Page 47 of What Doesn't Kill Us

Mickey shrugs. “I don’t know. All I know is that Vincent won’t just kill him. He’ll try to use him for some kind of gain first. He likely thinks Antoinette is dead, so that’ll help us, especially since she is a little under the weather.”

Antoinette speaks up, “Well, I guess if he would use Dare as a pawn, then we should figure out who he would use him against and start there?”

Tony and I look at each other, then nod in silent agreement. It’s not a bad idea. And it’s not like we have much else to go on right now.

Antoinette leans forward, wincing slightly and gingerly reaching her hand out to place it on Mickey’s arm. She looks him in the eyes and asks, “We’re not related, right? Me and Dare?”

This time, Mickey does laugh. “No! Toni, Lilith never would’ve let that happen.”

Antoinette leans back against the pillows, a look of relief on her face. “Thank fuck for something.”

Chapter Seventeen

Dare

We’regoingtodiehere.

It’s amazing how strangely time moves when you’re sitting around in complete darkness.

Agatha stayed chained in the corner for almost a full day before she finally relented and allowed me to pull the bobby pin from her hair to pick the lock on the cuffs around her wrists and neck. She puts them back on intermittently, but the time in between is growing longer and longer as time goes by. She figures if she’s going to die here; she won’t die chained.

The only good thing about not having any food is that it makes the whole bathroom issue a little less frequent. I found a sink and a toilet, much like you’d find in a prison cell, off in the far corner, so though it has been a little awkward, we’ve made do.

Agatha has already said that we will never speak of it.

We’ve played every type of word game you can dream up. The darkness is almost maddening, though, I suspect we’re both well-versed in living in darkness.

We’re both lying on the narrow bed, a shitty excuse for one as it may be. Then Agatha says, “I wonder what time it is.”

It takes a few moments for me to remember the watch on my wrist. I press the button on the side that tells me it’s 1:38 AM. Which means we’re working on our third day here.

She sits up so suddenly it jars me as she grabs my arm and exclaims, “You’ve had a watch this whole time?!”

“Yes, sorry,” I say sheepishly. “It’s been so long since I’ve worn it, I completely forgot I was wearing it.”

“Is that the watch from Toni?”

“Yes. She gave it back to me right before they got me in the parking garage.”

And then she laughs. She laughs and laughs and laughs until I’m sure she must have tears streaming down her face. And I’m confused because I have no fucking idea what could be so funny about a watch. “What the fuck is so funny?”

She laughs for a few more moments, pausing a few times as she tries to get control of herself. And then she finally says, “You don’t know?”

Now, I feel stupid, considering whatever is funny must be something I should know. Which means the joke is on me. “Apparently not, so by all means, let me in on the joke.”

“That’s the watch Antoinette gave you, correct?”

Fuck. “Yes.”

She laughs again, so I lay back and let her get it out of her system. Eventually, she settles back beside me, letting out an occasional giggle. She grabs my wrist, turns the watch face toward herself, and pushes the button, and the soft glow of light shines on her face. It’s almost startling, considering all I’ve seen is darkness for so long, but she’s grinning at me in a creepy Agatha way.

Her smile gets even wider, and the light goes out, so she presses the button again and looks right at me. “Antoinette put a tracker in that watch. That’s how they found us the last time.”

“No fucking way. She gave me that watch ages ago.”

Agatha laughs again. “She sure did. Back when I was trying to get my hands on you, we pulled in a couple of people who worked with her, and one let us in on that tidbit. That’s why, when you got on that plane so many months ago, we took your watch away from you, but we left it for her with a note telling her to drop it or else.”

I shake my head, frowning. “A tracker? That fucking bitch was tracking me?”

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