Page 67 of Ends of Being

Not that I would take any of it back with Antoinette’s life hanging over my head. I snort to myself. I never thought I’d see the day that someone could have collateral over me, but here I fucking am. Knocked on my ass, likely being prepared for shipment to the vilest location on Earth.

I’m still not entirely certain at what point my fascination with Antoinette turned into complete infatuation. I’m even less sure at what point my infatuation turned into a complete obsession. Adoration, really.

For the first few months that we worked together, I mostly ignored her. Of course, the more I ignored her, the more she sought me out, so I guess that plan worked in my favor. For the most part, I would just sit on the outskirts and watch her and how much she enjoyed her life, imperfect as it was.

She didn’t seem to have any friends, and she wasn’t overly close to her family for reasons I only had ideas about. She came off as abrasive, but I always knew once I managed to break through that bitchy exterior, there would be nothing but molten heat inside. And I was fucking right.

I remember the first time I broke through. I know the only reason things went as far as they did was because my behavior shocked her so much. I had her pinned against a wall with my thigh pressed against her pussy, my hard dick pressing into her stomach, and my hand pinning hers behind her back. I used my other hand to dig into her hair at the back of her head, pulling just short of the point of agony as I squeezed the back of her skull until her mouth fell open, and I dove in like a fucking animal.

She certainly stopped talking then, and when I finally backed off and let her go, she stared at me, panting for breath. I could see the look on her face, the confusion, the uncertainty, and just as quickly as the flare of need sparked in her eyes, I shut it down, turned on my heels, and left. Just left her standing there. I’m sure that pissed her off even more.

Then, just to add insult to injury, I ignored her for a week. I worked from home, took a short business trip, and by the time I came back into the office, I was able to pretend it didn’t happen at all. I did get some satisfaction from the glares she shot at me the first few times she came into my office, her hands on her hips, waiting for me to engage. I never even looked up, and she would eventually stomp off, but I found I couldn’t maintain that level of distance for very long, and eventually, we shifted right back into our old patterns.

The same scenario happened a few times over the span of a couple months. She’d go out of her way to rile me up, poking at me until I’d fucking snap and maul her in a closet or in the hallway, and once, right on top of my fucking desk, but then I’d leave her there and never speak of it again. After the first few times, she stopped attempting to speak about it, but I was always relieved her attitude toward me didn’t change—that would’ve been a real shame.

Now, here I am in this pitch-black room, waiting to find out what’s next. I guess that’s what happens when you attempt to make deals with snakes. I’m startled out of my thoughts when a metal door creaks open. I don’t bother sitting up or even acknowledge that they’ve entered the room; it’s not like I can see who’s coming in. There’s some muttering across the room and what sounds like someone slapping the wall.

Suddenly, bright light fills the space, and I sit up, covering my eyes with my hands. I lean over with my elbows braced against my knees, fighting the urge to throw up as the pain in my head jackhammers.

I slowly manage to crack my eyes open, staring at the floor while my vision adjusts to the light. A pair of shiny black shoes appear in my line of sight, and I painfully manage to remain upright, squinting up at my new visitor, and I immediately frown, shaking my head, and then regretting it as I say, “Fuckwad.”

He smirks at me, putting his arms over his chest as he replies, “Really, Darius? I don’t think it’s time for names.”

I give half a shrug because that’s all I can manage, then lower myself back down to a prone position in the hopes my head will stop swimming. His steps move around me before chair legs scrape against the concrete. I crack an eye open to see him sitting in front of me, one of his legs crossed over the other, and his palms resting on his thighs as he leans back and eyes me. “It seems we have a problem.”

I snort, unable to control any response at this point, and then give a little chuckle. “I can’t imagine what that could be.”

He glares at me. “And now we joke? It doesn’t appear that you’re in a position to be joking.”

I give another nonchalant shrug, but I don’t say anything this time. I’m not in the position to do much of anything, and I lack the strength to even pretend to give a fuck about that, but I’m unable to control my chuckles. I lift one arm up, motioning weakly for him to continue before letting it fall back to the bed limply.

He shifts in his chair, and both his feet hit the floor before he continues, “You didn’t exactly uphold your end of the deal since it’s apparent our initial story wasn’t believed at all. I’m not entirely sure what went down to make Antoinette lose her shit like that, but I have my suspicions.”

I give another shrug, as it seems that’s all I have the energy for, something as indelicate as shrugging. “Antoinette is not a stupid woman. She probably picked up more from us saying nothing than she did from the words that came out of my mouth. But I don’t see why it matters, either way, since I’m here.”

He nods. “I wish I could say that she wasn’t going to be a problem, but I have a feeling that’s not the case. And don’t even get me started on that crazy bitch that keeps lurking around, Lilith Ferro. She’s like a disease that will fester until it is eliminated.”

I attempt to sit again, but only manage to bring my elbows up under me as I try to stare him down, but I mostly just mumble, “You better not lay a fucking hand on either of them.”

He laughs. “And what are you gonna do about it, Darius?”

I squint back at him, then lay down as I mutter, “You know the motto, fuckwad. You fuck around, you find out.”

He raises his eyebrows at me, shakes his head. “You boys and your stupid fucking motto.”

I laugh again, rolling over all the way onto my back and pressing my hands against my face, likely jumbling my words even more as I reply, “Well, it has served us pretty well so far, and I imagine it will continue to do so until the bitter end.”

He shifts in the chair, and then he says, “Well, it seems your bitter end will be coming sooner than some. I’ve decided I’m still going to ship you out, and then you’ll be somebody else’s problem. I’m sure I’ll be able to get a good price for you on the old retribution market. Turns out there are a lot of fucking people out there who aren’t very fond of you.”

I attempt to roll my eyes behind my hands, but all the movement does is make my stomach lurch. I have to say, I’m feeling pretty juvenile, which is kind of ridiculous given my circumstances. I know there’s nothing I can say at this point that will change the outcome or his current decision, and it isn’t like I can do anything since I can’t even sit up without feeling like I’m going to vomit. If I have to fight my way out of anything right now, I’m definitely a dead man.

Fuckwad doesn’t say anything else; he just stands up and exits the room. The slide and click of the deadbolt sounds as he locks me in. I wouldn’t say I have a death wish, but I also won’t go into my death with any sadness or regret. He’s correct about Antoinette not buying our attempted ruse in the first place, which is why I felt the need to whisper my true feelings for her, and I’m relieved that she knows.

I would feel far worse about my imminent demise if I hadn’t told her, and since I was mostly certain my end would be coming regardless of how the events in the warehouse panned out, I figured it was best this way. She’ll forgive me eventually and move on with her life, and I’ll be a distant memory that she can frown over on the odd occasion I come to mind. At least I know that Matt, Tony, and Lilith will look out for her. They’ll lead her into a good life, and everything we’ve done in these last months won’t have been in vain.

I’m not sure how long I lay there half-dozing and ruminating on my life’s work thus far, but the next thing I know, the locks on the doors click and the door creaks open and then a bunch of footsteps move toward me. I’m not feeling quite as shit as I was before, but I’m still not great, so all I do is crack an eye open and peek up at the group of people standing over me.

I don’t recognize any of them at first glance, but none of them look too happy to see me. They continue to just stand there, looming over me, so finally, I open both eyes and squint up at them, asking, “Can I fucking help you?”

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