Chapter 6
hard to love
Saige
"They seem pretty convinced," Nolan says after hanging up with Elias.
He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his.
"Saige, I think this is real. I know it isn't what you were hoping for, but…
I think they're right. Miles remembers, which means he's the one who did this to you.
There must be a reason he's playing it the way he is; I don't think he's going to stop. "
I look down at my plate, stabbing my sad campus cafeteria eggs with my fork.
"Baby, are you listening? Did you hear me?" he asks. "Saige—"
"Yes," I snap, my tone harsher than I intended. "I heard you."
"I'm sorry."
"I just want to be normal. I want normal-people problems, and I don't understand why the universe thinks that's too goddamn much for me to ask. I mean, aren't we even now? I threw him off a balcony, he beat the shit out of me in an alley. Fucking…tits and tats or whatever."
Nolan laughs, almost spitting his coffee across the table.
"What? What's funny about that?"
"Nothing," he laughs. "No, I think you're right. You totally deserve normal-people problems, but I believe the expression is tit for tat, although I like yours better. Everyone loves tits and tats, so…that makes sense, too."
I frown. "Please don't make fun of me. I have a head injury."
"I would never."
Since I can't hold him—especially not here—I lie on the table, resting my head on his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you," I tell him. "You're the only good thing in my life."
I know it's a selfish thing to say. It puts a burden on him, and it's causing a rift in his relationship with Dax. Maybe he can't see it yet, but Dax is right…it won't work like this.
I need him more, though. And that's selfish, too, because I know how much he needs Dax. I know how good he is for him.
We're existing on borrowed time, and I don't want to give it back because I love him. I love him so much that it hurts, just like the empty space Dax left. But I will never, ever say that out loud…not after what happened last time.
Nolan combs his fingers through my hair. I flinch just a little when they run over the bald spot on the back of my head, but he doesn't.
"There's still a lot of good in your life, Saige," he says. "We're going to have to talk about this more, though. We have to do something, baby."
"Not right now," I say softly. "I can't."
"Okay. That's all right." He leans in and kisses the top of my head, which he typically wouldn't do in the middle of the dining hall, where anyone can see. "I need to get to the gym, though. Do you want me to walk you back to your room?"
"No, I'm just going to go to the library when I'm finished. If I go out the back, I'll barely have to step outside to get there. I can stay out of the rain and avoid any potential assailants."
"Be good, Saige. Text me. I'll see you tonight, okay?"
I can't help but feel guilty again. We've spent every night together since I got back because he's worried about me, which means he hasn't spent any with Dax. No wonder he thinks I'm trying to take Nolan away from him.
I sit up, releasing his hand. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later."
He takes his tray, and I watch him until he disappears around the corner.
After forcing down as much of the sad eggs as I can, I do the same, but instead of using the front entrance, I move toward the back of the building, passing through the dark, empty hallway to an exit near the library.
It's a bit eerie, but I try not to let it get to me.
Most of the doors lead to science labs, but they're dated, and now, they're mainly used for testing.
I'm so tired of being on high-alert. I'm tired of being afraid.
I'm just fucking tired.
Maybe I should have been paying more attention, because just before I reach the exit, a hand closes around my arm, jerking me into one of those old labs.
I didn't even see them coming. My head swims, my knees go weak beneath me.
"Help!" I shout as I lose my footing in the dark room. The hand releases me, and I stumble down the aisle, falling face down on the floor.
My heart hammers in my chest. Tears sting my eyes. It's just like in the alley.
It's him.
I shrug off my backpack and scramble to my feet. "Somebody help!"
"Would you shut up? Jesus, are you crying?"
Dax. I pause, catching my breath while my eyes adjust to the dark room, illuminated only by what little grey light streams through two small windows near the back.
Dax stands near the end of the aisle with his arms crossed in front of his chest. "W-what are you doing here?" I ask.
"I track Nolan's phone—blah, blah, blah.
Anyway, game over, Saige. Hand over the fucking card, and then you and I are going to return whatever the hell you spent four thousand fucking dollars on yesterday.
What the fuck were you thinking? You say you want me to leave you alone, but that's not the behavior of someone who wants to be left alone, Saige.
" He takes a few steps toward me. "Looks like you're a little brat acting out for my attention. "
"I don't want your attention," I hiss. "You caught me on fire!
I had to replace my backpack, my laptop, my books, and you know what?
You owe me damages for emotional manipulation, so I'm not returning shit.
You didn't help me get rid of a body because—guess what?
The guy's back—he's walking, talking, and probably still trying to kill me, so there's nothing left to hold over my head. We're done here."
Dax huffs. "God, so dramatic. You really believe this fucking narrative you've painted for yourself, don't you? I bet you think it keeps you warm and safe at night. Poor Saige."
"Dax, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Your fucking victim complex! And oh, by the way, how does taking your big brother's cock fit into that carefully constructed story of yours? I saw you together yesterday—he assaulted you, and you're still letting him come in you, aren't you?"
"Fuck you!" I shove him back with both hands, and he laughs.
"Nolan is going to see through you, too. He'll leave you; you know that, right? And then what? You can't take him from me. I mean it, Saige. I don't care what I have to do to keep him."
"You know what? I am so glad you've reminded me of who you really are; I was acting like an idiot.
" Thick tears roll down each of my cheeks.
"Enjoy the tears, because I'm done crying over you.
You know, for a while, I couldn't figure out why I wasn't angrier with Elias, either.
And then I realized it was because he's always been a monster. I felt safe with you."
"Well, that was pretty fucking stupid of you," Dax says. "You're my victim."
I swallow a lump in my throat and wipe my eyes before grabbing my backpack from the floor. "Yeah, I got that. Thanks for admitting it, though. I don't have the card. I'll give it to Nolan."
That should be it. I should leave, and I almost do. Instead, I stop in the middle of the aisle, my eyes settling on all the glass instruments lined up across the lab table beside me, the words stupid and victim replaying in my head.
They say violence isn't the answer, but sometimes, it can be so satisfying. And I learned a long time ago that the best way to get my bullies to back the fuck off was to swing.
Or, in this case, throw.
Letting my bag fall from my shoulders, I pick up a beaker, turning it over in my hands.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks from behind me. "How hard did you hit your head? Are you lost? You're ruining your own dramatic, crybaby exit."
I turn and lob the instrument, hitting him right in the center of the fucking forehead before it falls to the ground and shatters into pieces.
"Fuck!" he shouts, leaning over and holding his hand against his head. "That hurt! Have you lost your goddamn—"
Maybe I have. I grab another and fling it at him, too. I grab whatever I can get my fucking hands on and just start throwing it.
It can't be that bad. It's not like I'm a grown man beating him with a fucking gun or catching him on fire.
"I hate you!" He bats at the shit flying at him while shielding his face with the other arm, moving closer to me.
"I hate you so fucking much!" When there's nothing left on the desk beside me, I move onto the next.
"You ruined everything, Dax! And you have no idea what you ruined because you don't value anything or anyone in your life! "
Dax looks over his arm at the wrong time, and the flask I threw hits him square on the chin. He growls, and I wince a little when I see blood on his teeth, but I don't stop.
"The only thing you care about is yourself and how others perceive you, and it's empty and boring and soulless!
Nolan is none of those things, and I—" I feel around the desk, but I'm out of ammunition.
Forced to look away from Dax, I turn and head for the next desk in the far back corner, eager to put more space between us.
"I won't have to take him from you. He'll get tired of it, and then he'll just leave! "
I reach for a container of pens, but Dax grabs both of my arms, holding them tightly behind my back.
"You think I don't know that, hmm?" he asks.
"I don't need you to tell me that! I'm not an idiot, Saige.
And I fucking know what I ruined! But you know what?
I don't even want it back anymore. I thought I liked your broken pieces, but you're not like him, either.
You're too hard—you're too fucking cynical.
You hold grudges, and you act like the entire fucking world is out to get you.
Who could love someone like that?! You don't even let them try.
You're poison, Saige." He jerks harder on my arms, and I yelp.
"You're nothing like Nolan. You're just like your brother. "
"Let go of me!"