Page 107 of Tattletale

It keeps happening in the same pattern. First, the glass box disappears. It’s almost like I’m transported somewhere else, butthere’s no continuity. I can’t make sense of it. I feel my mother’s arms around me, the way she used to hold me as a little girl when I had a nightmare. The hug is warm, almost too warm. My eyelids go heavy, and I feel nauseous as I taste metallic in my mouth. That’s all I can ever recall. Then, I wake up in various places around my cage. I lose chunks of time with no explanation.

The bump on the back of my head is getting bigger and bigger. I know I’m blacking out and falling. I’m probably crashing against the glass and making my head injury even worse.

I’m almost positive I’m having seizures.

This is why I haven’t left the bed much. I lie flat in the middle of the mattress just in case another episode takes over. The less I exasperate my injuries, the more time I give PALADIN to find me. I don’t understand; they should’ve realized I’m gone by now. Vesper should’ve activated this tracker. I’m rotting in here, not even half an hour from headquarters.

Where are they?Maybe they aren’t coming.

It’s right as I’m thinking that at least I’ll get to see my mother again in death, she appears, lying down right next to me.

My brain knows it’s a hallucination, but I still relish in the moment. It seems so real. She looks so much like me…or I look like her, I suppose. I reach out to touch her long, blond hair. She has her curls brushed out, and her hair is beautifully thick and full. Her cheeks are rosy, and her lips a bright strawberry red. She looks positively alive.

“Fiona,”she whispers.

At first, I don’t say anything, scared my brain will distort this beautiful fantasy if I mix my thoughts with words.

“How are you, my baby?”Mama smiles at me and touches my cheek. I swear I can almost feel it. I can almost smell her.Like sweet berries mixed with an earthy richness. I love that smell.

I risk a quick response. “I’m okay.” I don’t even recognize my voice. It’s so deep and raspy.

“You’re hurt,”she croons over me, her smile turning into a frown.

“You’re right,” I murmur. “But I don’t want to talk about that. Where are you?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“I’m going to be with you soon, Mama. Saoirse too. It’s not so bad if I stay focused on that.” The tears spill out of my eyes and seep into the pillow. “I think it’ll be soon now.”

Mama shakes her head.“Not yet, baby.”

More tears drench the pillowcase. “I’m ready. It hurts. I just want to be free.”

“Not yet,”she says again.“You have to stay, Fiona. He loves you so much. He’s not ready to let you go.”

“They’re not coming. Lance isn’t coming. I don’t want to have hope.”

“Fiona, he’s coming.”

Mama begins to fade as I taste the strong metallic in my mouth. My tongue turns sour, and I know what’s coming next. “Wait…wait,” I plead, my words sounding garbled. “Come back,” I try to say, but my words aren’t lucid.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me all alone.I plead mentally when I can’t force my lips to move.

But Mama fades…

And I have no choice but to succumb to the darkness.

THIRTY-ONE

LANCE

Per Gabriel’s instruction,we pull into the back of his well-known strip club, The Dollhouse, and wait for him. I’ve never been inside it, but I’ve heard stories. Apparently, it’s like an uppity museum of bare tits. Not the normal kind of strip club a single man would expect. But then again, there’s nothing normal about Gabriel.

I turn to Vienne, who is still dutifully wearing the black hood. “You know you can take that off until he gets here.”

“Lance, from the very moment we step out of this car, you need to play the role. Gabriel has surveillance everywhere. He likes to control the situation. He’s had eyes on us from the very moment we pulled in. So, when it’s time, open my car door, then put your gun into my back. A flawless performance is the only way you, me, and Cricket make it out of here alive. Gabriel likes mind games—let’s play them.”

I blow out a deep breath as the various scenes run through my mind. I try not to think of Cricket as anything other than alive, well, and eagerly waiting for me to bring her home. I don’t think I could live through any other scenario.

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