I tell him to shoot me, his grip on the gun tightens. I’m staring down the barrel, looking him right in the eyes, daring him to do it.

Finally, he grits out, “I guess I’ll see you in hell.”

I clench my teeth, but I don’t look away. I don’t close my eyes.

I’ll meet my maker, staring him in the face.

He waits a few seconds, his eyes boring into mine.

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