TORTURE ME_ The Bandits MC(38)

“No,” Gage argued, turning on the couch to face her and look into her eyes. He brought a hand up to cup the side of her face, causing her eyes to slide shut as his thumb rubbed her jawline. “That’s not true. You’re fine, baby. You’re perfect.”



“Then how could I do what I did to those boys today?” Fiona asked, and when Gage looked up into her eyes, he saw that they were full of tears, shining and bright. It hurt so much to see her in pain. Gage felt like a piece of his heart was being slowly ripped away from the center of his chest. “How could I scare them like I did? What’s wrong with me?”



“Nothing,” Gage said. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You were defending yourself and me too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”



“But I was…violent,” Fiona said, struggling on the last word, practically choking on it as she forced it out of her mouth. “I was like…him.”



Him. Her kidnapper. The one who’d taken Fiona and killed Abby. Gage felt like flames burst to life in his belly just thinking about that fucker, the man he hated more than any other person on the face of the planet. He reached forward and grabbed Fiona’s face, holding both sides of her head firmly with his hands. “Fi, listen to me. You’re not like him. You could never be like him. You’re too good. You’re too strong. You could never do anything like that.”



“But what if I do? What if he ruined me forever? I’m evil. I’m sick. I’m…” She paused to suck in air, breathing so deeply and raggedly that Gage was a little worried she was having another panic attack. “I’m not a good person, Gage. I’m not good.”



“Why do you say that?” Gage asked, adjusting on the couch so he could shuffle closer to Fiona’s body. “That’s not true.”



“It is,” Fiona said. “As soon as I come back to the city, I’m…” She trailed off again, shaking her head. “It’s stupid and wrong and fucked-up. I’m not good. I’m not pure or perfect or anything that you think I am. I’ve just lied to you all these years, and you’ve fallen for my act.”



“So, what, you want to hurt people, is that it? That just makes you human. That just makes you normal, Fi,” Gage said.



Fiona didn’t say anything for a long moment, but two tears slipped out of her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, so Gage reached out and wiped them away with his fingertips, gently tracing the outline of her face. Fiona closed her eyes and inhaled shakily before reaching up to pull Gage’s hands away. “Stop,” she murmured.



Gage’s heart fell inside him, but he did what she told him, pulling away until they were no longer touching. They sat like that—separated by mere centimeters that felt like miles—for several long minutes, staring at each other, staring at the emptiness of the room, and staring down at their own laps until Fiona finally broke the silence. “I think the city…I think the city doesn’t agree with me,” she said softly.



“What do you mean?” Gage asked.



Fiona bit down on her lower lip, gnawing at it as if it were a chew toy. “I come back here, and then…I’m back to the person I was.”



Gage didn’t know what to say right away. As far as he could tell, Fiona had always been the same person, the same exact beautiful, complicated, broken, scared, and brave person. But of course, he’d never known her before the incident. Maybe before the kidnapping, before that sick fuck had done so many bad things to her, she was somebody else entirely. “Are you different in the countryside?” he asked.



“Very,” Fiona answered. “Very different.” Gage was tempted to cut in again with more questions, burning with curiosity about this alternate life that Fiona had apparently lived while she was gone, but then she spoke again, unleashing a long stream of words in a rush. “I’m this whole other person out there. I’m nice and polite and kind, and I help people. And I’m normal. I don’t have panic attacks. I don’t freak out on people. I don’t ever do anything like I did today.”



Gage nodded slowly to himself, trying to picture this alternate-universe Fiona. It was hard to conjure up a believable image of the person she was describing. In Gage’s mind, she didn’t even look like Fiona. He wondered if Fiona dressed differently, if she carried herself with less force, less power in the country. “Are you happy?” he asked, thinking out loud.



Fiona shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to him. “I…I don’t know,” she finally said after a short pause. “Yes, I guess so. As happy as I’m capable of being.”