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.”