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“This part right here about the ‘darkness that you can’t escape’ is pretty poetic,” I say with a little smirk. “Maybe you’re in the wrong business. You should stop abducting women from alleys and take up writing full time. It seems like you’d have a lot to pull from for inspiration, judging from what you wrote here.”
That seems to be the last straw. Gage moves forward, marching up to me and yanking the book out of my hand. He crowds into my space, pressing me up against the shelf until the wooden ridges of it dig into my back.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hisses. “So you should shut your mouth.”
He’s so close, but I don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want to know more. Maybe I want to figure out what makes you work, Gage. How you ended up the way you are.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” he snaps.
“Fuck the deal,” I reply. “I’m guessing you used to live in that shithole apartment building you took me to.”
“What?”
“I’m not an idiot. You knew it way too well for it to be somewhere new to you, or somewhere you only go when you need information. Plus, Meredith talked to you like she cared. That shit takes time. What’s up with that?”
“None of your fucking business.”
I can feel the rage pouring off him, but I don’t back down. He’s not going to hurt me—that wouldn’t be in his best interests, considering he needs me alive to kill Ivan—and if he did try to, I could just hurt him back.
So all he can really do is stand there while I push his buttons, getting more and more pissed off with no real outlet for it.
It feels good to be on the instigating end, finally, to be the one doing the pushing instead of getting pushed. And I keep riding the waves of that, leaning into Gage and not letting him get away with his non-answers.
“What was it like?” I press. “Living there? How old were you? Young?”
“Shut up.” His expression closes down some, fury blurring out any other emotion. He’s uncomfortable, but relying on anger to get through it is a tried-and-true method. I know that well myself.
“Why don’t you want to talk about it? You took me there, so it’s not like I don’t know.”
“That was for a purpose,” he spits. “Not for you to go digging around in my life.”
“Oh, it sucks when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” I shoot back. “Maybe I don’t want to let you off the hook that easily.”
“Maybe I don’t give a fuck what you want.”
“Well, that’s obvious. If you did, I wouldn’t be here. You’re holding me hostage in your fucking house, and you won’t even give me anything entertaining to keep myself occupied. Tell me why these books.”
“I’m not telling you anything!” The words rip out of him, and there’s pure rage behind them. His eyes are snapping with it, and he’s practically growling at me.
“Just a little hint?” I ask, putting on a pleading face. “Small one? Were you some kind of nerd in school? You don’t seem like the type.”
Before I can get out another taunt, he grabs my upper arms in a tight grip. I can feel the strength and anger in the press of his fingers, and I know I’ll have marks there later.
I half expect him to shove me forcibly out of the room, but instead, he drops his head and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard enough to bruise.
