Page 27 of Hell Hath No Fury

I shake it out, and sure enough, Darius’s white undershirt is revealed, still warm from his body. I quickly fold it in half and then roll it up, smiling at her gratefully as she says, “I’ll be back in a little bit. Is she okay?”

I nod. “She will be.”

Agatha doesn’t say anything else, just shutting the door and locking it behind her.

Walking back to the bathroom, I find the water is no longer running. Antoinette has managed to exit the shower, and she’s now standing in the middle of the room, a towel wrapped around her hair as she works to dry her body with a second towel.

I pause in the doorway just as she catches sight of herself in the mirror, and she stands there, staring at her own reflection with the towel held over her front. So many emotions cross her features at once as she searches her own gaze, and I quickly close the distance between us, standing in front of her so she can no longer look at her reflection.

Shaking out Darius’s shirt between us, her eyes move to the white fabric and then at my face, her eyes haunted and questioning. I say nothing, gripping the shirt in my hands and lifting it up over her head. Stretching the neck hole to fit over the towel on her hair, I ease it down, turning the soft white fabric until it’s down over her shoulders. She drops the towel as she inserts her arms into the shirt and then she stands there, frowning down at what now looks like a poorly fitting white cotton dress.

She glances at me questioningly, and I smile in response. “Nothing more familiar than a worn shirt.”

Her breath catches, and her eyes well up, and then she grips the front of that white t-shirt in both hands, pulling it up untilshe’s hiding her face in the fabric. I remain quiet, wrapping her up in my arms as silent tears wrack her frame.

And when she sinks to the floor, I go with her.

She doesn’t make a sound, but soon, her expelled grief has soaked the T-shirt, where it’s still pressed against her face. I turn my body, adjusting her so she’s leaning into me fully, her arms now tucked against her own chest.

Pressing my hand against her forehead, I curl around her, whispering, “I got you. I got you.”

14

A Little Back Story, Please

Antonio

IfIthoughtkeepingTony and Darius in check was going to be easy, I quickly find out I’m wrong.

No sooner have Lilith and Antoinette disappeared down the hallway than I’m scurrying across the room, putting myself between Darius and the basement.

He attempts to go through me, but a sharp punch to the chest at least draws his attention to me. “You heard the woman, Darius. Whatever you think you’re gonna do is gonna have to wait.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he snaps.

I place both of my hands on his chest and push, looking at Tony to grumble, “A little fucking help here.”

Tony steps back entirely, crossing his arms over his chest as he says, “Sorry, man. I’m with the big guy here.”

I roll my eyes, annoyed by the fact I might need to actually stab the motherfucker, but then Agatha is there, shoving me back, as she stands in front of Darius and shouts, “Hey.”

He glares down at her, his hands moving to her shoulders as if he’s going to push her out of the way, then her hand comes up, and she snags his earlobe and twists viciously. “Don’t think you’re gonna play that fucking game with me.”

Her hand immediately moves from his ear to his shoulder, and I see her thumbs digging into a pressure point that has him backing up immediately. She releases him but follows so she’s still standing directly in front of him, and once she’s sure she has his full attention, she snarls, “I fully understand what it is you want to do. But get fucking control of yourself.”

Tony moves toward her as if he’s going to say something and she puts a hand up, effectively stopping him. But her focus is still on Darius’s face as she whispers, “Assuming that motherfucker is still alive, whatever happens to him next is entirely up to Antoinette.”

Darius scowls at her, and Tony, still standing there like he was going to say something, immediately steps back. She glances at Tony and then back at Darius as she says, “It’s likely that she’ll probably tell you two to tend to it, but you don’t get to take that decision from her. She’s already had too much taken from her.”

Darius stares back at her but then nods, both hands coming up in surrender.

She waits a few moments until she’s confident that the two knuckleheads truly understand what she’s saying, then she turns back to Darius, holds her hand out, and says, “Give me your shirt.”

Darius blinks at her and then says, “My shirt?”

She makes a frustrated sound in her throat and waves her hand at him impatiently. “Yes. Give me your fucking shirt.”

He looks at me where I’m still standing behind her, and I raise my brows at him, giving him an impatient look that has him shedding his jacket. He unbuttons his dress shirt, stripping itfrom his body and handing it to her. She grabs it, tossing it on the floor as she says, “The other one.”

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