Chapter 20 #2
He slurs something incomprehensible. "Nolan?"
"That means yes," Dax says. "You're good."
I throw his other arm over my shoulder, pausing for just a few seconds in case he decides he wants to throw me off, and when he doesn't, I help Dax get him upstairs and in bed.
Once he's lying face-down on top of the covers, Dax sits at the foot of the bed and removes his shoes.
"Thanks," Dax says, out of breath.
"He's fucking heavier than he looks."
"He's got a lot of muscle under there."
"Did you hear anything from Saige?" I ask.
"No, but they're at a party somewhere. I saw it on Kira's stories."
"Yeah, I saw that, too."
He frowns. "Maybe her phone is dead."
I shrug. "Yeah, maybe."
He thinks that's why she isn't texting him back. It still hasn't occurred to him that she really just doesn't want to talk to him.
I don't think Dax has ever been dumped, come to think of it. His projects typically last a month or so before he tosses them aside and acts like nothing happened.
If Saige's resolve is stronger than their trauma bond, it'll be interesting to watch it unfold. I don't think for a second that he's emotionally invested, but it would damage his ego, and I doubt he'd just let that slide.
I've seen Dax angry. It isn't pretty.
"You didn't say something to her about me, did you?"
Not exactly. Not today, anyway.
"Recently?" I shrug again, feigning confusion. "I barely spoke to Saige today. She said something stupid to me about hockey after class, and I might have…I don't know…threatened her, I guess, but that's it."
That's not exactly it. I shoved my fingers into her mouth and almost came in my fucking pants again imagining her deep throating my cock with that terrified look on her face. I ran to the bathroom, pumped my dick in my hand, and then came all over the fucking place.
Dax raises an eyebrow. "What about not recently?"
I don't make a habit of lying to my friends, but what I say next isn't exactly the truth. "I mean, yeah, I made fun of her a little bit."
"Made fun of her how? Why'd you make fun of her?"
"Because…she thinks you're her boyfriend.
I'm pretty sure she thinks you're a throuple or something.
" I laugh a little, but Dax doesn't. "I mean, she's on trauma-brain, so it's not like you can really blame her.
I'm sure if she were thinking clearly, she would know better, but… it is kind of amusing."
"Yeah. It's fucking hilarious," he says flatly.
"She thinks you're taking her to Paris."
"I think you should get out of my room."
"Dude, what's the big deal? It's not like you actually like Saige."
"Well, Brutus, it's the fucking sabotage for me."
"You're not seriously mad, are you?"
"Yeah, I'm mad," he says. "And I'm too fucking drunk to have this conversation with you right now. So, get out of my fucking room."
I throw my hands up. "All right. Fine."
"Close the door behind you."
I close the door and try to laugh off the interaction, but I don't feel great about it. Dax and I have been friends for about a decade, and we only fought once—we were fourteen, and we didn't speak for an entire summer.
But this isn't a fight. He's just annoyed. If Saige does grow a fucking spine, he'll get over it and be onto the next before she can even blink.
It wouldn't surprise me if he's already got his next target in sight. That's kind of how he operates.
I head back downstairs to take Arcadia out for the night, still trying to rationalize it in my head, still refreshing Kira's stories. There's nothing new, but after I bring her back inside and lock the door, my phone rings.
When I realize it's only Blythe, I hit ignore. I wish I wanted to fuck you, Blythe. Sorry.
A few seconds later, she sends me a text.
Desperate, horny girls. I was very clear with her about my rules.
BLYTHE Hey, I'm at a party and that girl you say is your stepsister is here. You know the one who has the fucked up Stockholm thing going on with Dax?
Anyway, she's really messed up, and she's saying some weird shit. Thought you might want to know.
Send me the address.
Don't let her leave.
I pull up at the address and rush into the house, texting Blythe so she can help me find Saige.
"Hey," she says when she meets me at the door.
"Sorry. I tried to get her to go home, but she said she couldn't leave because they're after her and she saw them outside, and they know what she did.
She was mumbling shit about a body and how it was your fault; I think someone might have slipped her something or she's having a bad trip, and I didn't know what to do. "
Jesus Christ.
"Yeah, thanks for calling. I'll take care of it; it sounds like a bad trip. She's pretty fucking messy."
"Thanks for answering. Oh, that's right—you didn't."
"Sorry about that."
"Anyway, she was in here. My roommate is watching her."
I follow her into a back room, where Saige is dancing on a pool table with Kira and some guy in just a red bra and black leather pants. "Well, she did a shitty fucking job watching her."
"No! Not you!" she yells when she sees me. She must be pretty fucked up, because she's laughing, too. "Not him! Blythe, you're a fucking traitor."
"Yep, it's me. Time to go," I say before throwing her over my shoulder.
"Put me down!" she yells as she pummels my back. "Unsafe person! Stranger danger!"
"There's a kidnapping!" Kira yells from the pool table. "He's kidnapping my friend! Boo! You're no fun, Elias. You're a boring person!"
Jesus. How the fuck did I become a boring person? Especially through the eyes of a freshman girl.
A couple of guys step in front of us before we make it out the door. "Are you fucking kidding me? Move."
"I don't think she wants to go with you, man."
"Look, she's my sister, and she's having some kind of bad fucking trip, okay? I'm just going to take her home. And my Porsche is double-parked, so just fucking move, bro."
"Is that your brother?" the other guy asks Saige.
"Yeah, but he's fucking evil," she says. "He's an insane person who keeps me in a hostage bunker!"
I roll my eyes. "She has a bedroom downstairs. There is no hostage bunker. Blythe, please tell them she has a bedroom."
"Um…I've been to the house. She has a room; it's not a hostage bunker. She's just really fucked up."
"You know what?" the first guy says. "I think this was the girl who was talking about dead bodies and how they were after her earlier. Saying they were watching her through the window or some shit. I think she is having a bad trip."
"I'm not having a bad trip! I taunted him in a text, and he came to get me. Elias, you know what I'm talking about."
"Nah, I don't. She's losing it."
"All right, you can go."
I was going regardless, but whatever. Fucking dick.
"Thanks a lot, fuckers!" Saige yells as we pass them on our way out the door. "Way to be heroes!"
Blythe follows us to the car, but I have a hard fucking time getting her into the seat and then making her stay there.
I start thinking about chloroform again. Fuck my life.
"I'm not going with him!" Saige shouts as she jumps out of the driver's side.
I can't chase her around the car again.
"Hey, Saige," Blythe says, trying to calm her. "You're attracting a lot of attention, and you're wasted. Someone is going to call the police, and you're going to end up spending the night in jail. You need to go sleep it off."
"Good. I belong in jail, anyway."
Oh, for fuck's sake…
"I'll go with you," Blythe says. "Okay? You can sit with me. I'm just trying to help you."
"That's what he says, too, but he is not trying to help me."
I throw my arms up in defeat. "All right. I fucking give up; I'm calling Dax."
"No, please don't," Saige says. "Please don't call him."
"It's not like I want to. I have no fucking choice, Saige. You won't listen to me, but you'll listen to him."
She shakes her head. "I'll get in the car. With her."
"Perfect," I grumble, rolling my eyes as I head to the other side of the car.
It's a short drive—less than ten minutes—but Saige falls asleep in the front seat with Blythe. The entire thing is fucking weird. It's not that I have some kind of problem with Blythe, but I just want to be alone with Saige. And it's going to be awkward when I tell her to go home.
I pull into the driveway, park the car, and disable the alarm.
"I'm going to take her inside, and then I'll drive you home, all right? Unless you want to go back to the party…?"
"No, home is fine," she says.
"All right. I'll be right back."
I move to her side of the car, picking Saige up and carrying her like a baby into the house. She barely stirs, not even when I have to shift her weight onto one arm to open the door.
She feels good like this, though—curled up against my chest, peaceful for once. I dip my head and smell her hair, then try to convince myself I didn't do it.
Instead of carrying her to her room, I take her upstairs, lay her in my bed, and cover her up.
"I don't want to be in here," she mumbles without opening her eyes.
"It's okay," I tell her, brushing her hair away from her face. "I'll be right back."
I get stuck there for a minute without realizing it, running my fingers through her hair. Remembering Blythe, I hurry back downstairs and out to the car.
"Okay…you live on Fern, right?"
"Yeah, the east corner of Fern and Lantern," Blythe says.
It's only a couple of blocks, but an awkward silence in the car.
I pride myself on my brutal honesty when it comes to hookups, but I wonder if maybe I fucked up with Blythe.
We hooked up more than once, and then I asked her to stay for breakfast just to piss Saige off.
I invited her to our party afterward, too, but I didn't fuck her, even though I could tell she wanted to.
I might have given her the wrong idea.
"Thanks for the ride," Blythe says as we pull up to the apartment complex. "I hope your sister is okay."
She reaches for the car door handle, but I stop her before she gets out. "Wait a second."
"What? What's wrong?"