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eimarraBodyguard of Lies is a serialized science-fiction novel updating once a week on Tuesdays. If you missed last week’s episode, Questions, it can be found here. You can catch up on the entire serial on this page with a description of the story and links to all published episodes.
Bodyguard of Lies
Episode 16
And No Answers
Gareth waited until his sister walked out of the room with the Vuest merc before he slammed his fist into the wall. Sheil’s body had been brought on board with the others. There was no question that her throat had been cut with a knife. Was some of the blood soaking his uniform hers?
It had to be. No one else had been killing, so they said, and even if the damned looey didn’t like him, he had no call to be lying about something like that. Nah, Gareth had done it, and he knew why.
So what if he hadn’t known it was her when he did it? Maybe part of him had known. No, that was crazy talk. He loved Sheil. She’d been pissed at him about her birthday — At the thought, his eyes stung.
Shit. He hadn’t given her anything for her birthday, and now he was never going to be able to make it up to her. Both fists slammed into the wall this time, and he tried to forget the soapy feel of her when they’d climbed out of the shower and headed for the bed that last time.
Slam. Slam, slam, slam.
Maybe they’d use those drugs to wipe his mind. Not as selective as going in with a mind-scrubber, but there was no question that it would work. Hey, his stupid liver might serve some purpose after all.
He sagged against the wall. Why couldn’t it have been Tam he took out? Why Sheil?
The door opened behind him, and Gareth spun around, fists out.
The leader of the other mercs stood in the doorway, chin stuck out, staring at him.
“What the hell do you want?” Gareth didn’t see any reason to be polite.
“Answers.” The door closed behind him, and the merc stepped forward.
“Huh. Think you can beat them out of me?” Gareth moved warily backward, one eye on the merc, one on the unfamiliar furniture.
The guy sat down in a chair. “If I wanted those kind of answers, I’d send in some of my team. They’re very good at that kind of work. And they enjoy it.”
“You don’t.”
Of course not. Sabra was so predictable.
“How long have you known Sabra?”
Gareth chewed his lip for a second while he thought about the question. So Sabra hadn’t told them who he was. He wouldn’t in her place, either. And it wasn’t like he went out of his way to tell people he was related to the famous gladiator. The only thing worse than the people who didn’t believe him were the ones who did — and had a grudge.
He eased himself onto the bedside table. “Interesting question. How long you known our girl, then?”
The merc frowned. “I’m asking the questions.”
“Yeah, but you asking polite like. What means if you want my answers, you got to give me some info too, see?” He slipped easily into the patois; he’d lived in it for years, and he kept it up, one more way to distance himself from Sabra.
The man shrugged. “I just met her today.”
“Ooh, fast work on her part, then, isn’t it?”
The Vuest merc leaned forward. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. It’s not as though I hadn’t seen her before.”
“A fan boy, then? What’s yer name?”
“Call me Mick. And I’m not a fan boy.”
“Right you are, Mick. Not a fan boy, just a guy been watching her for a while from the sidelines who’s got a hella hard-on for her then.” Gareth rubbed his arms; the antidote spray had raised some blisters, and the med pack hadn’t really helped. “So you want to know whether I’m competition, that it?”
Mick looked away from Gareth’s gaze. Man, she hooked them fast. Gareth was so tempted to tell the guy that yeah, he and Sabra were thinking of hooking up again. Make her miserable, as miserable as he felt with Sheil gone . . .
Shit.
He’d managed to not think about her for a whole minute, but now the pain was back. Gareth leaned back in his chair.
“You’re going to have to ask her about it. She ain’t the type what enjoys others spilling her secrets, y’know?”
Mick stood up and crossed the room to stand over Gareth, his fists bunched at his sides. “What’s it going to hurt you to tell me?”
Gareth leaned back. He should be intimidated, but this guy wouldn’t touch him as long as he thought Gareth might help him get closer to Sabra. Too bad Gareth didn’t feel like playing along.
He let the dialect fade. Right now, it was just too exhausting. Anything that required thought was. “Look, Mick, I got nothing against you. You seem like a nice enough guy, you’re doing your job — which means I’m on my way to see the cops, and deservedly so, and meanwhile you’ve decided you want to chase one of the most popular women in the city. Great, have lots of fun, but I’m not telling you nothing.”
“So you won’t get in my way?”
Gareth shook his head, unable to trust himself to say anything. He wasn’t enjoying himself nearly as much as he should be for this kind of a joke. He slammed his fist down next to himself and stood. Mick backed up.
“In case you missed this, I’m in here because I just slaughtered my friends and co-workers. And those I didn’t kill, well, they’re in the other room, trying to figure out how they can get away with killing me. So I don’t really think that you need to worry about what I want or don’t want.”
Gareth brushed past Mick and stood pointedly by the door. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my brooding.”
Mick stood for a moment and stared at him. “Yeah, you got a lot to brood over.” He crossed the room and paused with his hand on the door. “You really kill your woman?”
“So I’m told.”
Gareth threw himself on the bed. He was tired of this conversation, tired of being here, tired of this day, this pair of days. Sheil’s birthday, and it had gone so terribly wrong from the very beginning. He should’ve bought her flowers and champagne and whatever else he could’ve found on his way home. But no, too tired, too fucking fed up with Tam, too annoyed at how she enjoyed the things he couldn’t have.
Sometime after the door closed, Gareth rolled over and stared at it for a long time. So Sabra had a nice, clean-cut guy interested in her. He’d have to see what he could do to break that up. She’d saved him. She could’ve taken him out. Well, no, she probably couldn’t have, with his reflexes hopped up, but she was fighting nice. She’d brought the antidote with her; she’d been intent on saving whoever had been there. She didn’t have to, but she had. It was who his sister was.
So he got to wake up and face a world where he’d killed Sheil. He didn’t think he could forgive Sabra for that. Especially if she was going to take up with that Mick character. He’d have to see what he could do for her. Preferably something just as nice.
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Click here to continue reading with Episode 17, Emotional Tightropes.
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Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.
