Page 116 of The Spy
"Not the first time."
He was going to kill me later. It might be fun.
"I can't believe you fucking shot me."
"I need answers. You wrestling with dumbo there, it does me no good."
Drake groused from his position, his words slurring slightly. "Hey, I wanted to be Tweedle Dee."
I turned my attention on Gabe. "Will you just talk to me?"
His eyes were pleading even as he swayed. “He's never been a bad guy. He’s Intelligence."
Intelligence? There was no way that was true. Sure, he’d saved Saff, but he worked for the enemy. He’d also almost gotten her killed. How could Gabe not tell us?
Drake's words were really slurred. Likely a product of me hitting him with two darts. "I gave the Intel. Found out… target… mark. So… came."
The fact that he knew to come for us suggested they’d been working together. For how long? How long had Gabe been keeping secrets?
He’s Ops Command. He is nothing but secrets.
I knew that. I did. But this felt like betrayal. But more than that it highlighted the problem. Gabe would always have secrets. Things I couldn’t know.
It was more about the how, the jarring truth of it. There was no escaping shadows with him. But even when necessary, he’d try to control the situation. And he would always control me too. I'd never been one to mince words, but this time, my anger was boiling over like a volcano.
"You know, Gabe," I spat, "I'm getting real tired of the shadows and half-truths. You keep so many secrets I'm starting to think you're actually a Matryoshka doll with smaller, more irritating Gabe dolls inside." I dragged in a breath and glowered at him. "You want me to talk to you? You're going to have to talk to me."
He pressed his firm lips together. "No. You need to let this one go."
"I understand classified and non-classified. I know the reason for him walking around free must be dangerous and important. But I'm your partner in the field. This feels need to know.”
"Tabatha, I'm not trying to control the situation," he insisted, his voice as smooth as butter that's been slathered on a snake. "This is about national security."
“Oh, please. That's like saying ice cream is about dairy nutrition.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. "You always say that, Gabe. You'd think national security was your middle name or something."
He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. "Look, I can't always tell you everything. It's for your own safety."
"My own safety?" I snorted, my eyes practically rolling out of my head. "I'm not some delicate flower that needs protecting, Gabe. I'm a grown-ass woman who can take care of herself."
He looked away, clearly trying to come up with some clever response. But I had him on the ropes, and I wasn't about to let up. "Just answer me this, Gabe," I demanded, poking him in the chest for emphasis. "If Drake wasn't the one to rescue us, would you ever have told me?"
I could see the wheels turning in his oh-so-secretive brain, but he hesitated. That's right. I'd backed him into a corner, and he knew it.
Finally, he met my eyes with that infuriatingly calm expression of his. "Absolutely not," he said, his voice level and infuriatingly sure of itself. "It's my job to protect you. I take that job very seriously."
Well, wasn't that just the icing on the cake? The nerve of this guy, acting like he was my personal bodyguard or something. I was so furious I could've exploded into a million tiny pieces of righteous indignation.
But instead of detonating, I took a deep breath and counted to ten. One, two, three… Yup, still pissed. Four, five, six… Oh, who was I kidding?
I threw my hands up in exasperation. "You know what, Gabe? I don't need your protection. I need your honesty. I need a head's up. I need some communication. I need you to talk to me. And I certainly don't need your secrets. If you can't be honest with me, then maybe we shouldn't be together."
His face softened a little. "Tabatha, I'm doing my job. I don't want to put you in any more danger than necessary."
I laughed, a bitter sound that echoed off the walls of our cramped little hideout. "Well, guess what, Gabe? You're doing a bang-up job, because I feel more in danger now than I ever have before."
He opened his mouth to say something, probably some half-baked excuse or another empty reassurance. But I cut him off before he could even start.
"Don't bother, Gabe," I muttered, too exhausted to continue this fight. "Just save your breath for all those top-secret phone calls you like to make when you think I'm not listening."
