“The missing girls…” Carl trailed off for a minute, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and sighing deeply. “This is about everything that happened to you as a kid, isn’t it?” His voice sounded almost a little sarcastic, a little too close to mocking for Gage’s taste.
“I…I guess so,” Fiona said, rubbing her elbows with her hands like she was trying to warm herself up. But then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her face to look Carl directly in the eyes. “Yeah. It’s about that. So what?”
“So it’s not good for you, Fiona,” Carl said, stepping forward to close the space between them but not touching her. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t know what the fuck you were thinking. It’s so fucking stupid to be getting involved in something like this after everything you’ve been through.”
“Hey,” Gage said, stepping closer to Carl to get his attention. “Hey, knock it off. Fiona’s been indispensable. We need her on the case.”
“We?” Carl rebutted, putting excess emphasis on the word. “We? Who the fuck is we? Who are you?”
“I’m Gage. Gage Preston. Maybe you’ve heard of me,” Gage said, fighting to keep a scowl off his face.
But a slow, sadistic smile spread across Carl’s face, his eyes narrowing to slits as he stared at Gage. “Oh. You’re Gage, huh?”
“I told you about him,” Fiona said softly. “Gage, Carl. Carl, Gage.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Gage lied. He figured he should have offered his hand forward for an introductory shake, but he couldn’t force himself to do it. He felt the sick, heavy feeling of hatred settle in his stomach, freezing his insides into ice.
“This is the guy, huh? The guy who fucked you up?” Carl asked, his eyes flicking between Gage and Fiona and then back to Gage.
Gage didn’t say anything, even though his hands once again curled into fists. He held them behind his back so the other two people in the room couldn’t see how angry he was. He didn’t want to lose his composure. He didn’t want to give this guy the satisfaction of pissing him off.
“He didn’t do anything,” Fiona argued, her voice coming out soft and low, like she was afraid to speak too loudly. “He’s…he’s just been helping me out, helping me work through my shit. He’s a good guy, Carl.”
Gage’s chest ached a little at that. It hurt, hearing her defend him against this asshole yet sounding so hesitant at the same time. He didn’t know what to think, whether he should feel relieved or offended or angry or grateful. He guessed he felt all of those things in combination.
Carl scoffed loudly, turning to stare at Gage. “I know about you, you know, your obsession with killers, with kidnappers. It’s not good for her. You kept her from moving on, you know.”
That did it. He couldn’t hold himself back, not after that. “What the fuck would you know about it?” Gage challenged, stepping forward until he was standing less than a foot away from Carl. He saw the other man shrink back a little, clearly a little intimidated by Gage despite his anger. Gage couldn’t help but feel pleased by that, knowing that he scared the little man. “Have you ever had a little sister raped and killed? Have you ever lost someone like that? What the fuck do you know?”
Carl’s jaw visibly clenched, his throat working as he swallowed, preparing a retort to Gage’s indignation. “You’re unhealthy. For whatever reason, whatever excuse you have, it’s the truth. You’re obsessed with this shit, and it’s infecting Fiona. Back home, with me, she’s fine. She’s normal. She’s not broken. She’s fine.”
“And why do you think that?” Gage asked. “Because back home she does whatever you say? Because she doesn’t cause you any problems? You only accept her when she’s not causing you any trouble, when she’s being ‘good?’ You know who that reminds me of?” The killer, Gage thought. Abby’s killer. Fiona’s torturer. Telling them what to do, controlling them.
“Stop!” Fiona yelled, stepping in between them and putting a hand on Gage’s chest, gently pushing him away. “Stop it. Don’t say that. That’s not right, and you know it.”
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.