Page 61 of What Doesn't Kill Us

I raise my brows at him and snort. “Simple, huh? How many miles are we talking?”

Matt grimaces, then swipes the screen on the tablet to a map filled with lines and numbers. “Between two and eight, I suspect.”

“Between two and eight? Fucking hell, Matt. Can’t you narrow it down a bit?” Tony asks angrily as he walks closer and yanks the tablet from Matt’s hands.

Matt snatches it back. “Well, yes, once we’re out there, I’ll have a much narrower margin of error, but this pre-planning is mostly working with hypotheticals, so give me a break.”

“Why can’t we fly directly out to them and drop me nearby?”

“Easily attainable helicopters don’t have the flight range to make that kind of journey in one go. It’s also best if we have a safe home base where we can refuel and regroup before sending you out there. We’ll have more equipment, too, given this friend of Tony’s has a thing for extreme sports of all kinds. He’ll have all the fun bells and whistles to aid you in your mission.”

“Seems simple enough, in theory.” I pause, looking between the two of them before continuing. “And once I get on board, then what? Do we know anything about this ship? Will I have to fight my way to him? Will I have a weapon? And once I’ve found him and told him what’s up, then what? Do I stick with him until they make port, and we duke it out on land, or do I drag him and Agatha overboard with me? How will you know when to come find me? How will you know where to find me? That ocean is big, right?”

I stop talking and take a breath. Matt is staring at me wide-eyed, but Tony seems amused. Finally, he asks, “You okay, Nettie?”

I nod, though I’m sure I must have a deranged expression. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replies, amusement lacing his words as he tilts his head at me. “We’ll work out all the finer details on our journey out there. Don’t worry. We’ll have a contingency plan for every plan to ensure you’re not left out in the open water as shark bait.”

The fucker smiles at me, so I return his smile, though I’m sure my smile is more akin to a deranged grin than any type of reassuring camaraderie. “So, now what?”

Matt cuts in, “Now, we go fuck around.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dare

Iwasabitrattled after sharing my side of Antoinette’s story with Agatha and Jayme. It was almost freeing to finally shed the last remnants of the lie, but it also brought to light the possibility that our story may already be over.

The likelihood that neither Lilith nor Antoinette made it out of that warehouse is high, and whether or not I like it, it may be quite a while before I know. I asked Jayme if there was a way for us to inquire about their fate, but he said there was no way for him to do so without risking Vincent or some other enemy finding out.

I was not happy about his decision, but I also know he’s not wrong.

After some rather intense interrogation from both of them, they finally allowed me to escape to my room. I dozed off for a while, only rousing myself once my hunger got strong enough to override my laziness.

I’m walking back to my room after gorging myself on anything and everything I could find in the galley when I hear a splat, like soggy clothing hitting the floor. I stop, craning my head and listening intently, but the noise seems to be gone, or I’m losing it, which is highly possible at this point.

Shaking my head at myself, I continue down the hallway toward my room. I’m just walking through the doorway when I’m suddenly pushed from behind. I catch myself before falling on my face, but when I attempt to face my attacker, they somehow slip by me and, this time, push me against the now-closed door. I feel something hard and narrow press against my ribs, and I freeze, waiting to see what my attacker will do next.

Instead of speaking, they push closer until their front is pressed tightly to my back. From their size, I’m assuming I’m dealing with a slight man or a woman, but it’s difficult to be sure when I can’t see, hear, or smell them.

The person leans in even closer until they’re pressed so tightly against me they’re pushing my front into the door forcefully. Then I feel a warm breath against my neck and whispered words that send all my senses into a tailspin. “Well, hey there, baby.” She, that’s definitely a female voice—an almost familiar one. “I thought you were bad boy enough to handle me.”

My eyes widen, my breath catching in my throat as I whisper, “Antoinette?”

She laughs against my ear, her breath tickling me as she replies, “In the flesh.”

I’m stunned into silence, the relief flooding my body almost painful as I try to wrap my head around her being here, on this ship, with me. I press both palms against the door, pushing myself away from it with enough force to push her backwards.

She attempts to step forward again, but I’m right there, in her space and in her face; my hands are on both sides of her head, squeezing slightly harder than necessary for fear she will vanish in front of my eyes. “Toni.” Her name falls from my lips with a pained gasp, our locked eyes speaking volumes since we seem to be out of words.

I unravel, then. All the fear and frustration boil over until I can’t contain it. I yank her closer to me, my lips crashing against hers painfully, but she doesn’t flinch or attempt to get away. Instead, she meets me with the same crazed intensity, practically crawling up my body as I pick her up and turn us around until I press her back against the door.

We’re eating at each other with such ferocity, one of us bleeding from the coppery taste on my tongue. I squeeze her ass with one hand while the other fists in her hair. She wraps her arms around my neck; her legs coming around my waist, and she squeezes me tighter, like she’s afraid I’m going to get away.

I pull back, dragging my lips and tongue along her jaw to her neck, where I bite down, sucking hard on her pulse point. She tastes salty. Like, extremely salty.

I pull back until my eyes meet hers, then I notice her hair is wet. I narrow my eyes at her, and she grins at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

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