Page 75 of What Doesn't Kill Us

She opens her mouth to respond, but I interrupt. “Do you two ever fucking stop?”

They both look at me and say, “Nope.”

I shake my head, sighing as I respond, “Well, as amusing as this is, how about we shelve it until we know we’re not gonna die soon?”

Jayme smiles. “I’m mostly certain I’m not going to die today.”

Agatha grins as well, “I figure there’s a 75% chance I die. But I’ve gone into situations with far worse odds, so I’ll take it.”

I’m not surprised she’s so nonchalant about the idea of dying. She has so much faith in her sister that it’s borderline concerning, but from listening to her, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing a huge part of who Antoinette is. I only know two sides of her: the duplicitous viper who set out to destroy me, and the empty shell who danced around me almost innocently. I figure she’s a mix of both people, but right now, we need the viper.

Jayme looks at his watch, then heads toward the door, motioning for us to follow him. “I won’t have to restrain you until we get closer to our destination. I told that fucker I’d have to play nice with you to get you out of port inconspicuously, and he bought it.”

A group of Jayme’s men wait for us on the gangway. Jayme takes a bag from one of them and hands it to me. “The quickest way to get you through the customs checkpoint is legally. Passports are in here.”

I open the bag and peek inside. “Passports?”

“It’s amazing what you can get when you have a lot of money.”

I nod in agreement, then take mine out of the bag and put it in the inside pocket of my suit jacket. I hand Agatha hers and do a double-take as I watch her put it in the inside of her coat. “New wardrobe?”

Her lip curls, and she gives Jayme a dirty look. “Apparently, someone has a woman visitor often enough that she gets her own closet. Very unprofessional, if you ask me.”

Jayme gives her a bland look. “Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I have a female crew member who isn’t working right now. Those are her clothes.”

“Really? That’s your story? Where is she?”

The blond-haired guy opens his mouth to answer, but Jayme puts his hand up and says, “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but she’s on maternity leave.”

“Maternity leave? You’ve got to be kidding.”

He shakes his head, muttering to himself under his breath, and I smile. I bet Antoinette and I were like that not too long ago. Well, to be fair, we probably still act like that sometimes since she still hasn’t learned when to shut her fucking mouth.

The two of them continue their bickering as we walk off the ship. There are two customs agents waiting for us at the bottom of the gangway, and Jayme takes one of them to the side, having a brief conversation that has the man nodding. He comes over to me, quickly checking my passport and then Agatha’s, and then motions for us to move along.

Most of Jayme’s men stay behind to deal with whatever aboveboard goods on the ship need to be managed. There’s a car waiting for us, and Jayme motions for Agatha and me to get in the back.

I open the door to see a set of handcuffs and a black bag on the seat. I glance over and see another matching set on the other side for Agatha. We both pick them up and then sit there with them in our laps as if this is an everyday occurrence. Jayme gets in the front passenger seat and looks back at us. “I’ll let you know when it’s time for those.”

Agatha yawns, completely unbothered by the situation, as she asks, “Do I have time for a nap?”

Jayme cranes his head around to look at her. “What is with you and naps? Do you ever stop sleeping?”

“I learned at a young age to take whatever sleep I can get whenever I can get it—that and food. If there’s a snack available, eat it.”

“Fair,” he replies, then points to the middle of the seats as he continues. “There should be some snacks in there if you’re hungry, but you don’t have time for much of a nap.”

Her eyes light up, and she doesn’t hesitate to pop open the middle console and dig through the goods she finds there. I shake my head at her, asking, “How could you possibly eat right now?”

She pulls out a bag of chips, not hesitating to open it, quickly shoving some in her mouth. She barely swallows before she replies, “Not eating will change nothing. I guess I’d rather die with a full belly.”

“You really are crazy, aren’t you?”

The smile she gives me is pure Lilith, and I can’t help but smile in response as she says, “All depends on your perspective, Darius. I may not know a lot about love and affection, but I know more than my fair share about survival.”

“Survival comes down to naps and snacks? Is that what you’re saying?”

She nods, swallowing before answering. “Hey, the first things they deny you in a torture situation are sleep and food. So that should tell you something.”

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