Page 20 of Ends of Being

He takes a few steps toward me, and I don’t move until his hand reaches out for me. I flinch and take a step back. I raise both my hands in front of me and luckily, he takes my cue for what it is and stops moving toward me.

“Do nottouch me,“ I say firmly, grateful there’s no tremor in my voice. “You just stay the fuck away from me. Do you hear me?”

Dare nods at me and replies, “I hear you, Antoinette. Please, just let me explain.”

My eyes widen at his words, my hands fisted at my sides as I practically screech at him, “Let you explain?” I stomp my foot and shout, “And what exactly is it you’re going to explain here?”

I start walking around the room like a crazy person, pointing out things as I go and explaining as sarcastically as I can muster, “How about this picture of me, which appears to be taken in my own home while I’m sleeping?” I move on to the next one and go on, “How about this one that appears to be taken while I was on vacation—a vacation that wasn’t even in this country?”

Finally, I stop in the middle of the room with my arms spread wide to showcase the newspaper clippings spread out before me. “Or how about this mess? Is this your fun little trophy to your murder scheme or what?”

He eyes me warily, starts to take a step toward me again, then stops when I immediately put my hands back up. He sighs, then replies, “I swear, I can explain everything if you just give me a chance.”

I cackle. I don’t giggle or laugh or chuckle; I outright cackle. I’m bent over at the waist, hands supported on my knees, outright cackling in what can only be described as a truly maniacal manner. It’s all too much; I just can’t deal.

He doesn’t say anything else as I continue to laugh, and eventually, I run out of steam and manage to stand upright, wiping mirthless tears off my face.

Chief Shields is standing in the doorway, leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb, eyeing both of us like we’re ticking time bombs. I glare at him, then stomp my way across the room until I’m right in his personal space and seethe, “Well,ChiefShields, aren’t you going to do anything about this?”

His eyes bulge almost comically, and he stands up straight, puts his hands on his hips, and asks, “And what exactly would you like me to do about it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you should do your job and arrest him,” I retort.

He raises his brows at me and asks, “Arrest him for what exactly?”

“What do you mean for what?” I’m almost shouting again, my hands flying around to emphasize my words. “Isn’t it obvious? Stalking? Murder? Being a fucking insane person? Pick something!”

Chief Shields tilts his head at me, obviously unsure how to proceed now that I’ve hit crazy town. And I’m definitely in crazy town right now. I feel completely unhinged and out of control, but I feel like I have to do something in an attempt to put things back to some sense of normalcy. As if there is anything I can do to backpedal this current situation.

“I’ll make this easy on you,” I say clearly and calmly. “Either you arrest him for any variation of the legitimate charges that are in this house, or I will make some calls and have someone else do it for you.”

Chief Shields glances over my shoulder, most likely reading the forecast on Dare’s face. Then I hear him behind me, his voice irate as he sputters, “Come on, Matt. You can’t actually be considering doing this.”

I spin around to face him, pointing a finger at him and spitting, “You shut your mouth. You have no right to be saying anything right now, and I don’t advise it without your lawyer present.”

Chief Shields sighs again, this time in obvious resignation, then walks over to Dare, speaking softly to him so I can’t make out the words. Dare looks him in the eyes and nods, then says something else incoherent. Finally, Chief Shields turns to me and says, “I’ll take him in and book him, but I need you to do me one favor in return.”

I scoff, but the look on his face makes me relent, so I ask, “Fine, what is it?”

“I need you to allow my trusted colleague to escort you home.”

I frown, sighing as I ask tiredly, “And who might this colleague be?”

A new voice pipes up behind me, “Well, that would be me.”

I turn around, startled to see a dark-haired stranger now leaning against the same doorjamb Chief Shields had been previously leaning on. I shake my head in exasperation and ask, “And who are you?”

He steps forward, holding a hand out to me, “Well, now, I’m Tony Andersen. Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally? Again?

I eye his hand skeptically, and after a moment’s pause, I reach out and grasp it firmly. He gives my hand a small squeeze, his twinkling gaze meeting mine almost reassuringly. I squint at him a bit, then let go of his hand, annoyed with myself that I don’t automatically hate him. He seems the unlikeable type, especially given the information Matt shared with me about his ongoing bromance with Darius, but for some reason, I’m inclined to have a tentative trust in him, which annoys me even further because I shouldn’t trust any of these assholes.

Everything is so incredibly fucked up. Two days ago, I lived in ignorant bliss, happy to continuously ruffle the feathers of my exceedingly dull coworker. And now, here I am, standing in the middle of this personal stalker drama. I sigh in defeat, then look over at Chief Shields and nod my head, stating, “Fine, this guy can escort me home. Now, lock that fucker up and never let him out.”

Dare raises his brows at me and snorts, “Seriously, Antoinette? Never let me out?”

I glare at him and then retort, “Whatever gets you away from me the longest.”

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