TORTURE ME_ The Bandits MC(24)

But no matter how hard Fiona repeated those words to herself, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. Something’s always off with me, Fiona thought to herself as she accepted another shot of whiskey from one of the MC members. Nothing will ever be normal for me again. Ever.



In her mind, she tried to argue with herself, even as she took the shot, feeling herself grow drunker and drunker as the minutes passed by. I’m not broken, she tried to think to herself. I’m not broken. I’m okay. I’m normal. I’m a normal woman.



But Fiona was never a very good liar.





Chapter Seven




Gage woke up early the next morning, stretching hard to pop the tension out of his worn-out muscles. He’d overdone it at the gym the morning before, putting in a last-ditch effort to get his abs in peak shape before Fiona got here. He knew it was stupid. Chances were, she wasn’t even going to see his bare chest and stomach while she stayed in the city. But he had to try.



Maybe I’ll make her see them, he thought as he slipped out of bed and put on a pair of sweatpants. He grinned mischievously to himself as he walked into his bathroom to brush his hair. He’d just walk around without a shirt on. That way, Fiona wouldn’t have a choice. She’d have to see how good he looked nowadays.



When he stepped out into the living room/kitchen area, however, Fiona was nowhere to be found. She must still be sleeping, Gage thought as he walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. But first, he pulled out his phone to check his e-mail. Sometimes he got frantic requests for his P.I. work overnight. But right at the top of his inbox was a message from Jack, who’d managed to get ahold of Tori’s text messages and call records within twelve hours.



Gage knew Fiona would want to see this right away, so he walked back over to the hallway to knock lightly on her door. “Fiona? I’ve got some good news,” he called out.



The door swung open, revealing an exhausted-looking Fiona, whose jaw fell open as soon as she got a good look at Gage in his shirtless state.



A second later, Fiona went pale, like she’d just seen a ghost. “Um, I…hi, good morning, hi,” she stuttered out, her eyes drifting up and down his body.



Gage struggled to suppress a self-satisfied smirk. She still wants me, he thought. Even if it’s just physically, she wants me. “Good morning to you, too,” he said, putting one hand up on the frame of the door to flex his abdominal muscles even more. “Tori’s phone records. We’ve got them.”



Fiona’s eyes widened, and she immediately stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. “Let me see them,” she demanded.



Gage wordlessly handed his phone over to her before he remembered that the screen automatically locked after a minute of inactivity. “The access code is…”



“I remember it,” Fiona said quickly, dragging her finger down the front of his phone screen to open up the right e-mail. “Let’s comb through these.”



“You start,” Gage said. “I’ll make breakfast.” He knew Fiona would have better insight into what was relevant and what wasn’t worth their time. After all, between the two of them, only Fiona had ever been a teenage girl.



Fiona didn’t answer him, already completely wrapped up in Tori’s virtual life. Gage set about scrambling some eggs and making a few slices of French toast for them. They worked in silence, Fiona studying up while Gage cooked, and Gage couldn’t help but feel…relieved at how comfortable it felt, how familiar. They used to do this all the time, back in the day. He’d cook while her thoughts stewed. He’d take care of her while she took care of the case. They were a great team. Gage had to swallow to clear the lump in this throat that popped up just thinking about it. He missed this. So much.



Once he finished fixing up breakfast, he brought two plates full of food to the table, where Fiona sat thumbing through the phone records with her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed practically to slits. “Got anything yet?” Gage asked as he sat down across from Fiona.



“Not sure,” Fiona murmured, not looking up from the phone. “She…she had a flirtation or a…short-lived relationship that didn’t appear in the diary. His name is Chad, Chad Doherty. She talks about how annoying he became, bothering her when she decided she didn’t want to date him anymore.”



“That’s suspicious,” Gage said, beginning to dig into his eggs. “Most women are killed or abused by intimate partners.” Fiona nodded in response, and then they fell into silence for several long moments before Fiona finally spoke again.