Page 6 of A Fine Line

I mean, it helps that I know who put me in this box. And while he may be considered a scary motherfucker to most people, he doesn’t scare me.

Not that he doesn’t have the capacity to make me fear him, but I’m at the point in my existence and our relationship where I understand that there are far worse things than death. I suppose, if he felt inclined, he could break me with pain. But there really isn’t anything left to break. The one thing he could’ve used to hold over my head is the one thing I can’t locate.

Hindsight being what it is, his stealing me from my fancy prison is likely doing me a favor. Now, if I can stay out of that prison while also getting out of this prison, I might be able to make some headway in locating that missing piece of me.

One thing is for sure: he can’t kill me. Today, anyway.

He may not know that I know this, and he may believe I’m lying in this box, wallowing in the idea of my imminent demise, but as I’ve already explained, death is easy.

And I know Darius Hughes. Regardless of how things ended up, he said that someday we’d sit down with a bottle of whiskey and come to terms, and he’s a man of his word.

Antoinette may want to slap the shit out of me, and rightly so. But I don’t believe she would go against Darius. She may not let me off the hook easily, but at some point, she would.

Then there’s Tony Andersen; the man spent time locating me and ended up putting me in this box, knowing he can’t kill me. Lilith Ferro was a huge force within the criminal world, and finding out that she was also Antoinette’s mother right before her death threw everyone into a tailspin.

After months spent chasing the ghosts of those who were out to get Antoinette, they finally manage to put it all to rest, only to be left with countless unanswered questions.

And yes, I am partially to blame.

They may be under the false impression that I don’t care. For all I know, they assume that their loss didn’t affect me. But it did. Knowing that I’m partially responsible for the loss of someone they cared about rips me apart.

I didn’t know Lilith that well, but from what I did know of her, I understand how the loss of her reverberates throughout their existence. Even if there was no love lost between some of them, I still feel that vacancy in the landscape of their future.

When Tony got to the airstrip, he allowed me to get out of the trunk of his car, and even removed the gag and cuffs and allowed me to put on dry clothes. But that was the end of his charitable nature, and he gave me the option of either sedating myself or enduring a long flight in a closet. My first inclination was to argue, a new tendency I’m not quite accustomed to, and after a few moments of inner dilemma and his promise that I would remain untouched, I decided I’d take the nap.

And now, I’m not sure how long I’ve been in this box, but from the pressure on my bladder, I think it’s been a while. Pretty soon, all it’ll take is one good sneeze, and I’ll have an embarrassing moment on my hands. That will really tick me off because this dumb fuck will assume I pissed myself scared.

I don’t fucking think so.

Heavy footfalls sound nearby. They stop when they’re right next to me, and then there’s silence for a moment. And then there’s metal scraping on metal and the distinct sound of metal snapping against wood. Next, I’m moving on the smooth roll of wheels, and then I’m blinded by a light.

I squeeze my eyes shut and then blink rapidly until a shadow falls over my face.

And there he is, once again. Tony fucking Andersen.

I glare up at him, and he gives me a self-satisfied, somewhat creepy smile that has me suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.

He kneels down, his hand coming out to rub his knuckles down my cheek. I flinch away, and he leans in close and says, “Are you ready to play?”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty well-known fact that Tony Andersen is abadguy. He may not be the mythical legend of the beast, but he’s a mythical legend in his own right. And under different circumstances, I might be inclined to be worried.

My laugh is cut off by his hand gripping my face, his thumb digging into one cheek, and his fingers digging into the other as he squeezes. I try to wipe the smile off my face, although it’s difficult, but I finally manage to squeak out, “I really gotta pee.”

He shakes his head at me and barks out a laugh as he yanks his hand back in annoyance. Then he sighs. “Why can’t you fucking women at least pretend not to enjoy being in danger?”

I shake my head and half-shrug as I reply meekly, “Oh, no. Please don’t hurt me.” When all he does is give me a bland look, I continue in a more serious tone. “I am a little scared that I might piss my pants. Does that work?”

Tony purses his lips at me as he stands, crossing his arms over his chest as he replies, “If you piss in that box, I’m gonna be in trouble. Darius will never forgive me.”

He drops his arms and then turns away from me as he continues, “Come on. The bathroom is downstairs.”

I squirm around, making sure all my limbs are working before I sit up and slide over to the edge. I ignore the pins and needles in my feet, flopping myself over the side and slowly standing.

It takes me a few moments to scramble down from the loft on my tingly feet, and by the time I stand in the middle of the living area, I ask emphatically, “Bathroom?”

He points behind me, and as I scurry across the room, I’m already unfastening my pants and don’t even take time to close the bathroom door before I sit my ass down on the toilet seat. “Oh, thank god. Holy shit, that was close.”

A shadow appears in the doorway, and I glance up to see Tony standing there, frowning at me. He shakes his head as he grabs the doorknob and yanks the door closed with a bit more force than necessary.

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