Page 6 of Ends of Being

Antoinette stopped the thumping a while ago, apparently growing bored with the uselessness behind it once I cranked the music.

Knowing her, she could quite possibly be asleep. She never has had a self-preserving bone in her body, and I highly doubt she’s too worried, especially if she recognized me when I took her.

Or she’s quietly plotting my imminent demise.

I open the trunk without any flourish, stepping back in case she’s waiting to lunge for me or attempt to jump out and run, but there’s no movement from her. She’s partly on her side, facing me, and I can see the easy rise and fall of her chest.

I snort, shaking my head as I watch her sleeping form, tied and gagged. She truly is a piece of work, all fearless, brazen, and entirely infuriating. I want to protect her and spank her ass red at the same time.

I walk back to the driver’s side, leaning in and grabbing the small duffel bag from the passenger seat. I pull out some zip ties and a bottle of water, close the bag and toss it back onto the far side.

A rustling of leaves sounds behind me, and I move to stand just in time to see the large metal object being swung at me with a surprising amount of speed.

Unfortunately, I don’t see it in time to duck and take a glancing blow to the right side of my head as I attempt to dodge it too late.

I stumble back, the bag in my hand falling to the ground at the same time I’m falling against the car and a dark-haired she-devil draws back to clobber me again. I shake my head, my eyes quickly refocusing, and I manage to right myself and get my hands up just in time to stop her from caving my head in on the next swing.

Antoinette looks like a fucking goddess, rage burning in her eyes as she cusses me out. I can’t make out much through the ringing in my ears, but I gather she has nothing nice to say to me at all.

I ignore the buzzing in my head and smirk. “Come on, baby girl, don’t be like that.”

She pauses her attack, her face contorting in fury as she shouts at me, “You duplicitous motherfucker, making me believe you’re a goody fucking two shoes for all this time instead of showing me how completely fucking unhinged you truly are.”

I frown, my lips twisting in contemplation as I retort, “Unhinged seems a little dramatic. I prefer darkly eclectic.”

What I find amusing is that even after me stealing her from the parking garage, she really has no idea how unhinged I am. She knows nothing about who I am besides the surface bullshit I allowed her to see. She truly believed I was nothing more than a boring stuffed shirt swimming aimlessly in my sea of mediocrity.

Antoinette glares at me, showing me her teeth as she lunges for me, her fist jabbing out and catching me in the side of my neck as I barely manage to shift away. I grab her by both wrists, quickly overpowering her and pulling her back against me, using her arms as restraints.

She’s stiff at first, then slowly starts to melt, her torso sinking into me, her head coming back to rest on my shoulder, baring her neck to me. She’s panting; I can see her pulse pounding beneath her creamy skin as I press my face against her, inhaling a line up right beneath her ear.

“That’s a good girl,” I whisper gruffly, pressing my lips against her soft skin.

She whimpers, her breath catching in her throat, and I loosen my hold on her arms, allowing her to bring her arms up, her hands tangling in my hair. I smile against her neck, a low growl building in my chest as she presses her body back against mine.

I’m so enamored with the feel, taste, and smell of her that I miss the obvious tell-tale signs that she is indeed preparing to make a solid move against me. Yes, I’m a fucking moron, and the next thing I know, the world has gone upside down, and I’m laid out in the dirt, my balls absorbing a direct heel kick from her trainers.

Well, I knew better than to let my guard down with her, but what can I really say other than I’m a blind fool for her. She has spent our entire relationship actively winding me up, and I can honestly say I would’ve been much less interested in her had she been even remotely sane.

So, that leaves me here, on the ground, holding my junk, groaning in agony, completely helpless to prevent her from getting into my car and slamming the door shut. The engine starts and then there’s the whir of the power window being lowered.

Did she just spit on me?

“I will have you arrested and tossed in jail for kidnapping,” she yells, and I’m certain I can feel her waving her middle finger at me.

Then she drives away, leaving me in the dirt, still holding my junk.

That fucking bitch.

Toni

That fucking bastard.

Who does he think he is? Thinking he can lie to me for our entire relationship, then kidnap me, toss me in a trunk trussed up like a prized hog, and not end up on his ass with my foot in his balls. As if I could even, in good conscience, just let him get away with it.

I’m so furious it takes me a good ten minutes to realize I’m driving aimlessly at a higher speed than is likely reasonable on a dark foreign road. I slow down, then pull over to the shoulder and stop, putting the car into park.

I rest my head back against the seat, close my eyes, and rub my hands over my face as I ponder what I should do next.

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