Page 66 of Ends of Being

Matt interjects, “So you thought you had killed all four of them?”

She nods. “That sums it up. And I’m pretty fucking mad that I didn’t know that the fourth one was still alive. You can blame fucking Jimmy for that.”

I squint in confusion and ask, “Who is Jimmy?”

Tony laughs again as he answers for her, “Jimmy is the guy she had strung up in the warehouse who told her about the tracker inside you.”

I shake my head. “And what happened to Jimmy?”

Tony cackles even louder, obviously getting a kick out of being able to tell the story. “Oh, Nettie. Jimmy’s dead. She chewed that fucker’s throat right out. It was epic.”

I shudder a bit, knowing how gross that is. “But who was Jimmy? Was he a lowlife pawn or something?”

Lilith has a sad look on her face, and her eyes seem far away as she replies, “No, Jimmy was my husband.”

Tony gives her a strange look and asks, “Wait, you’re married?”

She levels him with a scathing look and replies angrily, “Well, technically, I’m a fucking widow.”

Tony glares at her. “You killed your own husband? I mean, you didn’t just kill him; you literally ripped his throat out with your teeth.”

“And your point?”

He put his hands up in surrender, saying, “I guess I don’t have one. Carry on.”

Lilith looks over at me and explains, “Jimmy and I go back a long way. He’s been around the organization since he could walk, and our families have always crossed paths pretty regularly, and they decided we should solidify the bonds between the families. Honestly, that was one punishment I didn’t find too unbearable. Jimmy wasn’t horrible. I mean, it could be kind of boring sometimes, but occasionally, I could pretend he loved me.

“Of course, I see now it was all part of a bigger ruse. I thought the majority of people who knew about you were dead, but I never took into account that Jimmy also spent his life in the shadows, so he knew a thing or two about staying out of sight in order to acquire information without anyone knowing. Turns out he was the one who helped them find you initially. Seems Jimmy and that asshole crossed paths at some point, and the ridiculous plan to steal you away and deliver you into the hands of the enemy took root. It wasn’t until they took you this last time that I started to put the pieces together. Like, who in my inner circle would’ve known what I was up to? When I first got the call from Matt asking about your whereabouts, Jimmy was there, and all I mentioned to him was that there seems to be a rat about. The look on his face…”

She drifts off for a moment, lost in thought, and it’s Tony clearing his throat that snaps her back to the now. “Of course, he tried to point the finger at other people, even going as far as to implicate Mickey, if you can fucking believe it. Goddamn, he was so fucking stupid. That guy, Mickey, he practically raised me. He would literally lay down and die at my feet before ever betraying me. But not Jimmy, nope. What I find the most amusing is that I genuinely believe he thought he was going to get away with it. I mean, you can say whatever you want about me, the worse it is, the more likely it’s true, but the absolute worst thing you can do to me is insinuate that I’m stupid. That someone could pull the rug out from under my feet, and I would be none the wiser. Now, that just pisses me off.”

She stares off at the wall on the other side of the room, then chuckles softly as she continues, “And when I set up the scene like we were going to interrogate Mickey, that arrogant fuck actually thought it was working. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized he was the one who was truly fucked. You know what they say about a woman scorned—back us into a corner, and we’re going to show you our fucking teeth.”

She falls silent again, and remains quiet for a few moments, her hands falling onto her lap as she stares down at the floor with a lost look on her face. Then just as quickly as it arrives, she blinks, and it’s gone. She looks up at me and meets my eyes as she says, “I’ll tell you right now, Toni. If you find any person in this world who would lay down and die for you, you either find a way to be with them or you go to the grave with them. Because that shit doesn’t happen twice.”

Matt interjects again, “Well, you look like you have a plan.”

She gives him a look of complete uncertainty, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, not exactly. But I think under these circumstances, we’re just going to have to go back to that dumb saying I keep hearing you all use.”

Tony cocks his head at her in question. “And that would be?”

She turns her head to look at him, the smile growing on her face as she replies, “We’re gonna fuck around and find out.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dare

Ihaveonanoccasion or two, heard the last words of dying men. People always assume that they’re going to be poetic, or at least in some way revolutionary, but I have found, in most cases, they’re either angry or bitter or just out of fucks. That’s why when I finally managed to peel my eyes open into the darkness and said to myself,what the actual fuck? I figured it was unlikely that I was dead.

The last thing I remember was someone bashing me in the head with a weapon and the sound of a gunshot. Not entirely sure which one came first, but regardless of that, it was complete nothingness after.

I attempt to sit up and squeeze my eyes shut against the pain in my head before giving up and lying back down. My tongue feels thick in my mouth: I try to swallow, but my mouth is so dry it proves impossible. I clear my throat a few times, stretching my jaw out and rolling my tongue around in my mouth in an attempt to get things moving again.

From the stiffness of my body, I feel like I’ve likely been here for a while, and I lay still for a few moments to get my bearings on what type of room I might be in. Everything remains motionless, and I release my breath in relief to find it is very unlikely that I’m on a boat because being on a boat would fucking suck.

I stretch myself out, slowly taking inventory of my injuries, grateful that I don’t seem too worse for wear, considering they likely knocked the shit out of me while I was down. Other than what is likely a concussion and a few rather large contusions, I seem to be mostly in one piece. I’m also relieved to find most of my clothing is still on, especially since no one wants to be in a cold, dark room with their ass hanging out.

I reach my left hand over to my right wrist and smile when I feel my watch is still there. Antoinette gave me this watch a while back, and I basically never take it off. Over the last few months, she has asked me about it a few times, unaware that it was a gift from her. She always teased me, asking if it was a gift from my secret lover, and I had no choice but to tell her, “Only in my dreams.”

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