Page 24 of Hell Hath No Fury

Antoinette grins, those bright blue eyes sparkling. “I know. And it could certainly be worse.”

Antoinette turns her attention back to me, and then her bright smile quickly fades. Her gaze moves over my shoulder as she seems to deflate before my eyes.

Her throat moves as she swallows, a quick inhalation seeming to get stuck, and then she chokes out, “You.”

I don’t have to turn to know Darius is standing behind me. She trembles, her eyes a quick kaleidoscope of emotions as tension coils, and she becomes stiff and unyielding.

Then her face twists, her eyes hardening, and she grabs the chef’s knife from the counter as she spits out, “You motherfucker.”

Then, all that coiling tension releases at once, and she shoves me to the side, leaving me staggering against the counter as she launches herself across the room.

12

A Violent Purge

Antonio

Antoinetteisacrosstheroom and on Darius before I even have a chance to move. He doesn’t attempt to fight her off; he takes the full brunt of the impact right in the chest, falling back against the wall and immediately going to the ground with her on top of him.

I rush forward, but Tony is right there, his hand on my chest as he shakes his head. “Wait.”

I step back, keeping my eyes trained on the knife that she now has pressed against Darius’s throat. She’s breathing heavily, her teeth bared in a grimace as she leans on her free hand that’s placed beside his head.

She glares down at him, and he’s motionless, barely even breathing as the fine edges of dark and light collide. A sigh of frustration falls from her lips, and once again, her features twist, morphing from rage to sadness to anguish and back again. And then, she whispers, “Did you leave me there?”

He flinches as if slapped, unadulterated rage blossoming on his face as he spits out, “What? No, how, why?” he stammers, his hands fisting on the floor at his sides as he forces himself to remain still.

The hand holding the knife at his throat relaxes, her expression softening at his words. She searches his gaze briefly, and then her expression shifts again to hurt and anger. The knife presses in, blood slowly welling up around the edges.

But Darius doesn’t move. He stares up at her, an injured fragment of the notorious Beast we know.

A fluttering behind her catches my attention, and Lilith is there, indicating that I should move closer. She looks pointedly in Antoinette’s direction, motioning with her hand, so I follow her cues, moving closer slowly, slowly, slowly.

A low whining noise draws my focus to Antoinette’s face, and her features are twisted as if agony has wrapped its ugly arms around her and won’t let go.

“He told me you knew,” she says in a broken whisper. The hand on the knife grips tighter, the blood slowly seeping around the edges now slowly dripping along his neck. “He told me you knew where I was this entire time and just left me there.”

“Never,” Darius spits out. Fury emanates from his features, his earlier relaxed pose now strung tight. “I would have gotten you out of there the very first moment I knew where you were.”

“But you didn’t,” she seethes. “You knew.” She pauses, looking around at all of us before focusing back on his face and snarling, “You all fucking knew. And still, you left me there.”

I go to respond, but Lilith touches my arm and shakes her head, so I don’t. But then Darius answers, “You didn’t remember. You know the drill, baby girl.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she shrieks. “You’re not allowed to call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” he retorts gruffly, his aggravation with the situation obviously overriding any self-preservation he may have as this wild woman holds a sharp knife to his throat.

Her bellow of rage reverberates through the room, and for a moment, I brace myself, watching the blade still pressed against Darius’s neck. Then the knife goes skittering across the floor, and her hands ball into fists. She rears back, both fisted hands coming down and walloping him in the face.

Again, I take a step forward, but Lilith is right there, stopping me. I watch on as Darius brings his hand up, gripping onto her wrists, finally making an attempt to defend himself as she fights to pummel him.

She shrieks and yells, the pain in her voice ricocheting around the room. “You left me there. You left me there thinking I was married to a man who worshipped me. Do you hear me? Do I have to explain whatworshipmeans?”

Darius roars beneath her, his body twisting as he gets his feet under him, and he thrashes around until he manages to flip them over. She continues to fight, but her words are the most lethal weapon she possesses as he presses his large form into her, her hands now shackled above her head. “You left me to be used in a manner even worse than brute force. You left me to wedded bliss. Wedded fucking bliss, Darius. Do you know that?”

“Of course, I fucking know,” he spits out violently. His hands holding her wrists in place squeeze until his knuckles turn white, and he leans over her until his nose is practically touching hers. “The whole time you were gone, I knew it meant one of two things. Either an absence that is forever or an absence that may only bring part of you back to me.”

Her head lifts off the floor, and she screams into his face, “And what of the nothing? Because I am nothing.”

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