TORTURE ME: The Bandits MC

by Leah Wilde

  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.

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time Fiona and Carl made it back to his hotel room, she was pretty fucking furious, to put it lightly. She’d stayed silent on the car ride over, letting the emotions simmer inside her, trying to keep them locked inside, as deep as possible. But as soon as they stepped into a private place, she could feel them rise to the surface like a soufflé, spilling over until she just clenched her fists, standing across the room from Carl and staring at him with fire burning in her eyes.

  “What?” he barked at her, obviously aware that she wasn’t happy with him, to say the least.

  “You know what,” Fiona said, hardening her tone as much as she could, even if some small part of her still trembled in fear at the idea of confronting this man. She’d worked so hard to hide all the bad sides of herself from him. She’d tried so hard to keep him from knowing all the dirty parts of her. But for now, she couldn’t hold it back. Maybe it was working on the case, maybe it was being back in the city. Or maybe it was being around Gage again, letting his own fire influence her to wake up inside, to fight back. She’d have to analyze herself more later on, but for now, she crossed her arms across her chest, gritting her teeth and hardening her jaw as she stared across the room at Carl.

  “No, let’s talk about it. Let’s be healthy about this,” Carl said. Fiona barely kept herself from flinching as a result of the “h-word,” as she referred to it inside her head. It was like a bomb waiting to go off at any moment, an accusation wrapped up in pretty paper. The implication was clear to her. She wasn’t healthy. She wasn’t normal. She wasn’t right. She knew all this about herself, and she really didn’t need Carl telling her what she already hated about the way she functioned. “What’d I do wrong, exactly?” Carl asked.

  Fiona sighed and pushed her hair back from her forehead, yanking a little at the roots, using the pain to anchor herself to her body. She couldn’t afford to dissociate at the moment, not when Carl was poised for the attack. “You’re acting like you own me or something, like you get to tell me what to do, what to feel, how to react. The whole reason…” She huffed her breath out again, summoning up the courage to finish her sentence. “The whole reason I started dating you was because you weren’t like this. You don’t control me. You let me live how I want. Why are you changing now?”

  “Oh, that’s rich. That’s fucking rich,” Carl said, beginning to pace back and forth across the hotel room, shaking his head at her. “You come here and play nicey-nice with your ex and I’m the bad guy? What the fucking shit is wrong with your brain, Fiona, huh? What the hell went wrong that wired you to act this way? Because I’ll tell you what, it’s not normal. It’s not healthy. It’s not what I proposed to.”

  “I don’t care if it’s what you proposed to or not,” Fiona said, even though a little part of that statement was a lie. “It’s who I am, who I really am, when I’m not pretending to be a good girl.” The last two words stung her tongue, making her feel sick inside, like all of her organs were balling up, shrinking away from what she’d just said. The kidnapper’s words, haunting her like she was still tied up in that basement.

  “What the fuck are you even talking about?” Carl retorted, his face screwing up in confusion. He stepped forward, grabbing Fiona’s shoulders and shaking her a little bit. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? What the hell happened to you to make you this way?”

  “You know the answer to that,” Fiona whispered, feeling the shameful burn of tears begin to press at the backs of her eyes.

  “Oh, please, don’t pull that card,” Carl said, shaking his head at her. “You can’t just use that as an excuse every time we get into an argument!”

  “It’s not an excuse!” Fiona yelled. “It’s not a fucking excuse! It’s my fucking life!” Humiliatingly, she felt tears pool into her eyes, but she blinked them back, hopefully before Carl could see them. “It’s a part of me, Carl! A huge fucking part that will never go away no matter how hard you pretend otherwise.”

  “Oh, I can’t deal with you right now. You’re being ridiculous,” Carl said, rolling his eyes.

  Fiona shook her head at him. “Yeah? You can’t deal? Well, deal with this,” she challenged as she turned out her heel, heading for the door.

  “Where are you going? Come back here! Don’t leave this hotel room, Fiona!”

  “I don’t want to deal with you right now,” Fiona said, continuing to walk towards the door.

  “Stop, Fiona! Stop walking right now. Don’t you dare walk out that door.” Fiona paused for a minute, her hand on the knob of the door. “You’re going to him, aren’t you? To Gage?”

  “I don’t know where I’m going,” Fiona answered honestly, with her back still turned to Carl.

  “You better not, Fiona. You better not see him ev
er again. You listening to me? I don’t want you working on that case. I don’t want you seeing him. He’s bad for you, you hear me? He’s fucking you up. He’s making you sick,” he said.

  Fiona scoffed, even though the words stung her like a shot to the back. “Whatever,” she muttered, opening the door and setting off down the highway at a brisk pace.

  By the time she reached the elevator and got down to the first level of the hotel, her phone rang, making her jump. She didn’t know why she was so on edge, exactly, but she was exhausted of her own weakness. If there was ever a time that she needed to be strong, it was now.

  She pulled out her phone. It was Gage.

  “Hello?” she answered into the phone as she walked out into the bitterly cold night, hugging her sweater closer to her chest to preserve as much of her body’s warmth as possible.

  “Fiona,” Gage half-slurred into her ear. “Fiona, I need you.”