Page 41 of Ends of Being

This man smiles at me coldly and motions with his hand for me to come toward him. I repeatedly shake my head and press myself back against the door, my hand shaking the door handle again to no avail.

The sinister smile grows as he says, “Either you come willingly, or I drag you out.”

I can tell he means what he says. The emptiness in his eyes, the glimmer of excitement that ignites with his words makes it evident. I give him a small nod, putting my hands up as I slide across the seat, hoping he’ll let me get out of my own accord. A hope that’s quickly extinguished as he grabs me by the back of the neck, yanking my hair as he drags me from the car. I trip over my own feet and almost fall over on the pavement, but his grip on my neck and hair tightens, keeping me upright.

My first instinct is to fight, so I thrash and kick, punching out blindly as I open my mouth to scream my head off. I’m quickly yanked around, and a sharp slap across my cheek snaps me out of my frenzy.

I stand there, frozen, my chest heaving and my scalp burning from where the man yanked viciously on my hair. My cheek is on fire, and I swallow down the panic that’s blooming in my chest. I have to grit my teeth against the renewed urge to scream, so I stand up straight and try to shrug off the man’s grip.

He loosens his fingers in my hair and stares me straight in the face as he asks, “Are you gonna give me any more trouble?”

I shake my head, but I don’t say anything as I attempt to relax my stance. He lets go of me then motions for me to follow him, the rest of his crew falling in around us as he leads me into a narrow alleyway and then into a small parking lot between buildings. There’s a van here, a windowless white one, and I can’t stop the shivers that run down my spine at the thought of having to get in it.

Sure enough, he leads me directly to the van, where he opens the back doors, motioning for me to get in as he bites out, “Get in.”

Everything inside me is screaming not to do it, and my heart is pounding with the panic churning inside me.

Every instinct inside tells me to take my chances with flight.

But I know it won’t work. There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

So, I take a deep breath.

And get in the van.

Chapter Seventeen

Dare

IsupposeIshouldn’thave been surprised that someone would make a move, knowing we had our pants down.

I rarely use men I don’t have a long history with, and this is just another example of why having to take Tony and Matt off Antoinette’s detail was not my first choice. That’s why the first time the subs missed check-in, I immediately went to COMs, and when there was no response there, I brought up the video feed.

Sure enough, I see the two incompetent fuckers lying on the floor, and I can’t help but hope they’re dead. Knowing time is of the essence, I immediately message Tony and Matt the appropriate code and call my associate to bring up the local video feeds and forward them to me.

My stomach is in knots, and I’m sweating as I make my way to our warehouse rendezvous point. I’m unfocused, and in my rush, I manage to miss my turn twice. I curse in frustration, my trembling hands slick on the steering wheel as I whip the car around and speed off in the correct direction of my destination. My mind races, and I have to force myself to stop thinking about worst-case scenarios, of Toni beaten and broken, of her gone forever.

I pull into the parking lot of the warehouse, my car screeching to a halt by the back doors, and I practically fall out of the vehicle in my haste to get inside and begin our search for her. Or what remains of her.

My stomach turns at the thought, and I vomit all over the pavement, the retching and coughing painfully purging these ends-of-being scenarios from my psyche. I stand there, hunched over and breathing hard, snot running from my nose, spittle dripping from my mouth, and I can’t stop the maniacal bark of laughter that breaks free from my chest. Then the sickness eases, and I’m left with a deep, burning rage. My blood boils in my veins, and the beast reverberates in my chest.

They’re all fucking dead.

Tony and Matt are already there when I finally manage to make it inside, and I see how furious they are. We knew this was likely to happen at some point; however, we were counting on it not happening just yet. Luckily, we have a plan in place for basically every possible scenario, so this just means we must move them up and adjust accordingly.

Recognizing my obvious conflict of interest, Tony is already prepared for me to defer to him on how to proceed. That’s one thing about having people close to you who you trust implicitly. At any moment, complete control can be given to any one of us with the understanding that it’s business as usual. With us, we have no ego, no arrogance attempting to lead us away from the mission at hand. It’s just pure trust.

I try not to think about the fact there’s the possibility that Antoinette is dead. My gut twists further, the reality leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

I twist my neck sharply, giving it a crack as I try to shake off that darkness, and I level my gaze on Tony as I ask, “What do we know?”

Tony links his tablet to the screen on the wall as he explains, “They must’ve been sitting on her all day and somehow managed to figure out the timing of the check-ins because they made a move right at the top of the rotation. It wasn’t difficult for them to get in, and it looks like they caught both guys completely off guard, considering they didn’t just kill them.”

I give him a dark look and mutter, “Doesn’t mean they’re going to stay alive.”

Tony gives me a look, rolling his eyes as he ignores my comment and continues, “Surprisingly, Antoinette took it all in stride. She appears to be pretty calm and collected, given a crew of complete strangers popped in and knocked around her security without so much as a blink.”

“She didn’t put up a fight?” I can’t help but snort, shaking my head in exasperation.

---