Page 1 of A Fine Line

Prologue

Tony

Lookingbackonmylife, it’s difficult to determine where the darkness began. It seems unlikely I was born with it, and I can’t even say it’s a result of my fucked-up upbringing because, all in all, my upbringing wasn’t all that messed up. If I allow myself time to sit back and reminisce on the highlights that have been imprinted upon my existence, the majority of them are drenched in darkness. Because, in some ways, darkness feels like home.

By the time I met Darius Hughes and Mathias Shields, I was already firmly cloaked in shadows. It was with them I learned how to hone this armor into a persona that suited me.

Don’t get me wrong, Dare and Matt both harbor their own shades of depravity, though Dare’s has currently been tempered by the love of a woman.

Fucking choke me.

As if any amount of love could temper that pitch-blackness entirely.

I don’t recall many moments after adolescence when the light would call to me. Once puberty set in and whatever good intentions I could have had were overwhelmed by testosterone and impulsivity, it was pretty much a downwards slide that I rarely cared to lift my head from.

This doesn’t mean I don’t know right from wrong. This doesn’t mean I’m not capable of being a kind and generous person. This doesn’t mean I’m never conscientious, loving, or forgiving.

Okay, maybeforgivingis too far.

What I’m trying to say here is I’m not a completely unrepentant, bloodthirsty fucklicker. I care about my people. And yes, that’s a very short list, but once you’re on it, you’re on it until I die.

If I had not met Dare and Matt, my life would’ve gone in a completely different direction. They caught me when I was teetering at the precipice of a downwards spiral. They grabbed onto my hands tightly, and even as I fought, kicked, and screamed, they did not relent. They still hold on, keeping me suspended in the air, my toes almost touching that pool of pitch-black. And even as I feel it crawling up my legs, attempting to pull me in, they won’t let go.

And this is why we have our people.

When things feel out of control, when our minds are steeped in darkness, and our hearts stutter with coldness, our people are there to keep us grounded. Our people are there to bring light to any situation, with their facts and cold, hard truths, and to throw hands if necessary to keep us in the gray.

But all this makes losing one of them all the more difficult, even the ones who came later in life. The ones you’ve had less time with. The ones you may not even be sure would be able to go the extra mile to become your people because you didn’t have time to find out for sure.

And maybe that’s what makes it so infuriating—the unknowns. The what-ifs. The should’ve-could’ve-would’ve mentality of never knowing what might have been.

It’s these atrocities that sometimes trigger that headfirst plummet into the pitch-black. Losing your what-if as you’re choking on that should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

And I think that’s what led me to the first time I’ve ever lied to my people. The first time they ever asked me a direct question, and the truth didn’t automatically spill out. That should’ve been my first red flag; that should’ve been my first indication that maybe I should take a step back. That maybe I should rewind and confess that I’m not cool. I’m not alright. I’m fucking pissed, and someone better tie me down.

On the other side of that, though, they most likely didn’t believe me. Darius probably ended that call and immediately muttered to himself some variation of “that lying motherfucker” which means the clock is winding down on my current mission.

And I won’t kill her. That wasn’t a lie.

But that doesn’t mean she won’t wish she was dead.

Chapter One

Tony

Ishouldn’tbehere.

Dare told me again and again to leave it alone, to let it go, to leave it be.

But here I am, doing none of that.

Dare and Matt only understand my anger to a point, and I don’t understand their lack of response toward the situation.

For her to have so deeply entrenched herself in the lives of other people that they began to care about her, knowing that she meant to do them harm is unforgivable. The fact that they don’t feel the same way boggles my mind, and though I did promise not to kill her, I have a feeling it’s going to be a difficult promise to keep.

I’m a cut-and-dry kinda guy. I don’t deal well with gray areas, and the fact that she thinks she can live all high and mighty in her gray area pisses me off.

I managed to ignore that festering rage in my gut for a short period of time before it finally boiled over and I felt inclined to do something about it. It really should’ve taken me longer to find her than it did, but once I had my sights on her, time was ticking.

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