by Leah Wilde
Take off your clothes and join me, Fiona had thought to herself, sticking her chest out and sucking her stomach in to present the best possible view of her body. Join me, join me, join me. I’ve missed you.
Now, freezing under the relentless streams of water, she tried to push back against those thoughts, arguing with them until they shut up. I don’t want him. I don’t miss him. I don’t want to cheat on Carl. I’m a good girlfriend. A good fiancée. I will be a good wife. I don’t want to cheat. I don’t want to do that to him. I’m a good person. Right?
But even as she trembled under the cold water, she knew the answer wasn’t as reassuring as she’d hoped it would be. She was dirty. She was slutty. She wanted to have sex with Gage, right here, right now. Her body still ached for it, like she’d crumble in a million pieces if he didn’t touch her.
Well, too bad, she told herself as she shut the water off and reached for a towel. You don’t get to have what you want. You don’t get to cheat on Carl. You don’t get to be the shitty person that you really are underneath it all.
She tentatively opened the bathroom door to reveal that the bedroom was empty. Gage must have gone out into the living room/kitchen area. Fiona swallowed around the lump in her throat, willing her heart rate to calm down as she slipped into a dress and a pair of leggings. For good measure, she went ahead and put her sweater on as well, wanting to be as fully clothed as possible. She needed to make a statement. She needed to make it clear that she didn’t want him to see her undressed, not anymore, even if that wasn’t exactly the truth.
Fiona stepped out into the living room, keeping her arms crossed to cover up any potential cleavage as she walked towards Gage, who was sitting at the kitchen table with his head bowed.
“So, what the fuck?” Fiona said, choosing to stand off to the side rather than sit at the table across from Gage.
“I know,” Gage said. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you? Are you really? How long were you standing there?” Fiona asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. She had to make it seem like she hadn’t noticed him until the very last second.
“Just a few seconds,” Gage said, but he sighed deeply when Fiona glared at him, keenly aware that it was a lie. “Okay, like a minute. I stood there for a minute. I’m sorry. I just…I wasn’t thinking. Okay? That’s all it was. I was staring out in space, trying to remember what the fuck I came into your room to ask you.”
Fiona felt a little pang of disappointment at his words. Was he really just “staring off into space?” Maybe he hadn’t been ogling her at all. Maybe it was just Fiona who’d been unscrupulously horny. The mere idea sent another wave of guilt crashing over her, making her feel a little light-headed as she stood over Gage.
Gage didn’t wait for her to reply before he spoke again. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise you that.”
Fiona slowly walked over to the seat across from Gage, sitting down to stare directly into his face. “It shouldn’t have happened,” she whispered, more to herself than to her ex.
“I agree,” Gage replied before sighing deeply, sounding about as defeated as she’d ever heard him. In the past, she would have been tempted to comfort him, to reach out and wrap her arms around him until all of the negative energy abandoned his body. But she couldn’t do that anymore. Not after everything. Not after Carl. Fiona stared down at her own lap, clasping her hands together tightly, holding onto herself like she was about to slip away. The guilt burned inside of her like an endless flame, turning her stomach lining into ash. How could she forgive herself for this when she wasn’t even really sorry?
# # #
He wasn’t sorry, honestly. Not really. It had been an accident, after all, but that was beside the point. Despite everything, despite the very real, very terrifying possibility that Fiona might leave early as a result of this incident, there was another part of him that was elated, filled up with happiness like a balloon. As scared as he was, with his heart pounding in his ears like a drum, he also had to fight off a smile. He saw Fiona’s body, for the first time in over a year, and she was still every bit as beautiful, every bit as sexy and irresistible as she’d ever been.
But he knew he had to apologize, if only to get her to stay. He’d do anything to make sure she stayed as long as possible, helping him with the case. But it’s not just the case, he thought to himself. It’s not about Tori. It’s about you. You want her to stay because…because of your feelings for her. Don’t pretend it’s anything noble.
It was true. With Fiona around, he felt like he could breathe for the first time in a year. It was like she was his air supply, the one thing he needed to feel alive. He couldn’t let her go.
Right then and there, staring down at his own lap, Gage made a decision. He wasn’t going to let Fiona go back to the countryside without a fight. He’d wage war for her if he had to do it. He wasn’t going to lose her again. But he had to be careful about it, otherwise he might scare her off.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You have my word that I’ll respect your boundaries. I promise.”
“Okay,” Fiona said a moment later in a low voice. “Alright. Just…let’s pretend that it never happened.”
Her words hurt. Gage couldn’t deny that. It stung, knowing that if Fiona had a choice, she’d prefer to forget about him. He wondered if she ever thought about them, about the days when they were happier, about the nights where’d they fuck over and over and over again, feeding on each other’s bodies like they were starving. Gage could never forget those times. He knew he’d remember them as long as he’d lived, no matter what happened. Would Fiona?
Fiona grabbed a newspaper from the pile of mail that Gage had brought in only a few minutes earlier and began flipping through the pages. Gage finally saw his phone at the other end of the table, so he reached forward to grab it and send Jack a quick message to thank him for his help.
Without any warning, Fiona leapt up from her seat like she’d been burned. “What? What is it?” Gage asked, getting out of his chair and walking around the table to put a hand on her shoulder in case she was having another panic attack.
“She’s dead,” Fiona said brokenly. “The girl, the missing girl, the one taken before Tori—she’s dead. The newspaper says so.” She flung the paper down on the table, knocking Gage’s phone aside in the process. “Sorry,” Fiona mumbled, but he could tell that she didn’t mean it.
It wasn’t front page news. That’s why Gage hadn’t noticed it when he got the mail that morning. It was stuck in the middle of the paper, next to random news pieces about school district changes and garbage collection problems. There she was, the missing girl, the one taken by The Knife, stuck in between stories that didn’t matter. The city didn’t care all that much about what was going on to these girls, not really. It felt like it was just Gage and Fiona, the two of them against the world. Just like the old days.
There was a picture of the girl on the side of the article. Apparently, her parents’ commitment to anonymity faded away after death. She was a beautiful brown girl with a beaming smile and big, dark eyes that shone even in the black-and-white of the newspaper print. “Goddammit,” Gage muttered.
Fiona was panting like she’d just finished a long run. “What are we going to do? What are we going to do, Gage? Tori’s next.”
“I know, I know,” Gage murmured, staring down at the dead girl. “We’ve gotta get the crime scene photos, to start with. Maybe we’ll be able to see if there’s anything different this time. But before we can get our hands on those, we’ve got to go interview the suspects. It’s the only way to narrow the list down.”
Fiona pursed her lips a little, clearly unhappy with that proposition. “What if we’re just wasting our time? What if it’s some random person with no known connection to any of the girls and we’re just floundering around while the real killer cuts Tori up into pieces—” Fiona cut herself off, pressing her hand against her forehead as if she could physically make
the bad thoughts stop. Gage knew from experience that it didn’t work that way, unfortunately.
“I don’t know,” Gage answered honestly. “I don’t know if we’re wasting our time or not. But it’s all we’ve got to go on. I’ll make a call to my connection within the police department. He’s not very helpful, but he’ll fax over copies of the crime scene photos in a few hours if he gets the chance. In the meantime, we’ve got to look at the suspects. Otherwise, we’re just sitting here waiting for Tori to be killed.”
Fiona nodded slowly, still staring at the ground rather than looking across at Gage. Even still, he could see the sadness in her eyes, the deep resignation. He knew what she was thinking. What if she’s already dead? It was a real possibility, and Gage couldn’t deny that. Still, he had to say something to give Fiona some hope. Without hope, they weren’t ever going to save anyone. “We have to fight for her,” Gage said softly, stepping closer to Fiona and reaching down to grab her hand. For once, Fiona didn’t pull away. She let him take her hand into his, rubbing the backs of her knuckles with his thumb. “We can’t give up on her.”
“But what if…” Fiona began to say before letting the sentence hang. Her hand began gripping Gage’s back, so hard that it almost hurt him. But he could handle it. He could take anything Fiona could give him.
“Girls are strong,” Gage said. “Much, much stronger than we think. She’s still got a chance. We can do it. We can help her. I believe in us.”
“Me, too,” she whispered back, so softy that Gage could barely hear it, despite standing right next to her. “I do, too. That’s the scary thing.”
Before Gage had a chance to ask her what she meant, Fiona squeezed his hand a little bit before going limp and pulling out of his grasp. “Come on,” she said, heading toward the front door of his apartment. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Fiona and Gage headed to the mall first to find out if the guy from the sunglasses store was still there. Fiona was practically squirming in her seat on the subway, stuck in a mixture of fear and anticipation. At one point, when she was tapping her feet so loudly that she was attracting the glares of other subway riders, Gage’s hand drifted over to her knee, giving her a reassuring squeeze before pulling back. Fiona felt her entire body flush with heat as a result, but when she turned to look at Gage, he was staring down at his phone rather than looking at her. He was infuriating, really, crossing boundaries again and again yet acting so nonchalant and innocent about it, like he hadn’t done anything.
Fiona had a sneaking suspicion that the apology from before, in the kitchen, wasn’t really genuine. Something just felt…off about it. Gage was never really one to apologize. He’d admit when he was wrong, but he never expected to be forgiven. He never begged for her approval. But now, he seemed like he was desperate for her to believe him, repeating the same apology over and over again. It just came off as false. Fiona knew that she should have been offended, absolutely incensed that he wasn’t even sorry for barging in on her while she was showering. But she wasn’t. It’s at least 50% my fault, she thought. I should have screamed at him to leave the second he walked in. But I didn’t. I’m just as bad. She couldn’t exactly justify hating Gage for it when she had been complicit in the incident.
In the back of her mind, there was a gnawing sensation that grew and grew as they got closer to their destination. Nagging thoughts emerged out of the ether of her brain, telling her, You should leave. You should get out of here. You should run back to the countryside where you’re actually a good woman, where you have morals. Here the truth comes out. Here it becomes clear that you’re made of the same dirty, filthy muck as the rest of this godforsaken city.
But she couldn’t. She didn’t have a choice, not really. As long as Tori was still out there, most likely being held captive by a man who was steadily carving into her, Fiona couldn’t rest. She had to keep going, no matter what the price was. Tori and the other girls, the ones The Knife had killed already, depended on her. Fiona didn’t take that responsibility lightly, to say the least.
“Here we are,” Gage said as the train rolled to their stop, the one close to both the Bandits’ clubhouse and the mall that Tori frequented with her friends.
They had to walk a few blocks before they hit the shopping center, and then it took them a good fifteen or twenty minutes longer to find a sunglasses store, right next to an upscale boutique that marketed itself towards teenagers. This must be the right place, Fiona thought, inhaling deeply to calm down and ready herself to interview suspect number one.
There was a young guy with long, greasy hair and speckles of patchy facial hair all over his chin. Fiona cringed a little as she observed him pick his nose. This was the type of guy that Tori was into? Why did teenage girls always have the worst taste in men?
Gage walked ahead of her, approaching the guy first. “Hello, we’re with the police department,” Gage lied, sounding as convincing as ever. Fiona had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of the kid’s face going sickly pale; he was obviously terrified at the prospect of a potential interrogation. “We just need to ask you a few short questions, no big deal,” Gage said a minute later, probably worried that the kid was going to bolt before they could get any information out of him.
“Um, sure, I’ll try to help you out,” the greasy young man said, chewing anxiously at his upper lip with his bottom teeth.
“Do you know this girl?” Fiona asked, pulling out the picture of Tori from her purse.
The kid squinted at the picture for a long minute. “No, I don’t think…oh, yeah, yes! I remember her!” he said.
“When did you see her last?” Gage asked.
“Oh, probably a couple weeks ago,” the guy said casually, shrugging. “She never used to talk to me much. My coworker, Josh, might know more. He used to…he used to, like, flirt with her and stuff.”
“I see,” Fiona said, stuffing the picture of Tori back into her purse. “Is he working today?”
“No, actually, he quit,” the greasy guy said, turning back to the cash register to check out a young woman who was buying a couple pairs of sunglasses.
“Do you know where we can talk to him?” Gage asked. “We just want to ask him a few questions, see where he last saw that girl, that’s all.” Fiona wondered when Gage got so good at lying. It was hard to keep a smile off her face, just watching him work. She never got tired of seeing this side of him, watching him read people and then tell them exactly what they needed to hear.
“I can give you his number if you want,” the kid said, reaching for his pocket to get out his phone.
“Maybe his address would work better,” Fiona cut in. “We’re kind of in a hurry here. Missing person’s case, you understand.”
The kid hesitated for a second, but then he reached below his counter to get a piece of paper and a pen, scrawling out an address in abominably bad handwriting.
Gage accepted the piece of paper before handing it over to Fiona. The address was out of the city, on the outskirts, deep in the woods. She used to go there, in that general area, when she needed fresh air.
“Thanks,” Fiona said, quickly backing away from the sunglasses store before the kid could ask any more questions. “Let’s go,” she said to Gage.
# # #
It took them roughly an hour to get to the outskirts of the city, taking a cab for the final stretch to reach the area where Josh lived. But they had to get out of the car and walk up a dirt path to find the right house. “Jesus, he must have a long commute,” Fiona commented.
Gage chuckled lightly, but inside, his stomach was churning. He usually didn’t get this nervous, and he didn’t understand why he felt like he was about to throw up. But then it hit him. Fiona. He’d never taken her on a high-stakes assignment like this before. Usually, she did all the brain work, and he did all the footwork.
“You should stay here, outside, where it’s safe,” Gage said as they walked through the tree-line, finally spotting the right house in the dista
nce.
“Like hell,” Fiona responded, scoffing, like his suggestion was absolutely ridiculous.
“Hey, I’m serious,” Gage said, putting a hand on Fiona’s shoulder to prevent her from moving towards Josh’s house. “Things could get dicey. This isn’t a public place. He could react badly.”
“And what, you’re equipped to deal with that and I’m not? Have you forgotten which one of us escaped a mass murderer when she was a goddamn teenager?” Fiona snapped, her voice coming out harsh and loud. A second later, though, she sighed deeply and wiped a few beads of sweat off her forehead. “Sorry. That was mean.”
“No, you’re right; you make a good point,” Gage admitted. Fiona was much stronger than him. He’d never deny that. But she was also much more special, much more precious, and he’d really prefer it if she wouldn’t insist on getting involved in dangerous situations. You would think she’d had enough of that for one lifetime, but apparently not. “Please, can you just…stay here? For me?”
Fiona shook her head, her jaw clenching as she stared back at Gage, glaring at him without blinking. “It’s not going to happen, Gage.”