Gage clenched his hands into fists, digging his nails into the skin of his palms. He hoped Fiona, who was sitting next to him on the subway, couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to find some way to release the anger in his body, the fury that had bubbled up inside of him ever since he heard someone say that “Carl” was at the compound looking for Fiona. It didn’t take much for Gage to figure out who that was.

For one moment—one long, glorious moment, wrapped up in Fiona’s arms—he thought he had her again. He thought they were together. How could they not be, after they’d joined their bodies and minds and souls as deeply as they had? But Fiona hadn’t contradicted him when he called Carl her fiancé. She hadn’t made any promises to break up with him, and for some reason, Gage was too proud to ask her to do so. He figured that if she wasn’t willing to voluntarily leave Carl, she wasn’t likely to do so just because Gage asked her.

“Here we are,” Gage muttered under his breath as they rolled to the stop nearest the Bandits’ compound. He got to his feet before the train came to a complete stop, stepping out of the subway and onto the platform before Fiona had even gotten up to her feet. He knew that if he waited for her to step alongside him, he’d be tempted to take her hand, to hold her the way he had for the last several hours back in his apartment, and that was unacceptable for the moment.

After exiting the subway stop, he started walking so fast that Fiona had to run to catch up with him, even though she stayed a step behind, somehow sensing that Gage needed a little space. Even so, there was a part of him that silently begged her to come up and grab him, to stop his quick pace and force him to listen as she reassured him that she wasn’t about to choose the man from the country, the man without a face that haunted Gage’s mind like a poisonous ghost. She wasn’t going to, though. She hadn’t said anything since he told her that Carl was waiting for her. She’s not going to stay with me, Gage told himself, trying to manage his expectations ahead of time, as if she’d already chosen the other man. She’s not going to. Don’t fool yourself. She doesn’t love you. Not like you love her. Not with her full heart.

Gage walked up the steps to the compound and quickly rapped his fist against the door, hoping someone would open it right away before Fiona caught up with him. He didn’t want to be next to her right now. He didn’t want to feel the heat radiating off her body or his hunger for her. He didn’t want to be tempted to touch her, not right now.

The door swung open a minute later, revealing Cash, the MC’s new chef. “Gage, buddy, I didn’t expect to see you this week. Heard you were busy with that new case,” he said, stepping aside so Gage and Fiona after him could step inside.

“Yep,” Gage said sharply, wanting to avoid any long conversation at the moment. “Where’s Carl?”

“I think he’s still in the kitchen. He was kind of uncomfortable hanging out at the bar,” Cash said, falling into step beside Gage as he headed towards the kitchen, hearing Fiona trailing them.

He saw the fiancé as soon he stepped into the kitchen, a mousy, short-looking fellow with brown hair, hunched over and staring at his phone on the kitchen counter.

So this was the guy. This was the man she’d chosen to shape her new life around. Somehow, Gage was disappointed that he wasn’t more handsome. For some reason, he felt that if he her fiancé was actually attractive—or at least distinctive looking—he would better understand the appeal for Fiona, and maybe it would even be a tiny bit easier to let her go, although there was some part of him that knew he could never release her from his heart, no matter what happened.

“Hey,” Carl said as soon as he saw Fiona, getting to his feet and walking over to her, completely ignoring Gage. “What the hell, Fiona?”

“What?” Fiona asked. Gage turned around to look at them, seeing the way Fiona’s face was screwed up in worry and confusion.

“You haven’t been answering any of my calls, Fiona!” Carl said. “What the hell was I supposed to think? I was worried sick, thinking you were in danger somewhere.”

Fiona blew out her breath and nodded slowly. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have called you rather than just texting you back late at night. I just…I didn’t feel like I could talk to you, alright? I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff here.”

Gage stood still, watching their interaction play out before him. He could see the anxiety—and especially the guilt—coming off of Fiona in waves, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It wasn’t like he could come forward and crush Fiona into a hug, not with her fiancé standing right there.

“What kind of stuff could be so important?” Carl said, his voice harsh and sharp. “Really, what is it? Tell me.”

Gage didn’t really care for the edge of condescension in Carl’s voice, and it was clear from the way Fiona shrunk in on herself, curling her arms around her waist, that she felt the same way. “I…the case. There are missing girls here. One of them has been found, and I needed to look after her, to see if she had any information we could use.”

“The missing girls…” Carl trailed off for a minute, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and sighing deeply. “This is about everything that happened to you as a kid, isn’t it?” His voice sounded almost a little sarcastic, a little too close to mocking for Gage’s taste.

“I…I guess so,” Fiona said, rubbing her elbows with her hands like she was trying to warm herself up. But then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her face to look Carl directly in the eyes. “Yeah. It’s about that. So what?”

“So it’s not good for you, Fiona,” Carl said, stepping forward to close the space between them but not touching her. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t know what the fuck you were thinking. It’s so fucking stupid to be getting involved in something like this after everything you’ve been through.”

“Hey,” Gage said, stepping closer to Carl to get his attention. “Hey, knock it off. Fiona’s been indispensable. We need her on the case.”

“We?” Carl rebutted, putting excess emphasis on the word. “We? Who the fuck is we? Who are you?”

“I’m Gage. Gage Preston. Maybe you’ve heard of me,” Gage said, fighting to keep a scowl off his face.

But a slow, sadistic smile spread across Carl’s face, his eyes narrowing to slits as he stared at Gage. “Oh. You’re Gage, huh?”

“I told you about him,” Fiona said softly. “Gage, Carl. Carl, Gage.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Gage lied. He figured he should have offered his hand forward for an introductory shake, but he couldn’t force himself to do it. He felt the sick, heavy feeling of hatred settle in his stomach, freezing his insides into ice.

“This is the guy, huh? The guy who fucked you up?” Carl asked, his eyes flicking between Gage and Fiona and then back to Gage.

Gage didn’t say anything, even though his hands once again curled into fists. He held them behind his back so the other two people in the room couldn’t see how angry he was. He didn’t want to lose his composure. He didn’t want to give this guy the satisfaction of pissing him off.

“He didn’t do anything,” Fiona argued, her voice coming out soft and low, like she was afraid to speak too loudly. “He’s…he’s just been helping me out, helping me work through my shit. He’s a good guy, Carl.”

Gage’s chest ached a little at that. It hurt, hearing her defend him against this asshole yet sounding so hesitant at the same time. He didn’t know what to think, whether he should feel relieved or offended or angry or grateful. He guessed he felt all of those things in combination.

Carl scoffed loudly, turning to stare at Gage. “I know about you, you know, your obsession with killers, with kidnappers. It’s not good for her. You kept her from moving on, you know.”

That did it. He couldn’t hold himself back, not after that. “What the fuck would you know about it?” Gage challenged, stepping forward until he was standing less than a foot away from Carl. He saw the other man shrink back a little, clearly a little intimidated by Gage despite his anger. Gage couldn’t help but feel pleased by that, knowing that he scared the little man. “Have you ever had a little sister raped and killed? Have you ever lost someone like that? What the fuck do you know?”

Carl’s jaw visibly clenched, his throat working as he swallowed, preparing a retort to Gage’s indignation. “You’re unhealthy. For whatever reason, whatever excuse you have, it’s the truth. You’re obsessed with this shit, and it’s infecting Fiona. Back home, with me, she’s fine. She’s normal. She’s not broken. She’s fine.”

“And why do you think that?” Gage asked. “Because back home she does whatever you say? Because she doesn’t cause you any problems? You only accept her when she’s not causing you any trouble, when she’s being ‘good?’ You know who that reminds me of?” The killer, Gage thought. Abby’s killer. Fiona’s torturer. Telling them what to do, controlling them.

“Stop!” Fiona yelled, stepping in between them and putting a hand on Gage’s chest, gently pushing him away. “Stop it. Don’t say that. That’s not right, and you know it.”

Gage knew she was right. It wasn’t fair to compare a vaguely controlling boyfriend to her abuser and kidnapper, but he was just so mad at the idea of anyone bossing Fiona around. She, more than anyone, deserved to be free. He melted beneath Fiona’s touch, though, nodding at her. “I’m sorry,” he said, ignoring the twinge of pain that bloomed up in his chest as a result of his words.

Fiona shook her head at him and turned to Carl. “Come on. Come on, let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Like fuck I shouldn’t,” Carl said, but he began walking backwards when Fiona pressed her hand against his chest, disappearing from the kitchen and out into the main barroom at the front of the compound.

Fiona turned and nodded at Gage for a second before following her fiancé out into the other room. Once she was out of visible range, Gage heard her yell, “What the fuck? What the fuck were you thinking coming here?” He could tell from her voice that she was absolutely infuriated, but somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better. He didn’t want her upset, even if the target in question was that fuck-wad she called a potential spouse.

Several moments later, after Fiona moved out of hearing distance, Gage finally noticed that Cash was still standing in a corner of the kitchen, his mouth twisted up in a grimace. Gage hadn’t noticed his presence before, but he must have been standing there in the room the whole time, watching the bitter scene unfold.

“Shit, man. That fucking sucks,” Cash said, bending over to get a bottle of whiskey out of one of the lower cabinets before walking over to pour Gage a drink.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair to say,” Gage said, not looking the other man in the eye as he brought the shot glass up to his lips, downing it in one toss to feel the deep burn of the alcohol rest at the bottom of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten all day, so he knew he was going to feel the effects of the booze sooner rather than later. Good, he thought. I need to be fucked-up. He offered his glass forward so Cash could pour him another round.

“Women, huh?” Cash remarked, filling up another glass with the whiskey so he could perform a toast of commiseration with Gage.

Gage nodded, even though he wasn’t really listening or comprehending Cash’s words. He downed his next shot, suppressing a gag at the thick taste that filled his mouth. “I just can’t fucking win,” he said, talking more to himself than to his friend.

“I know that feeling, buddy,” Cash said. “Here, why don’t you let me fix you up some of my choice meat? I got some recent cuts in, just for the two of us. It’ll take your mind off this shit, I promise you.”

“Sure, whatever,” Gage mumbled, reaching forward to pour himself another shot, trying to get inebriated as quickly as possible.

Cash opened up the refrigerator, pulling out huge chunks of thick red meat and slapping them down into a skillet, frying up the meat on such a high heat setting that smoke wafted up into the air, irritating Gage’s sensitive nose. “Jesus, what kind of meat is that?” he asked, causing Cash to smile and shake his head.

“Secret ingredient,” Cash said. “It’s just steak, but I season it with a special kind of blood. Makes it taste better.”

“Don’t tell me it’s like dog blood or something like that,” Gage said. “Don’t ruin your cooking for me, man.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Cash said with a laugh as he flipped the meat around in the skillet, making sure all sides of it were properly browned.

“I just don’t understand,” Gage said softly, picturing the way Fiona’s face fell, practically falling to pieces under Carl’s criticism. “I mean….that’s not right, actually. I think I do understand. That might be the worst part.”

“What do you mean?” Cash asked over his shoulder, focusing on flipping the meat over and tossing seasoning into the mix for flavor.

“It just makes too much sense,” Gage said, reaching forward to pour himself another shot, even though he was pretty sure he was starting to get a little buzzed off the alcohol already in his system.

“It does?” Cash prompted him after another full minute of silence.

“Yeah,” Gage said, feeling his head grow fuzzy and warm as the booze took greater effect within his body. “She doesn’t want to be who she is. I should have known better. I always thought, well, one day, she’ll be able to accept herself, you know? Really accept herself with everything that happened and know that it’s okay to be her. Because I loved her, just the way she was. I didn’t want to her change. I didn’t want her to deny her past. But this guy…he hates her past as much as she does. He doesn’t want her to be a survivor. He doesn’t want her to continue to be affected by all that shit. He just wants her to move on and leave it all behind, as if that’s fucking possible.” Gage paused to scoff at himself, feeling about as low as he had in over fifteen years, since Abby left him. “No, I guess I wouldn’t know, right? Just because I haven’t been able to fucking heal and get over shit like a man, it doesn’t mean that she can’t. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m just…selfish. Maybe that’s it. I’m just selfish. I’m just fucked-up, and I want her to stay fucked-up so she can be with me, so I don’t have to be alone. How shitty is that?”

Cash switched off the stove and flipped the steak slices onto a plate, spraying them with salt and pepper before getting salad ingredients out of the refrigerator to make as a side item for their meal. “I don’t know, man. It sounds like she’s just stupid. Not seeing what’s in front of her. Most women are like that.”

Gage didn’t know about that, but he didn’t have enough energy to argue about it at the moment. “I love her, you know,” Gage murmured, getting himself yet another shot, even though he was feeling a bit unsteady, his otherwise empty stomach roiling around its new liquid contents.

“Mmm,” Cash mumbled, putting two plates down on the countertop and pulling up another chair to sit down next to Gage. “Dig in. You need to eat. Get your strength, at least, if you’re going to fight for her.”

Gage laughed humorlessly, leaning his head in his hands while he dug his fork into the meat on his plate, stabbing into it as if it were responsible for his pain. “I can’t fight for her,” he murmured, sipping at his drink. “It’s got to be her decision. That’s the whole point. She’s got to choose her own life. If she can’t have that…” If she couldn’t have that, she wouldn’t be free from the worst thing that ever happened to her, not really. And no matter what, Gage would fight for that, for Fiona’s ability to feel like she was in control of her own life. He couldn’t take that from her, even if it killed him not to.

“She sounds like a fucking bitch, if I’m being honest with you,” Cash said between swallows of steak. “I mean, I don’t know her. I wouldn’t really know. But I think I’ve known quite a few women like her.”

“You haven’t,” Gage said sharply, feeling anger surge up inside of him. “You’ve never known anyone like her.”

“Fair enough,” Cash said, putting his hands up in the air as if he was declaring defeat. “I don’t know her. You’re right. But I just don’t like seeing you upset, man. I haven’t seen you like this the whole time I’ve known you.”

Gage shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The implication behind Cash’s words was clear—this was Fiona’s fault, yet Gage was paying the price. “Whatever,” he muttered, finally bringing a piece of the steak to his mouth, practically moaning out loud at the sweet yet salty taste of the meat. “Jesus, what’s in this shit? Crack?”

“Something like that,” Cash said with a laugh, shaking his head. “No, just my secret stuff. I’ve been out of work for a while, you know. Got to get back into making food for real people.”

“Real people? As opposed to what? MC people?” Gage said with a knowing smile. He knew what Cash meant, though. It was weird sometimes, the way the MC lived apart from the rest of the world.

Cash just shrugged. “Tell me more about your relationship drama. I need something to entertain me.”

“Not sure there’s much else to say,” Gage said as he began to eat more quickly, shoving meat in his mouth to fill his unsteady stomach. “She left me. She picked somebody else. She’s moved on. That’s good for her, right? I should just be happy, instead of whining about it like a little bitch.”

“Nah, come on. You love her, right? You should fight for her, man! Don’t give up that easily. She’s got to know what a catch you are.”

Gage shook his head. “It’s not about that. I got to respect her. That’s the thing that I think was holding us back all these years. She didn’t feel like I listened to her when she used to talk about how she wanted to leave all this investigation shit behind. He lets her be someone she can stand to live with. That’s got to be worth more than love,” Gage said sadly, finishing his last drink before hurriedly shoving the rest of his food into his mouth.

Cash was silent for a minute, just staring at him. “I know what you mean, but still, Gage. You got to at least try, otherwise, you might regret it forever.”

Gage shook his head. “I can’t, man. I can’t risk overwhelming her. She might never talk to me again.”

“Would she really act that way?” Cash asked. “If so, she’s a bigger bitch than I even thought.”

“Alright, stop it. Stop that shit. I can’t have you talking about her that way, Cash,” Gage said as he cleaned off his plate, taking it over to the sink to dump it in with the rest of the MC’s dirty dishes.

Cash put his hands up in the air, again in surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it. Just…give it a shot, okay? You can’t ruin something if there’s already no chance, and if there is a shot, you’re not going to fuck it up by just trying. That’s all I’m saying. And anyway, most women are…well, you know my opinion on them. When you find a good one, you’ve got to treasure her. You’ve got to fight for her. Don’t just let her out of your grasp.” Cash got up and walked over to Gage. “Or, hell, if you’re really that hung up over her and feeling that hopeless, let’s take your mind off it, huh? Let’s go out! Get some drinks, maybe meet some women and see what happens?”

Gage forced a smile but shook his head. “I can’t. I’m still on the case. The missing girls, remember? I got to keep working on it as long as there’s a girl missing. She’s still in danger.”

“Ah, come on, man, you can take one night off,” Cash argued.

“No, I really can’t,” Gage said, even though he already felt so woozy from the booze that he knew it was likely he was just going to go home and crash. “I got to go. See you later, bud.”

He staggered to his feet and walked out into the main room, ignoring the several people who called out to him, trying to get him to join their various celebrations, as he headed out back into the cold night. As Gage walked back to the subway stop, he couldn’t help but feel a weird paranoid sensation climbing up his back, his hairs standing on edge like someone was watching him or following him. Every time he turned around, he couldn’t spot anything, but he still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something wasn’t right.

When he collapsed into bed a half hour later, he could still smell the distinct scent of Fiona’s body. It smelled like home. It smelled like loss. It smelled like love. It smelled like everything he’d never get to touch ever again.