Gage’s words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on Fiona like a thick raincloud just waiting to release over her head. She had to swallow a few times to clear her throat, which suddenly clogged up with repulsive emotion that she couldn’t just wish away. She knew the implication behind Gage’s words because he’d said as much when they were having sex. I love you.
It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter if he loved her, if he cherished her, or if he wanted her safe. He didn’t respect her. He didn’t trust her. Neither of them did. Maybe that was the answer to all of Fiona’s problems, choosing neither of them.
The subway rolled to a stop, and they both jumped out of their seats and exited, walking briskly against the chilly weather towards Carl’s upscale hotel.
“So I guess this is it,” Gage said as they approached the entrance.
“Oh, what, you’re not going to walk me up to Carl’s room?” she said a little sarcastically, but at the same time, she felt a sudden twinge of panic at the base of her stomach at the idea of Gage leaving. It wasn’t like she felt less safe without him, necessarily, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the idea that this might be the very last time she ever saw him. The reality of it crashed down on her all at once, sending shaking vibrations throughout her system as she stared hard at Gage, trying to memorize his face. It didn’t matter if she was furious with him. She needed to remember this moment. She needed to remember him, exactly as he was.
Gage shook his head. “I’ve got to go. You were right before. We have to search the compound, top to bottom, until we find something that lets us know who the killer is. It’s got to be a Bandit or someone closely affiliated with the Bandits. We know that much, at least.” He paused and looked away from her, his jaw clenching like he was restraining himself from saying something else. “I’ll…let you know what happens. I’ll just email you or whatever.”
“Okay,” Fiona said, too exhausted at this point to argue with him any further. “Just let me know first, before you tell anybody else.”
“Of course,” Gage said, looking back at her again, his dark eyes bearing deep into hers, shining with an emotion that Fiona recognized but couldn’t name. “Please…stay safe.”
“I will,” Fiona said, nodding a little. “Thank you for…being the person that you are. In case I don’t see you again. I…well, you know the rest.” I loved you, she thought, her heart hanging down low in her chest. I loved you the way the stars love the darkness around them, I loved you the way the ocean loves its floor, the way the grass loves the wind. I loved you, desperately, fiercely. Forever.
“Well. Get inside. Get warm,” Gage said, turning his back on her and walking quickly away.
“Goodbye!” Fiona called after him, but he didn’t answer or slow down. Fiona felt like blood was leaking inside of her, like her organs were coming to pieces but still trapped inside the borders of her body.
Fiona turned and walked into the hotel, striding through the lobby and walking up the stairs to Carl’s room. The door was unlocked when she got there, and he was waiting for her, sitting on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. Tension and anticipation and anger were coming off of him in waves that hit Fiona as soon as she entered the room. Clearly he wasn’t happy with her. Well, Fiona had bigger problems to deal with at the moment anyway.
“Where have you been?” Carl asked softly. That wasn’t a good sign. When he was restrained and held-back, it just meant a storm was brewing. He was about to unleash on her. Fiona sighed deeply, preparing herself for the onslaught of judgment that was sure to come from Carl’s lips mere moments later.
“You know where I’ve been,” she said with a shrug, acting as unperturbed as possible. She didn’t want to get on the defensive, as that would imply that she did something wrong, and at least this time, she hadn’t. She didn’t leave Carl at the hotel to sleep with Gage. It was all about the girls, and she refused to feel guilty about that.
“So you went out with your ex again, huh?” Carl challenged, but it didn’t really sound like a question, so Fiona didn’t dignify it with an answer. “So what’s the excuse this time? More murder stuff? More danger that you don’t need to get involved in?”
Fiona shook her head and turned to stare at the television against the wall, not really appreciating the condescending tone that Carl was using with her. Usually he was calm, even when he was being judgmental and cruel. But now he seemed on-edge, as though all of his hackles were raised, poised for an attack. Fiona wished she could say that she had enough sense to be scared like she usually did when men got angry with her, but for now, all of her emotions were wiped free, replaced with empty apathy. “I don’t know why you don’t respect my job, but whatever,” she mumbled.