Page 98 of Tattletale

And outside of the pain, I’m still okay…

The man steps back a few paces, his narrowed, dark eyes never leaving me. Reaching up, I touch my neck to feel the end of a dart. I wince as I yank it out of my neck. Right on cue, my vision starts to go blurry. My eyelids feel heavy, and my hand falls to the ground as I lose feeling in my right arm.

“What did you…” I try to ask, but the words seem to be fleeing. Everything is blurring together.

“Tranquilizer. You’ll live…for now. Boss has plans for you, sweetheart.”

“Fool,” I murmur, as I summon every ounce of strength to memorize this man’s features as my world starts to go dark.

He should’ve killed me…

Because I swear if I ever see him again…

I’ll kill him myself.

TWENTY-SEVEN

CRICKET

Every partof my body aches. My mouth is so dry, my tongue is sandpaper. My eyelids feel glued together, but somehow, I rip them apart. The first thing I notice is that I’m tucked in a nice bed, underneath a warm comforter. The second thing I notice is that I’m in a glass cube. The last thing is his eyes on me.

“Well, good morning, princess.” Maybe it’s the sinister look on his face, or how his voice is raw and raspy, like he just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes, but there’s a new Gabriel sitting on the other side of the glass. “You’ve been sleeping a long time.”

He is sitting in a lone plastic chair outside of the side of the glass box. On the table next to him is a box of chocolate-dipped croissants.

The back of my head hurts. I reach behind my head and find a sizeable lump that feels tender. That can’t be good. Firm swelling is fine. Soft and squishy is a problem. Now I’m worried that my vertigo isn’t just from the tranquilizer. Maybe I have a serious head injury.

I look up and down my arms to see bruises in the vague shape of fingers. I don’t recognize my clothes. I’m in silk, black pajama bottoms, and a matching camisole. “You changed me,” I mutter.

“You saw me naked.” He smirks. “I thought it was only fair. By the way, your tits are the eighth wonder of the world.” After surveying my narrowed eyes, he laughs. “Oh, calm down. I’ll cross a lot of lines, but not that one. We didn’t have sex.”

“I wasn’t wondering if we had sex. I was wondering if you raped me. Call it what it is.”

He arches one brow. “Whatever you want to call it…didn’t happen.”

It’s a wonder to me how I can hear him so well. I look up to the top of the glass box to see a row of holes embedded in the cube, barely large enough for a finger to slip through. These must be so I can breathe. Otherwise, I would suffocate in this glass prison.

Oh.I know exactly what this box is. It's a discarded stage from The Dollhouse. But instead of a trapdoor in the floor, there’s a glass door that’s nearly seamless, cut into the side of the wall and reinforced with a thick, metal frame. On the outside of the door, there’s a number pad. It’s an electronic lock.

None of the stages for The Dollhouse have this mechanism. Gabriel insisted his dancers were never trapped. So, I can’t help but wonder if Gabriel had this particular cage fashioned specifically for me. Then again, maybe I’m not his first victim.

I look around the vast room outside of the glass. It’s empty outside of a few extra broken stages. Some of the glass boxes are missing walls. Others have deep cracks in the glass. They’ve been discarded down here in what seems to be something of a warehouse. The floors and walls are concrete and there are rows of boxes stacked in one corner. This must be a storage area, meaning I have to be in the basement of the club.

“Why am I here, Gabriel?”

“I told you liars were a really big pet peeve of mine, right? I guess you could call this me working out my aggression.” He pumps his brows.

I touch my neck, feeling the small scar bump where Vesper stabbed me with the tracking device. Gabriel’s foolish if he doesn’t free me soon. I will be looked for, and he will pay the consequences. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“About two and half days.” He holds up his hands. His wounded hand has a new, sleek, black bandage. His mobility already seems to be returning. “For that, I’m sorry. Riggs shot you with a tranquilizer that was strong enough to take down a rhino. Honestly, I thought he killed you.”

I try to clear my aching, parched throat. “Seems like you’ve had plenty of time to dry your tears.”

“Oh, come on, Fiona. I’d miss you if you were gone.” He flashes me a villainous grin. “Or at least I’d miss your tits anyway.”

My stomach twists so painfully that I can’t help but clutch my stomach with two hands. A loud growl comes from my midsection. I know this pain all too well. Except this time, hunger pains are paired with severe dehydration. At least Luca gave me a bathroom with running water.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you hungry?” Gabriel asks. He grabs a croissant from the box and chucks it with all his might at the thick wall of glass. I’m too weak to even flinch.

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