Page 45 of What Doesn't Kill Us

Tony’s furious gaze focuses back in on Antoinette. “Tell me.”

She glares right back at him. “Don’t forget your promise, asshole.”

He grinds his teeth together but then sits up, resting his palms on his thighs like that makes him appear any more relaxed than he is. He inclines his head at her to proceed.

She shifts on the bed, wincing as her hand presses on the bandage over the bullet wound on her side. “My last job was Darius. I got orders I was to work at this company to get close to Darius Hughes, a.k.a. the Beast. It’s kind of funny, though, because I knew little about the inner workings of the underground or the down-and-dirty, bloodthirsty criminal’s comings and goings.”

“So, when I first went in and got a look at Darius, I thought I had the wrong person. It wasn’t until the first time I badgered him, and he put his hands on me, that I realized what a fucking volcano he was. The way he wears those starched white shirts and carefully pressed trousers, his spit-shined shoes, and those stupid fucking paisley socks. He was so soft-spoken and well-mannered that it was hard to picture him truly unhinged. But then, one time, I’d gone into his office to give him a daily dose of annoying, and he came out from behind that desk and picked me up by my throat, and holy fucking shit. For a few moments there, I really thought that I’d gone too far, and he was going to snap my neck.”

I laugh softly, interrupting her. “I remember that. You made him fucking batshit most of the time. He worked hard to get himself out of the criminal world, to remove himself and become Darius Hughes, and then there you were, poking his buttons all the time in the office. He was not accustomed to anyone teasing him or going out of their way to be annoying. Throughout his adult life, people mostly stayed out of his way. They feared him. People still do fear him because he has a habit of coming out on top, regardless of how bad the odds are against him. But other than you being fucking irritating, he kept most of your interactions close to his chest. That’s how I knew he really had a thing for you.”

She gives me a small smile. “How did you find out I was the enemy?”

“It wasn’t so much I found out as I fell into it. I saw you out one day, and I was going to speak to you, but no sooner had I turned toward you had somebody else joined you. Some man I didn’t know at the time, but you had a heated discussion, and he grabbed you. I was going to intervene, but then I heard him say something about the job.”

She nods. “He told me to keep my eye on the job. He could sense my focus was off, and he was reminding me what would happen if I lost sight. Because if you fail a job, they’re not going to kill you; that would be a waste in their eyes. There’s always some kind of monetary gain to be had. That’s why, once they realized I was likely compromised, they took me. They were going to sell me. They’d get a good price for someone of my standing in the skin trade—“

Tony interrupts, his voice full of rage and the look on his face incredulous. “So, you’re telling me you’re the enemy? And all of this happened because of you?”

“Well, I guess, in a nutshell. I mean, it’s a little more complicated than that. But yes.”

“Complicated? How? You’re gonna have to give me a little more information than that if you expect to live through this conversation.”

Antoinette doesn’t even flinch. She gives him a bland look and rolls her eyes. “Shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna kill me. I understand that you’re angry, but it wasn’t my decision to keep you in the dark about this. And it’s not like I could’ve fucking told you since I didn’t remember any of it.”

He goes to say something else, but instead, he snaps his mouth shut, clenching his jaw. I understand why he’s mad. But he also should understand that none of us can tell Darius what to do. He told me not to say anything, which means I would’ve said nothing. That’s how we work.

Antoinette grabs the glass of water off the bedside table, takes a drink, and places it back on the table before continuing, “I remember when Darius confronted me. I’ll never forget that look of betrayal in his eyes. He asked me why. Why would I do that to him? There was no good answer, but then he pushed me and pushed me until the why didn’t matter anymore because it no longer existed to me. The only thing that existed for me at that moment was him. And any world where he didn’t exist was no good to me. Even now, I don’t want to live in a world where he doesn’t exist. You don’t have to believe me, and I wouldn’t blame you for not believing me, but try to remember that you don’t even know me. All you know is Nettie.”

Tony’s jaw clenches even harder. He blinks rapidly, looking away from her. I can tell he’s conflicted. Tony doesn’t like very many people. He loves even less. I know he loves Nettie, but that doesn’t mean he won’t kill Antoinette.

Antoinette gets a strange look on her face, so I ask, “What is it?”

She blinks but doesn’t turn her gaze on me as she replies. “Dare reenacted some of our previous interactions. He must’ve hoped they would trigger my memories without causing harm.” She pauses, her eyes meeting mine questioningly. “Did you know about that?”

I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, but then Tony’s angry voice cuts through, forcing them open again. “Yeah, Matt. Did you know anything about that?”

I glare at Tony, then say, “Yes and no. It isn’t a simple answer.”

“Well, maybe you can summarize it a bit without getting into trouble with your boyfriend.” Tony sneers, his face twisted with rage and what may be hurt.

I sigh and rub my hands over my face. There isn’t an easy or fast way for me to explain what went on with Darius in the aftermath of Antoinette’s attack. I look between the two of them, both staring at me expectantly, then sigh deeply, my eyes meeting Tony’s as I respond, “Listen, Tony. Darius was a complete train wreck for weeks after Antoinette lost her memory. I’m sure he would’ve explained the full story to you if things had been different, but there didn’t seem to be a time, given she was a mere shadow of her former self. Maybe you don’t remem—“

Tony cuts me off, his words fueled by anger as he snaps, “Of course, I remember one of my closest friends morphing into a fucking animalistic cyborg. I’m not fucking blind, Matt. I was going to intercede, but then he seemed to get control of himself, and I didn’t think there was anything to be concerned about. Was I wrong in this judgment?”

I sigh again, shrugging as I shake my head. “You weren’t wrong, but that change wasn’t because Darius suddenly learned how to cap his rage. He tried repeatedly and couldn’t get himself under control, so we had to go to extreme measures.”

Tony raises his eyebrows at me, but it’s Antoinette who asks, “Extreme measures?”

“Hypnosis.”

“Fuck,” they both say at the same time.

I nod, sighing even deeper as I think back on when Darius finally agreed to have someone hypnotize him into forgetting what pained him. “It took a few tries before it worked, and it wasn’t always entirely effective, but it took that sharp edge off his emotions and allowed him to carry on with some semblance of calm.”

Tony sits back in his chair with a troubled expression but doesn’t say anything. Antoinette is staring at me in shock, so I give her a small smile, which she returns. Then her hand grasps the top of mine and squeezes once before releasing me, clearing her throat as she composes herself.

There’s a knock on the door, and I look up to see Mickey standing in the doorway. He looks like shit. He nods in greeting, then walks into the room.

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