Chapter 9
like a christmas present
Saige
Ican't shake the feeling that I'm being watched.
I've felt like this all day, and it's literally making me sick. I can't stop looking for whoever is watching me; I can't stop checking my phone, and I'm sure the two coffees and the energy drink I just finished have done nothing to help calm my nerves.
I've been at the library since my last class ended, finishing my reading for psychology and history tomorrow.
But you know what I've never noticed about libraries?
Normal behavior in one is conducive to stalking.
People creep around alone—typically slowly and quietly.
They stop to peruse certain sections, presumably looking for something, but they could easily be looking past something, watching someone else.
Or lying in wait.
My phone vibrates against the table, and I almost jump out of my skin. I blame my shaky hands on the caffeine when I unlock it and open my texts.
KIRA Are you coming back tonight or are you staying with Dax again? I knocked on your door.
KIRA You should have just told me that you liked him the other night, by the way.
I sigh, only partially relieved. Maybe I should just ruin the friendship, like Elias said.
Because my only other option seems to be pretending like I'm in a relationship with Dax, and that's why I live at their house now.
Fuck. Do I live at their house now?
ME Hey, I'm at the library, sorry. I'll probably be here late. I just got started on my reading.
I definitely want to hang out soon, though.
Shit. Why did I say that?
KIRA What about tomorrow?
I set the phone down before I say something else I regret and try to come up with some kind of excuse.
Maybe I could just tell her I have a stalker. I could say he's an ex, that I think he got into my room and don't feel super safe going out right now.
I'll have to ask Dax.
I'm mad at myself as soon as I think it.
Sighing, I decide to go back to my homework, but before I do, the windows along the back wall catch my eye.
The sun has set. And Elias said if I wasn't back before dark, he would come find me and drag me back.
I don't believe him—I don't know how he'd find me in the first place, but I don't really want to walk back in the dark, either.
I scramble to put my things back into my bag, rushing toward the staircase and then out the door and into the dark quad. It's not like it's empty; there are still people leaving later classes or heading out with their friends.
But it's eerie. I get that feeling again, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I resist the urge to look behind me for as long as I can before risking a quick glance.
A man follows not too far behind with a hoodie covering his head and his hands in his front pockets. He doesn't have a bag or anything, but it's not like that's super unusual.
It is a little warm to be bundled up like that, though. Unless you're Nolan.
I walk a little faster, opting to cut through the buildings instead of staying on the path, hoping he won't follow, but he does. His footsteps get louder, closer. I try to stay calm, but then I can practically feel him right behind me.
Fuck this.
I break out into a run, darting through the alley toward the front of the buildings, to the perceived safety of streetlights and foot traffic on the other side.
I look over my shoulder as I round the corner but slam into another body and then fall off the curb, landing face down in the street.
"What the fuck, bitch!?" the guy I ran into says. "Watch where the fuck you're going!"
"Hey, fuck you, asshole!" a girl shouts after him. "Are you okay? Let me help you."
My cheek burns. I press my hand to it and wince before pushing myself up to my knees and letting the girl pull me to my feet. I think my elbow is bleeding, too. I scan the area for the man in the hoodie, but I don't see anyone.
He probably wasn't even following me. It was all in my head.
"You're Elias's sister, right?"
I finally look at the girl who helped me up and realize she's the one I made breakfast for the other day.
"Um…yeah."
"Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you? You fell really hard."
"No, that's okay," I tell her. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" she asks. "You hit your head—your face is bleeding."
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm fine. It happens all the time."
"It does?"
"Um, no. Sorry. I don't know why I said that. I have to go. But…thanks."
I think she calls after me, but I certainly don't want to explain myself. I'm just a couple of blocks away now, and I just want to get back.
The house is dark when I get there—I'm not sure anyone is home.
I enter through the garage, using the code, and Arcadia meets me at the door when I step inside.
I drop my backpack on the ground and then fall to my knees, throw my arms around my dog's neck, and cry, salty tears stinging the left side of my face.
Nolan flips on the living room light. I didn't even know he was in there—if I'd seen or heard him, I probably would have screamed.
"Saige? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry. Come on, Arcadia."
"What the fuck happened to your face?"
"I fell."
He narrows his eyes. "What really happened? If someone did this to you—"
"I really did fall. I thought someone was following me, and I got freaked out, ran into someone else, and fell face-first into the street."
"You're bleeding. Let me help you."
"It's okay; I've got it." I realize the blood from my elbow is running down my arm and awkwardly cover it with my hand to prevent it from dripping onto the floor.
"I have a first aid kit in the bathroom upstairs. There aren't any bandages or anything down here; I'll go grab it."
"Okay."
Nolan heads upstairs, and I step inside the bathroom to clean up and assess the damage. My cheek is black and red. There's road rash around my left eye socket, still with a few pieces of gravel in the wound.
I turn on the water, rinsing my bloody arm and cleaning the scrape on my elbow before doing the same with my face. Once I get the dirt and everything from the road off of me, it doesn't look nearly as bad.
I dry my face, and when I look into the mirror again, Nolan is behind me.
This time, I do jump. "Jesus!"
"Sorry," he says, opening the first aid kit on the counter. "I didn't mean to scare you; I should have said something."
"No, it's okay. It's not your fault; I've been pretty fucking jumpy lately."
"That's understandable," he says, taking out some gauze and antiseptic.
"Where is…everybody?"
"Dax and Elias are at the gym," Nolan says. "They'll be back soon, though."
His proximity in the small space makes me tense.
He told me I didn't need to be afraid of him—that he wouldn't hurt me—but there is something about his presence that still sets my teeth on edge.
Maybe it's his voice—that low register I can practically feel when he speaks, especially when he's mere centimeters from my chest the way he is now.
Or maybe it's his eyes—cold, dark, and devoid of emotion. Part of me wants to reach up, remove his glasses, and study them a little closer. But the other part—the bigger part—can barely move while they pin me in place.
I wonder what they look like when he smiles. If I'd pried Miles's eyelids open that night, would they have looked just like this?
That's a morbid fucking thought.
He presses the gauze to the road rash around my eye socket, eliciting a hiss. I barely stop myself from grabbing his arm, remembering that he doesn't like to be touched and balling my fists tightly at my side.
"You might end up with a black eye."
"I've had worse."
"Yeah," he says in the low-rumble tone of his. "I know."
Nolan discards the gauze and then moves onto my elbow. This time, I'm more prepared and manage not to flinch.
"We got the new security system installed," he tells me. "I'll show you how it works."
"Okay." It comes out as almost a whisper.
He places a bandage on the wound. "Are you okay? Is something else bothering you?"
"All of this bothers me." I pull my arm back, cradling it against my body as I step around him and out of the bathroom. Before I retreat to the bedroom, he stops me again.
"Come sit down, Saige. I'll make you a drink."
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Because you look like you fucking need one," he says.
"Um, yeah. Okay. I just need to change my clothes first. I'm filthy from falling in the street."
I do need one. And like I said, I'm still a little afraid of him, so after I change into my sleep shorts and a tank top, I do what he says, sitting down on the couch with Arcadia beside me while Nolan pours two whiskeys.
He hands me mine, my heart stopping when I accidentally close my hand over his own before he pulls it back, but he seems unaffected. I wouldn't normally drink straight liquor like this, but I think he's right—this time, I fucking need it. I gulp down half of it while he sits in the armchair.
"I'm sorry about what happened this morning."
I shrug. "It's no big deal. Anyway, Elias has been torturing me for years—all of you did, and none of you ever cared before."
"I didn't."
"Really? I remember when you set my backpack on fire. I had to cut my hair."
"Mmm, yeah. The hair smelled. But that wasn't me; it was Dax."
My mouth gapes. Now that he's said it, I know he's right. But I don't remember it that way. I can't picture it anymore.
"Well, you were there…for all of it. You let it happen, just like everyone else. And even after you were gone, it didn't stop." I don't mean to say it, and I wonder for a second if he's going to react like Elias did. I take another drink from my glass just to shut my ass up.
"Everyone has their own shit, Saige. Mine was pretty heavy then. I didn't have the luxury of caring about what was happening to you, and I can't be sorry for that. I'm not sorry about it. Still, Elias shouldn't have put his hands on you like he did."