Page 37 of Miserable Marionette

Honestly? I don’t know how I stood it before, the way he watches me. Every micro-movement, every chuckle, hiccup, blink. He sees it all, catalogs and maneuvers. Gideon has always been five steps ahead of everyone else in the room, and as a grown man, I think he’s upped the bar to ten. The minutes with him pass like mere seconds. Sitting here in the cramped living room, the furniture is worn and altered, the people even more so, but it’s the same.

It’s home, or at least the ghost of it.

“I still can’t believe you’re a doctor now,” I mumble around a mouth full of fries.

He hikes a brow, his own burger long finished, the trash stuffed neatly inside the takeout bag.

I nearly choke, foregoing chewing and swallowing the rest like a snake. “Not because you weren’t smart enough! Just because, well, I don’t know. You just, I mean, don’t have the best bedside manner—" I take a gulp of sweet tea to clear my throat. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter when the patients are already dead.”

His lips tilt up, just a bit. “I’ve never heard any complaints.”

Gideon told a joke.

And it was… kind of funny.

My smile is too big for my face as I shove what’s left of my food in my bag. I can feel it the moment the tone in the room shifts, the moment my smile falters. When we’ve exhausted all the pleasantries. His work, mine, small-town drama he missed out on. Now only the nasty, painful bits are left. “It feels odd, being here again… with you. Almost like nothing changed, if you don’t focus your eyes and squint a bit.” My heart lets out an ugly little pang as I try to laugh off the stupid joke.

Gideon doesn’t laugh, of course not. “What if nothing did?”

I swear, for a moment, I stop breathing. I don’t know why I expected him to be unserious, to mercifully ignore my blunder. The words swell in my chest with the deep breath I take, but it feels thin. Reality doing what it does best and stripping the situation down to its bare bones. “Everything changed, Gideon. Everything. I’m still so… so pissed that you—"

A large bang sounds from downstairs, metal crashing onto slick tile, and I can’t suppress the scream that leaves my throat. My heart is pounding, eyes wide on Gideon as he casually stands from his place on the couch, raising his hands up as if to placate me. “Stay here, it’s probably just—"

“Yeah, no, it’s getting late, and I think it's best if I head ho—”

“Audrey,” he snaps.

And I flinch.

Actually flinch, my wide eyes now glued to his blue ones framed behind his glasses.

“Stay here, promise me.”

Promise me.

Promise you?! How fucking dare you, you absolute sack of—

“This was a mistake,” I offer casually, no evidence of the absolute word vomit that was about to spew from my mouth. The little ball of festering pain that had begun to pulse in my chest. Another scrape of metal on tile sends a sharp wave of pure fear through me. My head snapping to the door, indignation clear in my voice. “Walk me out.”

“This wasn’t a mistake, just give me a second—"

“I did. I brought you dinner to say thanks for the clock. Not to delve down memory lane.”

“Audrey—"

I grit my teeth, my heart battering my ribs. From fear or from Gideon? Probably both. “Walk me out, please.” My legs are pure jelly when I stand.

Gideon’s steps are sure, calculated, smooth as he moves. His tall frame of lean muscle stalking from the couch to block the doorway leading to the upstairs landing. My eyes fall there, past his turbulent eyes, to the polished wood of the banister.

This is where some kids at school said she did it. Right there in the open like that. Where she let Gideon find her.

I never understood why Dad's friends at the station thought he was with me that night. Why they’d wanted my statement at all. I had been so worried about him, so desperate to just get to him, I hadn’t bothered to correct anyone.

“Why, why should I walk you out?” he demands, taking my attention again.

I stand there, my heart pounding so hard in my ears that it makes a deafening whoosh. “Because your stupid house is haunted, and I don’t want to be here anymore. There are only bad memories here. Even worse feelings.”

Another bang from the basement nearly has me jumping straight out of my skin. I let out a frustrated little growl, stalking toward him, thinking maybe he’ll move before I have a chance to slam straight into his chest.