Chapter 11 Stepmonster
stepmonster
Elias
The house is empty when I get home later that evening, even though both Dax and Nolan's cars are here.
Practice went long, and it kind of sucked, but we're not terrible—not with me, anyway. Maybe next semester, when the coach starts letting me play more, we can actually win.
And maybe by then, I'll have Saige where I want her—how I want her, whenever I want her. And now she knows how I like to celebrate wins.
I toss my bag down beside the door, let Arcadia out, and then open a beer and turn on the television before noticing the light on in the downstairs bedroom. When I go to turn it off, I find a small suitcase beside the door and Saige's backpack on the bed.
I take out my phone and text Nolan.
Where is everyone?
NOLAN Temperance Lounge
Is Saige with you? Do you really think that's a good idea?
Despite the name, Temperance is a basement dive bar and music venue just a few blocks from here. I don't like it—I mean, the bar itself is fine, but I don't think it's a good idea for Saige to be out right now.
NOLAN She's fine. She's with us. You can't expect her to live like a fucking prisoner. She wants to go out.
I don't expect her to…but it would be kind of nice if she would.
Fuck. I let the dog back in, change into jeans and a t-shirt, then grab my coat and walk down to Temperance.
After waiting in line and paying the cover, I descend the staircase into the dark, crowded basement. As I push through to the bar, I search the room for Saige and the guys.
Everyone is here tonight—and I mean fucking everyone, which is unusual for a fucking Sunday. Several people flag me down and try to have conversations with me, and after the third time, I get tired of being polite and just start fucking ignoring them completely.
And then, finally, I see her…leaning against the bar in a pair of jeans that hug her ass and a black long-sleeved crop top.
I've been fixated on her for long enough that I could easily pick her ass out of a fucking lineup.
Golden brown hair cascades down to her waist when she throws her head back, laughing at something the bartender says.
She straightened it today; I haven't seen it straightened in a while.
As he hands her a beer, I walk up behind her and place my hand on her lower back. "Can I get a Moosehead Lager?" I ask the bartender before turning to Saige. "Hey, baby."
But when she turns to me, the smile falls from her lips.
"What's wrong?"
"Um, nothing. Hi." She pushes my hand away; it's subtle, and maybe if I weren't hyperaware of everything she does, I would have thought it was natural.
But I am hyperaware of everything she does.
"How'd you find us?"
"Nothing creepy," I tell her. "I texted Nolan, and he told me you guys were here."
"Oh…"
"I missed you, Saige." I place my hand on her cheek and lean in to kiss her, but she quickly turns her head, shrugging me off.
"We're sitting over there," Saige says, pointing to a nearby booth where Nolan sits with a drink in his hand, watching us. She leaves me at the bar, waiting for my drink alone, and I sigh, watching her slide into the booth next to him.
It feels like a fucking eternity passes before I finally get my beer. Then I sit across from her, reaching under the table and placing my hand on her knee.
She freezes, her eyes frantically scanning the room.
"You look really pretty."
"Thanks," Saige says, but she refuses to look at me.
A band takes the stage, and Saige diverts her attention to the singer, pretending to be consumed in her introduction. Before she finishes, Dax stops in front of the table.
"Sorry that took so long," he says. Saige exhales relief before sliding over, making room for Dax at her side.
When he throws his arm around her and kisses her, she doesn't cringe or push him away.
"The men's washroom is fucking disgusting.
I won't go into detail, but there is only one functional and semi-hygienic urinal, just so everyone at the table knows.
" He looks at me. "So…I'd recommend drinking slowly. "
"Thanks for the tip."
"You want to dance, baby?" Dax asks Saige.
She smiles, nodding, and then throws back the rest of her beer and lets him lead her onto the dance floor.
I lean against the back corner of the booth with my bottle in my hand, watching them together—kissing, touching, his hands on her hips, her body pressed against his. And I'm fucking jealous.
I'd dance with Saige, but she wouldn't even let me touch her back at the bar. I love Saige, and she won't even look at me.
"How was practice?" Nolan asks.
"Is this how it is when you all go out?" I ask, ignoring his question.
Nolan narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Does Saige pretend she's only with Dax? Is that's what's happening? Do you pretend you aren't all together?"
"Um…no. We don't really pretend anything. Honestly, we haven't been out much, given the circumstances, but I've never felt like Saige or Dax were pretending we weren't all together."
"She won't even touch me."
"Oh. Well, I don't like to be touched, remember?
I definitely don't like to be touched in public, so maybe sometimes people think they're the couple and I'm the third wheel; I don't really care what they think.
" He shrugs, taking a swig of his drink while I look back at Saige and Dax.
I watch his hands slide down her ass, a smile playing on her lips before she reaches behind his neck and pulls his lips to hers.
"But I mean, that's not why she's cringing with you. "
I whip my head back to Nolan. "You think she's cringing? Why? Why is she cringing?"
"It's the brother thing, mostly."
"But we aren't siblings."
Nolan shrugs. "It doesn't matter. Everyone else sees you as brother and sister.
Kira gave her a bunch of shit about it, and now, none of the girls in her dorm will talk to her.
And Blythe is here with a bunch of her friends—they were talking to Saige earlier.
Sasha is here, too. All of those people see the two of you as siblings.
Your parents are married; they see you as siblings, too.
If you love her as much as you say you do, then eventually, they're going to find out about you guys. "
I realize that, but I don't give a shit.
We're not fucking related, and to be honest, I can't wait for them to find out that Saige is mine—that she's my perfect little whore and even after everything, she still can't resist my cock.
I can't wait to see Carrie's face when she realizes her daughter belongs to a sick, twisted monster, as Saige says. "You really think that's a big deal?"
"I know it is. We know Saige better than you do, which I realize you don't want to hear, but it's true. Also, most people know you made her life a fucking hell for over two years. You can see how both of those things might make her uncomfortable cuddling up to you in public."
"How do I fix it?"
Nolan raises an eyebrow as he sips his drink. "You're asking me? The guy with an aversion to touch?"
"Well, you say you know her better than I do."
"I do. But I can't fix that problem. Maybe you can't, either—maybe you just have to accept it for what it is."
"Well, I don't fucking like that. I want her to love me. And I want her to act like she fucking loves me."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you, then. Be more lovable."
I shake my head while Dax twirls Saige and then pulls her into his chest. She grabs the waistband of his jeans, her fingers slipping beneath the material, and it makes me want to flip the fucking table.
I don't mind watching him fuck her or shove his cock down her throat—I love seeing her like that. Dax and Nolan are my best friends, and I know it's a little fucked up, but I think they deserve to get to use her body, too, and she deserves to come on them.
But I don't like seeing her touch Dax and kiss him the way she is now. I don't like watching her look at him the way I wish she'd look at me.
I still want to be her entire fucking world, the way she's mine. Better yet, I want to be her fucking sun. I want her to orbit me, to worship me.
I'd fucking worship her.
"She doesn't trust you, either," Nolan says.
I scoff. "I covered up a murder for her—sort of. She should trust me."
"You also sent her a bunch of texts threatening to kill her and used them to keep her a prisoner in your home. You gutted a squirrel and put it in her bed."
"You ate a bird."
"So? It wasn't her bird. I didn't leave it in her bed like a psychopath."
I shake my head. "Whatever."
"I trust you with my life—you know that—but to be honest, I don't completely trust you with Saige, either; not yet anyway."
I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I don't. "I saw her suitcase. How did you get her to move back in?"
Nolan shrugs. "I just told her to."
Of course. "Maybe you and Dax could back off for a while—give us a little space—and I can fix it."
"No. That's not going to happen."
"Why not? You have each other. It's not a big deal."
"It's not like that. Saige isn't extra; no matter how it looks from the outside, there's no third wheel. Anyway, she loves us. She wouldn't want that. She wouldn't be happy."
As Dax takes Saige's hand and leads her back to the bar, Blythe and her roommate stop in front of our booth.
Saige looks back over her shoulder for a second, but quickly turns around.
Her eyes don't hold jealousy the way mine do as I watch her, even though I know she feels possessive of me—I've seen it.
Blythe says something, but it doesn't register. Instead of listening, I watch Dax slide his hand down Saige's back before he slips it into her pocket.
"Elias?"
"I'm sorry—what?" I rake my fingers through my hair and take a swig of my beer.
"I just asked what it was like being the campus hero."
"Oh, right—the Batman thing. It's tiring."