Page 37 of Tattletale

“Cricket, listen, I—”

“Stop,” I say again, holding my head in my hands. If she keeps talking, I’m going to fall apart. “Please stop. I’ve had enough…I believe you. Just stop.”

She gives me a moment of peace before she restarts with the questions. “What now?” Vesper asks. “What do you want? If you want to leave this all behind…I’ll let you go.”

Shocked, I lift my eyes. “What did you say?”

Anguish painted all over her face, Vesper nods once. “If you want your freedom, it’s yours.”

“But you’ve always said—”

“Forget what I said. This is for Erin. A debt repaid.”

I breathe in; the air feels thick and heavy with tension as Vesper waits for my reply.

“I need some time to think about it.” I run my finger along the rim of my empty glass. “Can you give me that?”

“As much as you need.” Vesper grabs her nearly full martini glass and downs it. “Another round?”

I nod. I want to drown in liquor tonight and forget as much as I can.

Vesper holds up two fingers, flagging down Ollie. She shuffles out from around the bar and I can’t help but think about the baby growing in her stomach. I wonder when the impenetrable maternal love begins. Does it take time to grow? Does a woman already know, even when she’s a few months pregnant, that she’d lay down her life for her child?

My entire world has been flipped on its head, but one thing I know for sure is Vesper would die to protect me. I don’t doubt that for a moment.

“To answer your question…” I lift my heavy lids to examine her confused expression. “Who you are to me,” I clarify.

“Yes?”

“You’re a mother to me. The only person I feel safe around.”

Vesper nods. She presses her lips together tightly, as if she’s trying to control an emotional reaction. “Okay.”

“But that means no more lies and no more secrets—from either of us. It will break us. We need a clean slate.”

She nods again. “Deal.”

I touch her forearm, gently. A small show of affection. “What time do I need to be at work tomorrow?”

“Six thirty.” She lifts her eyebrows. “In the morning.”

I roll my eyes. “For fuck’s sake.”

NINE

LANCE

I wakeup in the middle of the night with nervous adrenaline. I give in to the sudden urge to check my phone, thinking it means hope. I feel around in the dark on my nightstand for my device. As soon as I gaze at the screen, it glows in my face.

It’s 11:52 p.m. on Wednesday night.

And still no word from her.

Fuck.Stupid hunch. Wrong as can be.

Almost two whole weeks without hearing from Cricket is all it takes to drive me to the brink of madness. There’s been nothing to do lately except sit around and rot—no jobs, no updates. Normally, I’d appreciate a moment of peace, but Cricket’s still not speaking to me. It’s been eleven days since we brought her back from NYC. The way I feel right now, eleven days might as well be eleven fucking months.

Cricket’s never iced me out like this before. I will admit, I underestimated her reaction. I knew she’d be angry at me for telling Vesper about her plans, but in the end, how can she not see my reasoning? Did she think I’d stand by and let her finish her suicide mission? She would’ve been outnumbered. If Luca didn’t finish her off… Vesper would have.

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