Chapter 10 Things That Leave a Mark
things that leave a mark
Nolan
Idon't remember the last time I needed an alarm to wake me. I've never slept much. I'd go to bed afraid of what I'd see when I opened my eyes.
Of course, I still set them, because fuck, if I missed one, my entire fucking day would fall apart.
Before my mom met Neil, we lived with my grandparents.
They only had one television and not many more channels, so after dinner, we'd play cards or board games together—a lot of Clue and Uno.
But my favorite was Jenga. You'd pull a piece of the puzzle away, disrupting the foundation, and hold your breath, waiting to see if the entire thing would collapse.
And if it didn't, you'd pull another…and another…
That's how I feel sometimes—like what's left of my sanity is just a haphazardly constructed tower of unstable pieces, and if you pull one, maybe I'll be okay.
Maybe I'll just feel it in my gut all day—that sinking feeling, impending doom.
I'll grind my teeth and run until I throw up, but I won't fall down, and when I get up the next morning, I'll get to start all over again.
But if you pull the wrong one at the wrong time, the entire foundation could crumble. And when that happens, it can take days or weeks to put myself back together again.
Aside from a slight hangover, I feel okay today, though. I know I won't make it to the gym this morning, but I mentally prepared myself yesterday. I brought my running shoes and mapped out a route from here through downtown and then over to the high school and back.
Twenty kilometers—a nice even number. They'll probably be awake by the time I get back, but the long run will make up for missing my lift.
I sit up, grabbing my phone from the end table and silencing the alarm just minutes before it's set to go off, and then put on my glasses. Dax, Saige, and Elias are still asleep on the living room floor.
I think Saige fell asleep on Elias, but her entire body is wrapped around Dax now, all their limbs intertwined.
He always snores when he drinks, like he is now…right against Saige's fucking ear. I shake my head and step around them, careful not to wake them, but before I leave the room, I stop, pulling out my phone, and then take a quick picture.
That's my foundation right there. It's been a long time since I found myself in that dark place, and they're the reason. They hold me up. The least I could do for them is remove a threat to their fucking existence from the planet.
I know what it feels like to move through life in fear the way Saige is now, and I've already let it go on far too long.
Anyway, the Thorpes made my monster disappear; I wouldn't be standing here if they hadn't.
They saved me, and they probably saved my little sister, too.
It's only fair that I return the favor and get rid of their monster.
I go to the kitchen, fill a glass of water, and take my pills. Then, I make two pieces of toast, eating them quickly before putting on my running shoes and heading out the front door.
The late November air is cold and thick with fog. I can almost taste the salt on my tongue as I settle into a brisk but steady pace, my mind almost quieting as I hit my stride.
Almost.
But it's a calm distraction. I go over what I've learned about Miles and what I've observed over the last two days. He's meticulous—a very scheduled, disciplined individual, a creature of habit, like me.
Only my habits and patterns are carefully curated to keep my demons quiet—to ensure the part of me that aches for violence and the feel of bone crushing under my fists can't take control.
His are safe holds, put there to ensure that the people around him don't realize what they're already looking at.
When I get back to the house, drenched in sweat, my throat sore from the cold air, just the way I like it, Dax is alone on the living room floor.
Still snoring, he lies shirtless on his back, the blanket slung low around his waist. My eyes roam over his muscular torso—over his pecs and strong arms covered in tattoos.
I consider for a second lying down next to him and waking him up with my lips wrapped around his dick—I know how he likes that—and I'm instantly hard as a fucking rock.
I lick my lips before I'm interrupted by Elias.
"Morning," he says. "Did you go for a run?"
Obviously. "Yeah. I took the dog out, too. Where's Saige?"
"She's upstairs in the shower," he tells me. "I have practice, so I have to get back. I wouldn't stay too long, though. I'm pretty sure Saige's mom's head would spontaneously explode if she caught the two of you here—not that I'd have a problem with that."
"Yeah, maybe don't make jokes about Saige's mom dying if you want her to trust you."
"What? It's not like she can hear me. And I'm not actively trying to kill her mom; I just wouldn't mind if she died. One less problem for me." Surely, he doesn't mean that. He wouldn't wish that on someone he says he loves. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason."
"All right," he says, grabbing Arcadia's leash. "I'll see you later. Saige made coffee."
After he leaves, I grab a mug, fill it, and then walk back to the living room.
I look at Dax, lying on his back on the rug, the outline of his morning wood visible through the blanket, and then at the bathroom door upstairs.
I don't know how long I stand there—minutes maybe—before climbing the staircase. I stop in front of the bathroom door and turn the knob, finding it unlocked. As I step inside, Saige peeks around the shower curtain.
"Oh…hi."
"Hey." I set my coffee and fogged up glasses on the sink and then sit on the toilet seat with my head in my hands.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," I tell her. "Just…give me a minute. Pretend I'm not here."
"Okay." She closes the curtain again without asking questions. It's one of the reasons why I love her so much—she acts like I'm not a fucking headcase. "But I'm glad you're here. I like it when you're here," she adds.
Minutes pass in silence, aside from the sound of water against the porcelain tub. And I'm only getting sweatier.
"Nolan? Should I get out now?"
"No. Stay there, okay? I have to get this out. Just don't look at me."
"Okay..."
Fuck. "I've been thinking a lot about something you said."
"Uh-oh. What'd I do? I have a head injury, remember? Whatever it was, I'm sorry."
"No, you didn't do anything, you just…when you told me you wanted to show me your scar because you didn't want me to see it on accident and get freaked out…I kind of made fun of you for it."
"No, I don't think you did. I mean, I didn't feel that way. You made me feel better."
"The first time Dax saw my scars, it was an accident.
And he…" I pause, swallowing a lump in my throat.
"He freaked the fuck out, Saige. He was so fucking…
scared for me. Someday, that's going to happen with us.
You're going to see my scars, and it won't be pretty, and I just think I'd feel better if I could control that narrative, like you said. You know?"
I stand and pull my hoodie and the long-sleeved shirt beneath it over my head.
"Nolan…I don't need you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry you felt pressured by what I said; I wasn't thinking—"
"Nah, I don't feel pressured, Saige. I think I'll feel better once it's over with. I won't have to think about things like my shirt riding up when I sleep. It'll just be done. I mean, unless you find me repulsive. I find myself repulsive sometimes."
I'm talking too much. I never fucking talk this much.
"That will never happen. I mean, you know that, right?"
I don't know. I know she loves me, and I know it wouldn't be on purpose, but you can't control something like that. It's a visceral reaction.
I step out of my sweats and boxers and into the shower with Saige.
She takes me in, her eyes widening as they drop from my face and roam over my body. "Nolan…"
She covers her mouth with her hands.
"I'm okay," I tell her. I pull her into my chest, holding her against the worst of the scars, watching the water run down her back, grateful she keeps her hands in front of her body and just lets me hold her like this. "It happened a long time ago."
"I don't think you're repulsive," she sobs. "I think you're beautiful. I'm just crying because—"
"It's okay, baby. I love you so much—I hope you know that. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"It's okay; I knew. I love you, too. I wanted to tell you, but when I told Dax, he freaked out."
"I know. I'm sorry." I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Sometimes, he tried to make shapes or letters with them—the scars, I mean. Let me show you something…"
Saige steps back, and I point to a spot on my left deltoid where the cigarette burns make a smiley face. "This is the worst one," I tell her. "I fucking hate it. Sometimes, I think I'd like to burn it off. Maybe I'll burn them all off."
"I think…" she pauses, touching my face. "That you survived a really fucking sick person, and you didn't deserve that; it wasn't fair. But I love everything about you. There's nothing you could say or do that would change the way I feel about you."
"I know you do, baby. That's why I trust you."
I trail my hand down her chest, over her perky tits, teasing the hard point of her nipple with my thumb while the other hand slips between her legs.
As I stroke her clit, she closes her eyes, exhaling slowly before bracing herself with her hand against the shower wall.
She gasps, rocking her hips a little, and I smile.
"You sure there's nothing I could do that would change the way you feel about me?"
"Yes…"
"After I kill a man with my bare hands, are you still going to let me put them on your body like this?"
"When I thought I killed a man, you threw his body off a cliff and told me he deserved it. I would do that for you…oh, god…"
"That's sweet, but I don't need you to do all of that. I just need you to come for me."
"Nolan…" she moans before her other hand clutches the shower curtain. "Oh, fuck."
"What if I told you I lied to you about something?"
"Oh, fuck, I don't care! Ah!"
She rests her head against my shoulder when she comes, her knees buckling and toes curling against the bath mat. While her body shakes, I press my lips against her ear and tell her, "I did bite that bird's head off. It was…unpleasant."
"I don't care!" And then she pulls the curtain a little too hard, ripping it from several of its hooks. "Oh…shit."
I smile, and then grab her chin, bringing her lips to mine.
"What kind of bird was it?"
"A raven. I just got tired of those kids fucking staring at me. And to be fair, I didn't expect it to let me grab it. Now, turn around, baby; let me fuck you."
"Yes, sir," she says.
My dick fucking throbs. I think I liked that a little too much. "Be careful with that word, Saige. Bend over."
She does as she's told, her perfect pussy on full display. "What word? Sir?"
"That's the one." I slide the head of my dick down her crack, causing her to gasp, before thrusting into her pussy.
Then I grab her by her forearms and hold them behind her back, using them for leverage while I fuck into her.
"You call me sir, and you're going to find yourself bent over with my cum running down your thighs every fucking time.
That's just fucking asking for it, baby. "
"I want it," she moans. "I want your cum, sir."
"Fuck…"
I slam my dick into her, watching her wet ass cheeks bounce with every thrust of my hips—every time her tight fucking pussy takes my cock. I realize I like the idea that something as pretty and perfect as she is wants to bend over and get fucked by a scarred psychopath like me.
She wants to obey me and call me sir.
Saige arches her back a little more, whimpering.
"Fuck, that's good…"
"Nolan…fuck…"
She comes again, her pussy clenching around my throbbing dick, milking my cum from the tip. I don't stop pumping my dick into her, fucking her through our orgasms.
Filling her while she squirms and watching it drip from her swollen pussy when I finally pull out.
It's one of the prettiest things I've ever seen. And when she turns to me again, she doesn't look at me like I'm some kind of fucking freak; she looks at me like she always does.
This is why I have to kill him.
Afterward, I wash off and dress, covering my body again. When Dax says he'll ride back with Saige, I suggest that she rides with me instead, and tell him that he can take her car.
It's only fair.
I take her hand in mine as I pull out of the driveway. "Saige?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to take you back to the dorm, but then we are going to pack some of your stuff and go back to the house. I want you to stay there until this is over, okay? I'm not really asking this time."
"Yes, sir," she says.
I bite back a smile, shaking my head. "I hope you like being tied to my bed, Saige."
"Don't worry; I do."
We don't talk about my scars, and I don't think about them for the rest of the day.