Page 87 of What Doesn't Kill Us

He shakes his head again and places a last kiss against my lips before he pushes himself away from me, pulling from my body and then moving from the bed. He disappears in the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth, which he wipes gently against my forehead, then tracks it down between my breast, across my belly, and finally, between my legs. He walks back into the bathroom, and soon, water is running in the tub, and he’s back, scooping me up and carrying me into the bathroom. He places me in the chair he insists on keeping in there, even though it doesn’t match at all, and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel okay right now.”

“Do you want me to get you something to eat? Drink?”

“I’ll take a drink, please, but no food yet.” He nods, disappearing once again, and I know he’s also giving me a moment to tend to my own personal needs. I’m back in the chair when he returns, a glass of fizzy water with cranberry in hand, which he gives to me.

I take a few sips as he turns the taps off, then sprinkles in some eucalyptus bath salts. Then he turns back to me, removing the glass from my hands and setting it on the shelf next to the tub before carefully scooping me up and placing me in the tub. I stopped arguing with him about whether I can walk on my own a long time ago. The fact of the matter is, he doesn’t care, and it’s not worth arguing about. I lean forward, and he climbs in behind me, pulling me back so I’m reclined against him.

His arms come around me, and I relax against him, a small sigh escaping. “I take it I’m not pregnant?”

“Well, you weren’t.”

I jab him with my elbow, and he laughs against my ear as I sputter, “You fucking stop that. It’s not funny.”

He laughs louder, squeezing me tighter. I squirm, attempting to elbow him in the gut as he replies, “It’s kind of funny. But no, you’re not.”

I’m silent for a moment, but then he continues, “But would it really be that bad?”

I give a half-shrug. “I mean, if it happened by our choice or purely by chance, then fine. I guess. But to have it forced on me? No fucking way.”

“I would never do that to you. I like my balls right where they are.”

Fucking right, he does. I’ll tolerate a lot of fucked-up bullshit from him, but there’s a hard line there. I consider reiterating this, but decide to change the subject. “Did Tony say where he is?”

“No, which means he’s likely up to no good. Which means I’ll likely have to go find out what kind of fuckery he’s up to.”

“Do you think he found Carolina?”

Dare presses his face against my neck, licking my pulse point as he responds, “I’m sure he has. He promised he wouldn’t kill her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t fuck her up in other ways.”

“Do you think we should intervene?”

“Not yet. She deserves a little fuckery for how she played us. But I think Tony could learn a few things from her as well.”

I agree. Carolina certainly pulled one over on us, but I also understand why she did it. Sometimes, you have to accept that things aren’t personal at the time and move forward with the new information. That doesn’t mean they’re the enemy or that they’re going to keep trying to come for you. It only means they’re trying to survive, trying to protect the people they love. I know that feeling. Darius sacrificed himself for me. Lilith lost her life for me. So yeah, we’ll sit back and let Tony have a little fun. At least we know he won’t kill her.

I turn my head, wiggling my body around so I can kiss him on the jaw. “I love you.”

He presses his face against the side of mine, his voice a rumble against my skin. “I know.”

Epilogue 2

Tony

So,Ilied.

It has been a while since I’d reached out to Dare—or to anyone, really. I’d gone off on a job overseas with a few of my old cronies, and then I had a little mission of my own I needed to tend to, that I didn’t need any distractions from.

Not that Dare would notice much usually, considering how long we’ve been friends and how often either of us can go dark. Or at least he wouldn’t be concerned. So, I’m sure the biggest reason he kept bothering me was because of Antoinette. She can be a meddlesome pain in the ass when she wants to be. God love her.

I mean, I wasn’t lying when I said I made it back to the States. I didn’t specify that I was back in New York City. I also didn’t tell him I’m hanging out in his secret hideaway deep in the woods. I’d like to call it a rustic cabin, but that’s a fucking lie.

I think he may have had the place updated in the last few months, like he’s updated every other property of his. He tried to wipe out any kind of reminder of what went down, and I can’t say I blame him, especially given the fact he’s currently happier than a pig in shit with the so-called love of his life.

I know. I’m a dick. And I’m not saying that Toni is not the love of his life; I’m totally being a dick for the sake of being a dick. Don’t get me wrong, I love Toni, too. She’s like the sister I never had—super annoying, bossy, and prone to sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s another reason I didn’t get Darius involved in my current situation: I don’t need her coming in and interfering.

I rise from my chair, stretching my limbs and moving into the kitchen to rinse my coffee mug. I leave it in the sink, move across the living space, and head up into the loft. That was one space he didn’t change, and I try not to think about the reasons he wouldn’t.

I walk around to the far side of the bed, pulling the duvet up and tucking in the bed skirt between the box spring and the mattress. I unlock the drawer and pull the handle so it slides out, and then I look down at my prize.

Soft brown eyes blink back at me, and I see the moment she recognizes me. Her eyes narrow, and she glares at me and mumbles something behind the duct tape over her mouth. I can only imagine what curses she’s trying to spew at me. I grin, and her eyes widen. She knows why she’s here. She knows why I hunted her down and brought her where no one will ever find her. She knows what she did and knows she has to pay for it.

I promised Antoinette I wouldn’t kill her. I won’t break that promise.

But that doesn’t mean she won’t wish she was dead.

I kneel beside her and run the back of my hand against her cheek. She flinches away, so I lean closer until my face is only a few inches from hers and whisper, “Let’s play.”