Chapter 20 The Fractured Fantasy
THE FRACTURED FANTASY
EMERY
Anticipation thrums in my system as I scurry to my suite, Larry and Barry trailing behind me like silent boulders.
My displeasure with their presence is wholly overpowered by the nervous excitement fluttering inside my chest. It feels so wrong but so right at the same time.
I love being watched. I love the spotlight.
I love knowing that I’m wanted. And despite Amir’s proclivity toward submissive women, I know he’ll give me every ounce of his attention.
Approaching my suite, I sigh and look over my shoulder to my bodyguards. “Stay out here and don’t look so…obvious.” It’s ridiculous they’re even here. “Got it?”
They nod reluctantly, silently taking their posts on either side of the double doors.
With an eye roll, I swipe my key card and slip inside the suite.
Maneuvering through the dark, I enter the bedroom and flick on the lights, immediately darting toward the wardrobe.
My gaze sweeps across the various pieces of lingerie hung up, and I sort through the pieces until something speaks to my indecent soul.
As a sexy leather one-piece catches my eye and I reach to bring it off the hanger, a deafening click of a hammer being drawn back sounds behind me.
A gun.
Dropping the lingerie, I gasp and whip my head toward the door. My eyes widen as Toni saunters toward me dressed in a maid’s uniform. My gaze snaps to the pistol in her hand. To the silencer attached to the barrel.
“Scream and I’ll shoot you,” Toni says as panic fills my chest. She tips the gun in the direction of the bed. “Sit, Emery Jones. I just want to talk.”
I control my breathing, refusing to let her see me shaken. I’m fine. It’s fine. She won’t hurt me. She can’t. It’s a show. Perhaps she also enjoys attention. Enjoys praise. Just like me. I can handle this. I can handle her.
With a composed and slightly flirty tone, I say, “Usually when people want to talk, they don’t bring a gun.”
Toni casts me a fractured smile. “This is to make sure you listen.” She motions to the bed again. “Sit.”
With a stabilizing breath, I slowly walk toward the bed and perch down on the edge. Toni’s unreliable, scheming gaze sweeps across my face, and I swallow as she stares me down. There’s something off about her. She doesn’t look as stable as before. Not as…predictable.
“How’d you get in here?” I ask quietly.
Do I turn Luna on? Do I keep her off? I can’t gauge Toni’s intentions.
Toni scoffs, tilting her head. “Do you know how easy it is to duplicate a key card? To sneak into a service entrance?” She glances down at her uniform. “No one pays attention to the help, Emery Jones. Especially not the people who are here this weekend.”
If I scream for help, will she actually shoot? I don’t think she’d hurt me. I don’t think she can. But do I risk it? Or do I play along?
“What do you want to talk about, Toni?” I ask, straightening out my shoulders. I need to look brave. Confident. Or do I? Would she prefer weak? Fuck. It’s harder this time.
“I want the truth, Emery Jones,” she hisses, taking a step toward me. Her grip on the gun doesn’t waver. She doesn’t flinch as she points it at my chest. “Tell me the truth.”
I narrow my eyes, genuinely confused. “The truth about what?”
Her jaw twitches. “About what happened! About… About what you did to me.”
My pulse quickens from disbelief, and I try to keep my emotions level. Balanced. But suddenly, anger burns inside me.
What I did to her? What I did?!
What a fucking psycho.
“Tell me!” Toni grunts, pain and hurt and desperation flashing across her face.
“Tell me the truth!” Another step toward me.
She’s five meters away, but I can feel her breath.
Feel the fury that’s on the tip of her tongue.
She’s angry at me?! She’s hurt? Absurd. Completely baffling.
“The truth, Emery Jones. Tell me the truth.”
“You already know the truth,” I say, breathing ragged as my own rage builds. “You knew the truth the moment you woke up that morning and I wasn’t in bed beside you.”
Her eyes darken. “Lies. Those are fucking lies!” Her hands tremble. “The truth, Emery Jones!”
Delusional. She’s fucking delusional. “What do you want me to say, Antonia? Huh?” My filter shatters, and I no longer have control.
“Do you want me to say that I fell in love with you? That I loved you?!” A manic laugh spills from my lips.
“That I cared for you?” I shake my head, utterly perplexed by her broken psyche.
“You kidnapped me. You chained me to a fucking mattress. I did what I had to do to survive. I did what I had to do to stay alive.”
“I wasn’t going to kill you!” Toni hisses. “Do you not understand?! You were never going to die, Emery Jones. I would never allow…”
I scoff. “You weren’t the one I was worried about, Antonia.”
She swallows. “Simone was only trying to scare you.”
I lift a brow. “Now who’s the liar?”
Toni shakes her head, eyes glossy. “I helped you. I made you tea. I let you shower. I kept you warm and…” She sucks in a sharp breath. “You used me. You manipulated me. You tricked me, and…” A tear rolls down her cheek. “You made me believe that—”
I cut her off. “I didn’t make you do anything.”
“What?” she spits.
“You should take accountability for your own actions, Antonia,” I say. “It’s not my fault you were so easy to convince. All I needed to do was put on a sad face, and you ate it up. I think that says more about you than it does about me.”
Her hand shakes. “Stop it. Stop lying to me. I-I know what I saw. I know what I felt.”
“What you saw was an act,” I explain in a calm tone, needing her to let go of this fucking fantasy.
“What you felt was, perhaps, a twisted version of desperation and lust.” Her eyes widen.
“Does that surprise you?” She doesn’t respond.
“Fine. I’ll concede to that. You’re attractive, Antonia.
I-I thought you were attractive.” I cock my head.
“Does that make you feel better? Does knowing that I enjoyed fucking you, make you feel better?”
Her jaw tightens. “No. It does not.”
“I don’t know what else to say to you.” I shrug, running out of options. “You wanted the truth. That’s the truth.”
“You liked my songs,” her voice trembles, gaze distant. “That doctor said you liked the songs.”
I narrow my eyes. How is this relevant? “I did.”
“We…” She swallows, a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. “We could listen to them together. I-I have so many songs I can show you.”
“Put the gun down, Antonia,” I whisper. “It’s over. It’s—”
Toni rushes toward me, dropping to her knees, the gun still tightly grasped in her hand.
“Come with me, Emery Jones. You and me. Let’s run away together.
I…” She lifts her left hand up to my cheek and tenderly strokes my skin.
Her eyes pierce mine, chaotic and wild. “You are scared, bella. I can see it. The fear. But you do not need to be scared of me. Together, we can go anywhere. Anywhere you want. We can start fresh. New. Just you and me. All of this.” She waves the gun haphazardly around.
“All of this will be a funny story we tell our grandkids, huh? We will laugh, bella. Oh, how I want to laugh with you.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
She’s…she’s being honest. I can tell. She truly, truly believes in her delusions. Did I do this to her? Did I break her? Or…or was she always slightly damaged? Like me…
Guilt finds its way into my heart. Not just guilt. But empathy.
“Give me the gun, Toni,” I say gently, glancing down at the pistol. “Give me the gun and we can talk. I will talk with you.”
She blinks rapidly and frowns. “But we are already talking, bella. We are talking, and we are making a plan. Our plan. Our future plan.” She swallows, gaze flicking across my face.
“So, say it to me, Emery Jones. Say the words I know you are too scared to say.” She nods feverishly. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
What the hell am I supposed to do? To say? Do I feed into her delusion? Go along with her fabricated version of reality? Of facts? Or am I supposed to be honest? Truthful?
“Toni…”
I peer down at her, heart beating against my ribs as I cup her cheek in my hand. She smiles up at me with so much hope that I almost regret my choice. But I’ve always hated fantasies.
Always.
“Yes, bella?”
“I…” Reality over fantasy. Maybe the truth will set her free. She deserves honesty. We all do. “I’m sorry, Toni, but I can’t tell you what you want to hear. I…I don’t love you. I never have. And I never will. You’re seeing something that isn’t there. But we can get you help. We can—”
I chose wrong.
Toni lurches away from me, her entire body quivering as she paces in tight circles.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You are a liar, Emery Jones. Always fucking lying.” She whips her head at me, glaring.
“Secrets and lies and bullshit! That is all you are! You use people! You are a user! You are scared of love, so you push it away! You push and push and push!” Spit sprays from her lips as she adds, “You are broken, Emery Jones, and I am offering to fix you! Let me fucking fix you!”
My chest rises and falls as I slowly rise to my feet, my knees weak and shaking.
“You’re not going to shoot me, Antonia,” I say.
“I think all you wanted this whole time was my attention.” I swallow, glancing at the gun.
“You wanted me to notice you, right? Well… I notice you, Toni. I-I see you. And… And I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want, but you’re not a killer.
You’re not like Simone.” I hold out my hand, nodding.
“So, give me the gun, Toni. Give me the gun and we can get you some help.”
Toni stands frozen in front of me, the fire in her eyes extinguished in seconds.
“Oh, Emery Jones…” She regrips the pistol, pain and sorrow and contempt capturing every single one of her sharp features. “You do not know everything.”
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to die.
I don’t need to wonder anymore.
The lead bullet soars through the space between us at a remarkably slow speed. Slow enough that I regret every moment that I've ever wished for death. Every moment that I've ever regretted life.
And then it hits me. Physically. Through skin and fat and muscle and bone.
I don’t want to die.
But my wants no longer matter.
With a gasp, I grab my burning chest, eyes wide as I stagger back to the bed. Pain ripples through me, my vision blurry. Blood streams through my fingers. So much blood. With a haunting smile, Toni brings the gun to her temple. No. What is she doing?
“I’ll see you in hell.”
I don’t see the second bullet. I don’t see anything.
I don’t feel anything. But I hear it. It’s all I hear.
The ringing. It rings forever and ever and ever.
Until it stops. Until it fades. And then there are voices.
So many voices. Distant yet urgent. Hazy.
So hazy. Like mist and fog and smoke. Cold. It’s so cold.
"BP's 95/60 and dropping. Pulse rate 121!"
Who is that?
"OR two is ready. We need to move."
Focus. I need to focus.
"Gunshot wound... Left side... Chest... No exit wound..."
The words float in and out of my consciousness.
"Prepare for surgery... Penetrating injury... Pulmonary artery..."
And then, darkness.