Chapter 1 #4
She finally leaves, closing the door behind her, and I exhale slowly before standing and crossing the room to that stack of boxes, sorting through them until I find my clothes.
I swap my denim shorts for a pair of sweats, leaving on my band tee and slipping off the bra beneath it.
Then, after ensuring the hallway is empty, I make my way to the bathroom, holding my breath until the door closes behind me.
It's small, with a freestanding sink, an older toilet, and small hexagonal porcelain tiles. There's a shower/tub combo with a dark blue curtain.
And it smells like a man in here. A canister of shaving cream sits on the sink with a razor next to it. I open the medicine cabinet and find men's cologne, hair products, and lotions. I'm going to have to share this bathroom with my stepbrother, who is most definitely not a little boy.
I use the bathroom, wash my face and hands, and then return to the small pink bedroom.
After moving the pillows, shaking out the blankets, and turning off the light, I crawl into the unfamiliar warmth of the bed.
I think of Elias, somewhere in the woods, sleeping on the floor of that dilapidated cabin with his dog.
Before I can feel bad for him—before I can wish I'd done something differently, I reach inside my shirt, finding the bruise he left when he sank his teeth into my skin earlier and press down on it.
It hurts, just like I wanted it to.
I don't really think I can do long distance. I don't really think I can do long distance. I don't really think I can do long distance.
He didn't even look sad; he grimaced when he said it, crinkling his nose like he'd just said something like, I think there's something wrong with the cheese curds.
With my fingers still digging into the bruised flesh and the words replaying in my head, I let myself cry again until I fall asleep.
I'm not sure what time I wake up the next morning, but it feels late.
I reach for my phone, but it's dead. Late morning sun streams through the large picture window as I never closed the curtains last night.
In daylight, the area is even more beautiful, with mountains in the distance, and the forest behind me painted in the colors of fall.
My stomach growls, and, realizing I can't put this off forever and might as well get it over with, I dress in a pair of straight legged jeans with torn knees and a black cami and head downstairs, smelling my mom's blueberry pancakes before I hit the landing.
To the right of the foyer through an arched doorway is a bright, open living room, with a large TV mounted into a stack stone wall above a gas fireplace.
To the left is a kitchen, where my mom stands over a large range, laughing while Alex whispers in her ear.
Before I can interrupt, she sees me, her eyes lighting up as she motions for me to join them.
"Saige, come here, sweetheart," she says. "I'm just about done with breakfast, and there's coffee on the bar over there." She gestures to the space behind her while Alex wraps his arms around her waist, taking her left hand in his own while the other holds a spatula.
My gaze drops to their wedding rings. I wonder if he wore a ring when they met.
"Thanks." I cross the room to the coffee maker, taking a mug from the cabinet.
"Go ahead and have a seat in the dining room, sweetie," Mom tells me, tossing the final pancakes onto a plate.
"Where do I sit?" I ask.
"Sit wherever you want," Alex says. "I really want you to feel like this is your home, too, Saige. This is a new start for all of us, so pick whichever chair you want, and it'll be yours."
A glass pitcher of orange juice sits on the table along with a fruit tray and another small plate with sausage.
I don't miss that there are four places set.
I choose the chair closest to me, and my mom sits across from me with Alex at her side.
"I'd hoped my son would be here this morning so you could meet him, but it looks like he didn't come home last night," Alex says as we fill our plates. "I'm sure he stayed with Dax. He's been…difficult about this."
He frowns, and my mom places her hand over his. "He'll come around."
Yeah, I fucking hope so, I think as I dig into my pancakes. I hope he stayed with this Dax guy and not in some burnt-down house next to a cliff.
But my eyes settle on Alex's jawline, on the shape of his eyebrows and light green eyes just like the ones that bore into me last night.
I look away just as he catches me staring, spotting the dog bowls in the corner.
Suddenly, I find it hard to swallow.
Alex goes on about the school and the town, really trying to sell me on it while we eat. He tells me they want to take me to see it later, that they'll take me shopping and the three of us can get lunch downtown.
The two of them seem so happy, so hopeful. It certainly doesn't seem like anything illicit is going on here.
I smile and nod in agreement, ignoring that heavy feeling in my gut and my broken heart. I stay quiet when he adds that my boyfriend and friends are welcome here whenever I want, not bothering to mention that I don't think I have either.
Just as I'm about to clear my plate, a large brindle Boxer, who's apparently still a baby, bounds into the room and jumps up on me, licking my face.
"Arcadia, get down!" Alex says. "Leave her alone! I'm so sorry, Saige—you can push her off of you. She's still a puppy."
"It's…" I pause, spotting Elias in the doorway, his jaw clenched, eyes shooting daggers at me, pinning me to my seat. "…okay."
"Son, this is Carrie's daughter, Saige," Alex says. "Come have a seat; get something to eat."
The imposing figure frozen in the doorway doesn't speak; he doesn't take his eyes off me, but they drop briefly from my own down to the bruise on my chest and then back again.
He's going to kill me.
But I didn't do anything to him. I was kind to him. I comforted him, didn't I?
"You're a sick person," he finally says before grabbing the dog's leash and leaving the room.
"Elias, please—" Alex starts before deciding to let him go. It's clear he thought those words were meant for him; I watch him let them hurt him, but I know better. I know they were for me.
I wait a few minutes—until I hear him ascend the staircase and slam his bedroom door—before getting up. I help my mom load the dishwasher and then agree to get my things and head into town with the two of them.
"He's a good kid," Alex says as I walk away. "He's very popular—captain of his hockey team, too. We still don't know if he'll play this year, but…the point is, he'll come around. He can help you make friends."
Knowing that will never happen, I offer him a smile and head upstairs, keeping my footfall quiet as I pass what I assume is Elias's bedroom.
After I close the door behind me, I power on my phone, opening Instagram. But the photo at the top of my feed is one of Sawyer with Thea in his lap at a house party, and my breakfast threatens to come back up.
Before I can close it or scroll away, my door slams open, startling me enough that the phone slips from my hands.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
I turn, shaking my head. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know—about you or your mom or any of it."
He extends one long, powerful arm and grabs me by the throat. Instinctively, I grab onto his fingers, attempting to pry them away, but it doesn't faze him. "Don't you dare say a word about my mother, you lying fucking gutter slut."
"I'm…not…" Lying, I try to force out. I'm not lying.
"You let me say all that shit to you, and you knew," he says, and then chuckles a little, incredulous. "Who does that?"
Elias releases me, and I fall onto the bed, coughing and gasping for air. "I'm sorry!" I say as he pins me down with his knee and grabs me by my hair.
"You should have stopped me," he grits through clenched teeth. "And I should have let you go over that ledge. I promise you that you're going to wish I had."
He gives the hair wrapped around his fist one more harsh tug before he releases it and turns to the door. With his hand on the knob, he stops and says, "And if you ever tell anyone about last night, I'll fucking kill you."
Tears sting my eyes, my heart racing as he finally leaves the room. I curl onto my side, still gasping for air.
"Saige!" my mom calls from downstairs. "Are you about ready to go?"
But I can't answer. I'm still trying to catch my breath.
"Saige!"
"I'm coming!" I shout back, hoping she can't hear my voice breaking.
But before I leave the room, I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, my eyes immediately dropping to the red mark around my neck.
I grab a hoodie from my clothing box, pulling it over my head to cover it up, and head downstairs.
"It's pretty warm out," my mom says. "I'm not sure you're going to want that sweatshirt."
"Was Alex single when you started seeing him?" I ask, my tone dripping with accusation.
She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. I can see it in her eyes, though—the guilt. She knows what it feels like, and still, she did it to someone else.
"She's dead now," I whisper. "Did she die in this house?"
"No," she says. "Not in the house, I—"
"I don't fucking believe this."
"Ready to go, ladies?" Alex asks, appearing in the foyer.
"Yep," I say, my tone brash as I storm out the door and into my harsh new reality.
And in the car, while they talk like nothing happened, I press on that bruise again, reliving the last twenty-four hours in my head, thinking it won't get worse than this—it can only get better.
After all, I've never hurt anyone. I didn't do anything to deserve this.
But no one ever gets what they deserve. And I think I'm about to find out just how true that is.