Make It Stop (West Pine Bullies #2)

Chapter 1

always the villain

Elias

"Where are you going?" Dax asks, his tone flat as he slurs his words.

I've been trying to get out of the house undetected all day, but he's been right here by the door, drinking, since he woke up this afternoon.

He's gone out every night this week, even missing our gym sessions, and I thought for sure if I waited him out, he'd either head to a bar or pass the fuck out. Of course, I didn't get that lucky.

And I can't wait anymore. I can't pace my fucking bedroom any fucking longer.

It's been two weeks since I've seen Saige—since she woke up in the hospital and screamed until they removed me from her room—which, apparently, is enough time for me to have cycled through being pissed the fuck off at everyone involved and back to just missing her.

Nolan is the only person she'll speak to; he says she's doing okay and might come back to campus tomorrow.

I just need to talk to her. I need her to listen to me about that video. I need her to understand why I did the things I did. I saved her life—again. She owes me that much.

"Just out," I lie.

"Cool. Let me grab my shoes."

"Um, it's just—"

"Just what? That you're fucking lying? You're going to see Saige, aren't you?"

"I'm going home, yeah."

"I'll go, too."

"Man, I…" On second thought, fuck this. "You know what? No. You can't come."

"Fuck you, Elias. Sincerely, from the bottom of my fucking heart, fuck you."

"Look, she doesn't want to see either of us, but I live there, so I get to go anyway, and you don't. That's just how it is."

"She doesn't want to see me because of you—because of things you did. It's not fucking fair."

I don't think that's entirely true. Saige spent most of that night crying in her room, and it wasn't because of anything I did.

And he must feel bad about whatever happened between them, because I've never seen him act like this.

I thought it might be amusing to see what Dax would do if Saige grew a fucking spine and decided she was done with him—that it would be an ego hit he wouldn't tolerate well, and it'd be interesting to watch what he did next.

But what I've seen for the past week doesn't look like an ego hit, and it hasn't been fun to watch at all. It's been…unsettling. I think he slept in her room last night.

I do feel partially responsible; maybe I planted a seed in her mind, and I'd feel bad about it if it weren't for the fact that this was going to have to happen, eventually.

Saige is mine. He'll get that. It's just the novelty of the feeling that's giving him trouble.

But she was mine first, and she'll be mine last. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her pussy wrapped around my dick, and I don't care what I have to do to get there again.

"Doesn't matter if it's fair," I tell him before grabbing Arcadia's leash and heading out the front door.

"Fuck you! You're a fucking asshole, Elias," he says just before it closes behind me.

I shake my head as I walk down the sidewalk toward my car. If he needs to get it out of his system, he can call me names all fucking day. And he's right; I am an asshole. It doesn't change anything, though.

The drive back to Aurora Cove is dark and rainy, as it has been for the vast majority of the past two weeks.

The closer I get, the more I realize I have no idea how the fuck to act in front of our parents.

They were shocked enough when they found me at the hospital, and I explained I'd just happened to be the person who was there when the abduction attempt occurred.

And to make it worse, that guy's still out there.

In fact, they've found no evidence that he was ever there at all, except for mine and Saige's eyewitness accounts, and she has a severe head injury.

Whoever it was knew how to avoid the campus security cameras, and somehow, they only found my own and Saige's blood on my hands and in the alley, which is baffling, considering I know I busted that fucker's face.

I blame the bitch-ass mask.

So, I wasn't too surprised when the police showed up at our door again yesterday, just to double-check a few things. Pissed the fuck off—yes—but not surprised.

I told them the same fucking thing I told them that night. Yes, he had a gun, but he didn't see me coming; I caught him off guard with that first hit, and he fumbled it.

We struggled for a while before he grabbed the weapon and jumped back into the van. No, I don't know why he didn't just shoot me. I guess because he didn't want to shoot me; he just wanted to take Saige.

No, I don't have any idea who would want to do this to her or why.

That last part isn't exactly true, but it's not like I'm going to tell them it might have something to do with the fucking clown we threw off a cliff at the start of the semester. Besides, I'm not sure it does; I don't know how anyone else could have found out.

And Saige refuses to tell the police who's in the video. All she's told them is that she knows they aren't the person who attacked her.

I'm not sure why she's protecting me.

I grab Arcadia's leash and walk up to the porch, slipping off my muddy boots and wiping her paws on the doormat. At the very least, Saige will be happy to see the dog.

I'm met with warmth and the smell of pastries when I step inside, the home dimly lit and a fire going in the living room. I hang my coat and Arcadia's leash by the front door and then turn, finding myself face-to-face with my dad.

"You haven't returned my calls," he says. "I told you it was important."

"Yeah, I've been busy. Sorry."

"Well, what the hell are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? This is still my house, is it not?"

He lowers his voice, his jaw tense. The dude's almost as big as I am, and I'm sure other people find him intimidating as fuck, but not me. "That video that went out to everyone on campus—it went to me and her mother, too. But I think you know that, don't you?"

I shrug. "How the fuck would I know that?"

"I helped you move into that room," he says. "I know what it looks like. How could you hate her that much?"

Jesus Christ. I rake my fingers through my hair, my tone a harsh whisper. "I didn't send that fucking video. I didn't even take that fucking video, okay?"

He shakes his head. "You're lying," he says. "You make me sick, you know that? It makes me physically ill to think about the way you've treated that girl."

I scoff. "Yeah, well, I don't really think you're in the position to give me a fucking morality speech."

"I cheated; I take full responsibility for that. But you're abusive. You hurt women—"

"I don't—"

"Shut up. I'm not finished. I made light of your behavior and the way you treated my wife and daughter because I thought it was my fault, and I thought it would stop when you graduated, but I was wrong.

I've enabled you, and I'm not going to do it anymore.

I haven't told Carrie about the video because I don't want her to hurt more than she already is, but I better not find out you had anything to do with what happened to Saige. If you did, I won't help you."

"You really have no fucking idea what you're talking about." I push past him, scanning the first floor. "Are you throwing me out or what? I had a few drinks downtown; I don't really think I should drive back."

I'm fucking lying, but I know it's a soft spot for him. He won't make me get back in the car if he thinks I'm drunk, and it's too far for him to drive me himself.

"I don't want to make a scene," he says. "But you better not give me a reason to."

That's what I thought—all fucking talk. But he is wrong. I'm not here to hurt Saige; I love Saige.

Carrie sits in the sunroom with a book in her lap, but I don't see Saige—not until I'm halfway up the staircase.

The object of my obsession stands in the kitchen, wearing flannel pajama pants and a band tee, her hair pulled up in a bun.

The skin around her jaw still has a yellow hue to it, and she looks tired—thinner than usual, too.

She leans down and scratches behind Arcadia's ears, kissing her head before our eyes meet.

Her expression drops, and she gives me her back, leaning against the island.

I hate it. I hate the way she looks at me now—it's not even fear or resentment like it was before. It's more like resignation…or defeat. It's the same way she looked at me when I climbed through her window the day after Halloween, and she told me I'd won.

I thought I'd like to see what Saige looked like when there wasn't an ounce of fight left in her body, but I was wrong about that, too. I miss the fire. It's not as fun to bring her to her knees when she's already there.

"Please leave me alone," she says as I approach her.

"I can't." I wrap my arms around her from behind, holding her against my chest. "I miss you so much," I whisper into her hair before pressing my lips to her temple. "I didn't do what you think I did, Saige. I'd never do that to you. I love you."

I catch her leaning into me, inhaling, before she folds back into herself. "Elias, stop."

"Did you get my messages?"

"Yeah…and I don't want you to send them anymore."

She shrugs me off just as the timer on the oven beeps, and Carrie steps into the kitchen. "Elias…" she says, her tone dripping with resentment, "your dad told me you were here."

"Yeah, thought I'd stop by and see the family."

Saige sneers at me, shaking her head before mouthing, What the fuck is wrong with you?

I bite back a laugh while Carrie pulls a pan of butter tarts from the oven. Maybe there's still a little fire left…just for me. "And I'm just in time for dessert, too. Perfect. I'll get the plates."

I open the cabinet, grabbing four small plates, but when I turn, my dad takes them from my hands. "Thanks, son."

But his eyes say, Back the fuck off.

"You're welcome." I smirk before grabbing a beer from the fridge. "You want a beer, Saige?"

"I—"