Page 44 of Tattletale

I shut my eyes so he doesn’t see me roll them. “Thank you.” I lean forward, letting my elbows rest on my thighs as I stretch, trying to get the blood flowing through my body. I freeze when Lance’s fingers graze my upper back. With the very tips of his fingers, he makes a trail from one of my shoulders to the other. It tickles deliciously, and I like the sensation, but again, I shrug off the sweet, tender intimacy.

“C, I…” Lance clears his throat. “Are you going to hear me out now?”

Looking over my shoulder, I meet his eyes. It’s the first time I’ve really seen them in almost two weeks. They look so fucking sad. I know it’s because of me. But what choice do I have? Lance chose…and chose wrong. I had a painful life from the moment my mother died. I’m used to it. But Lance was always my reprieve. He’s the man who always makes me feel better—my consolation prize for a life of tragedy after tragedy. Now, staring into his gleaming, baby-blue eyes and a smile seems impossible.

I decide to leave, but as soon as I scoot forward, the visuals of my mother being driven off the bridge flash through my mind...

There’s screeching and screaming. My brain plays the scene in black and white, so it’s extra dramatic and grisly. My mother’s eyes go still as she sinks to the bottom of the lake. When she hits the bottom, the car melts around her, and she’s swimming in a thick cloud of… I don’t know. Ink? Gasoline? It’s all in grayscale, so I can’t tell what’s surrounding her. I thought she was dead, but she tries to swat against the thick liquid that floats around her head like a lava lamp.

But there’s too much of it. The black liquid is blinding her. She can’t escape, and she’s starting to drown.

Oh…

Blood. It’s blood.Her blood.

“Mama,” I mumble.

The visual is so clear I actually reach for her, even though I’m fully aware I’m hallucinating. But as I clamp my eyes shut, the vision changes. The pool of blood is now soaking the ground. And it’s not my mother on the ground in a motionless heap. It’s my baby sister.Saoirse.I bite my lip, so it stops trembling.

The heap on the ground stirs, and I freeze, not ready to see my sister’s pale, lifeless face. But when the body rolls over, it isn’t Saoirse.It’s me.My skin is ghostly white but marked with the bruises Luca gave me all those years ago. I watch myself begin to cry…black tears. Blood tears. My stomach churns—

“C,” Lance whispers against my ear. He wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me into his lap, against his chest. “Come back. It’s okay. You’re just having a bad trip. It’s not real. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. This is.” He squeezes me tighter. “Feel me holding you?This is real.”

“Let me go,” I say, but I don’t budge. I let him hug me tightly.

“In a minute,” he replies. It’s only when I stop shaking that Lance loosens his death grip on me. He tucks my hair behind my ears and kisses the back of my head. “There you go. Keep breathing. You need water to flush it out.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Mixed a superhero pill with alcohol?”

He lets out a small chuckle. “Well, when Linc tells me not to do something—”

“You do it,” I finish.

“Exactly. Worst fucking night of my life. I tried to fight a fictitious bear. Linc made a cold plunge with a residential trash can and two jumbo bags of ice before stripping me down and throwing me in. He was cursing me out the entire time as he kept dunking my head underwater. He was so angry.”

I can’t help but smirk. “Were you having nightmares, or was Linc the nightmare?”

Lance laughs. “Both… But I think he was pissed because he was scared. I had a bad reaction. He thought I wasn’t going to make it.”

“I know everything about you, Lance. How come I don’t know that story?”

I feel him shrug behind me. Still in his arms, he jostles me as he lifts his shoulder, then drops it. “You were with Vesper in Europe somewhere when it happened. I was embarrassed. I cried like a little bitch. I was begging to see my mom and my brother. I wailed for my dad. I lost my fucking mind. It’s not a story I wanted you to know about.”

If we were the old Cricket and Lance, I’d turn around and hold him. There’s no shame in crying about what we’ve lost. But there’s a wedge between us now. I trusted Lance blindly from the get-go. He was my one truth.Us against the world.I just didn’t see the huge fucking asterisk that reads—unless it’d fuck up his relationship with Vesper.

He’s such a puppy. What a joke.

“How much longer do I have of these hallucinations?” I ask.

“Probably a few more hours. Less, if we call Vesper and get you an IV.”

I pull out of his arms and turn to face him, practically slicing him open with my hateful stare. “Yeah, good idea. Go call your keeper and rat me out again.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He pauses for a moment, then continues. “But don’t think for a moment I regret what I did. I know you’re mad, but you’re here.You’re safe.So, to me…it was worth it.” Impressively, he keeps his eyes fixed on mine, and not on my bare chest.

I’m about to tell him what a weak, sniveling snitch he is, but the haze takes over me again. I clamp my eyes, and the vision starts all over. Mom in the car, on the bridge…about to go over. I shake my head furiously. I don’t want to see it again. If I shut my eyes, it’ll only make it worse. I need a distraction. Something else for my mind to focus on.

And that’s when I notice Lance’s partial erection outlined through the thin comforter. He follows my gaze to his lap. “It’s almost morning. I can’t help it. I wasn’t trying to—” He blows out a deep breath. “Let’s just talk. Whatever you want to say, I can take it.”

---