Page 110 of Tattletale

“Answer her,” I urge, just to be met with another jab to the ribs from Riggs. I wheeze.

“You’re going to regret that,” I mutter.

Vienne holds her palm behind her, a clear command for me to pause. It reminds me of when I’m on a job with Vesper. I watch her hand like a hawk for the command to attack.

“Gabriel,” Vienne says softly. “Please tell me the truth. Tell me everything, and I’ll get on that plane with you. We’ll start our happily ever after.”

Lies.That’s all these two do is lie to each other. But the cycle continues.The way Gabriel’s eyes are melting into hers, I can tell he believes her. Or he’s that desperate.

“You’ll come with me?”

Vienne nods. “Tell me everything.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. I’ve known for years… It’s impossible. It’d have to defy physics. It’s simply not possible, Vienne.”

Reaching out, she strokes his arm down to his injured hand. She gently traces his bandages. “I wish I would’ve been there. We should’ve opened the bottle together. I hate to see you in pain. I mean that.”

He puts his good hand over hers. “All forgiven. It’s better now.”

“Because I’m here?”

He nods. “Because you’ll stay.”

“Gabriel, I need one more thing from you.”

He ducks his head, like a puppy seeking comfort. “Anything.”

Vienne looks back at me. “We have to let them go. They have nothing to do with us, anymore. Where’s Fiona?”

Gabriel shifts his eyes to the left. “She’s downstairs but…”

“But what?” I hiss.

Vienne holds out her palm again.Just wait.

“I meant to give her back alive. The tranquilizer was too strong, and Riggs dropped her down the concrete stairs when we brought her here. She hit her head.”

Three sentences. That’s all it takes for my blood to go from cool to boiling. But alongside the rage, is fear. I’m silent, mentally begging to every single god I don’t believe in that the next thing out of his mouth will be, “but she’s okay.”

“I checked on her before you got here.” Gabriel shakes his head. “She didn’t make it.”

It takes all the strength in my body to stay standing. My ears are ringing.

“Gabriel, she was a friend of mine. Are you saying you killed her?” Vienne asks.

“I’m saying it was an accident.”

I want to grab him by the throat. No, actually, I want to cut his fingers off one by one. Then, his toes. I want to hear him scream as loud as I’m screaming inside. “She’s not dead, you fucking, filthy liar,” I scream.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Check the basement,” Gabriel says, his sociopath demeaner returning. He holds his hand out for Vienne. “Let’s go.”

She doesn’t take it. Instead, her eyes fill with tears as she looks at me. “Lance, I’m so sorry. You know, this reminds me of a story. So tragic. So much unnecessary violence. The whole world on fire… Do you know the story of Spartacus?”

The code word snaps me out of my haze. And even though my heart might burst right out of my chest, I think seeing bodies hit the ground might ease the ache—even if only for a few seconds.

I throw my elbow backward, catching Riggs right in the nose. I hear the crack, but before he can even react, I grab his hand that’s clutching the pistol. I bend his wrist until the position is unnatural, then twist. He howls in agony as there’s another sharp snap. I break his wrist, except the fucker still won’t let go of the gun. Instead, reflexively he yanks on the trigger sending two shots forward.

“Get down,” I yell at Vienne. I don’t have time to ensure she abided by my command. I hear bodies hit the ground, and now it’s time to go to work. Gabriel’s other men are advancing, firing off their weapons like amateurs. Bullets fly past me on the right and left. If these men were half the shot I am, I’d be done. Luckily, they’re buffoons.

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