Chapter 15
a man with a van is a man with a plan
Dax
"Iknow the plan. We don't need to go over the plan again," I tell Nolan.
I don't think I'd describe him as nervous, but he's antsy. He's barely sat still the entire day.
Whatever is going on with his nervous system hasn't been bad for me, though. We spent the afternoon trying to fuck it out of him. It may have worked for about an hour or so, but now he's pacing the living room, sweat beading just below his hairline.
"We could trade, you know. I could be the one to—"
"No, I'm stronger than you. And I want to do it."
I purse my lips. "I think we're equally strong."
Nolan stops his pacing to make a face.
"Fine. Whatever. I'm taller," I relent.
He sits beside me, and I hold out my hand. "Cell phone."
He hands me his iPhone, and I give him the burner.
"Saige hates it here," he says.
Ah, that's what's bothering him. Makes sense—because he's been frothing at the mouth to murder this guy for a week now.
"Nah, she doesn't. Saige is happy."
"A lot of bad shit happened to her here. Everyone who's ever hurt her is here."
"Everyone who's ever hurt her is Elias. Saige isn't going to leave, Nolan."
"She might. If she thinks she's a third wheel, she might."
"She doesn't feel that way. She loves us. Quite frankly, I don't think Elias will go, either. He loves us, too."
Nolan scoffs. "It's everything he's ever wanted. Of course, he'll leave."
"He wants Saige more, and she won't leave. You need to get your head right. Are we still okay to do this tonight?"
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'm good. This is the one thing I can do for her. I might be a shitty boyfriend, but I can drop a body at her fucking feet for her."
"Hey—" I grab his chin. "Don't call my boyfriend a shitty boyfriend. You're an excellent fucking boyfriend…with sexy fucking lips." I pause, kissing him. "And a big dick…"
I reach between his legs, stroking his dick outside his sweatpants, feeling it grow rock solid with my touch while I pull at with his lower lip with my teeth.
"We don't have time for this again," he groans.
"I have time to take care of you," I tell him. "And it seems like you need it."
I kneel between his legs, working his sweats and boxer briefs over his hips. His dick lies hard against his stomach, and I take it in my hand, pumping it.
Nolan throws his head back, looking up at the ceiling while I work him—sliding my fist over his length, spending extra time on the thick tip. I stare at his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob when he swallows.
"You're so fucking sexy. I can't wait to watch you crush his fucking skull with your bare hands." His dick pulses, cum leaking from the tip, and I know I hit the right button.
I know him. I know the dark corners of his mind.
I know there's a part of him that's quietly violent—a part that aches to make people hurt the way he hurt.
He has a better moral compass than Elias and me; he knows it's wrong to feel the way he does, and so he runs and pushes his body to the fucking brink instead.
It's noble, really. A lesser man would let the violence win; anyone with eyes in their fucking heads can see the bloodlust in him.
But if they deserve it, on the other hand…that's something else entirely.
"You're not just going to drop his body at her fucking feet," I continue, "you're going to make him unrecognizable to his fucking family. You're going to be the last thing he sees before the light leaves his eyes. How does that feel?"
"Feels like I'm going to fucking come," he growls.
"Good boy…" I lick my lips and then take him in my mouth, slowly sucking him from base to tip.
Nolan hisses through his teeth. "Fuck…"
"And when we're finished cutting him into fucking pieces, and your dick is throbbing like this again—I'll be ready to take you again, too."
I pump him with one hand while I hollow my cheeks around his dick, taking my time with the tongue around the tip, already tasting cum on my tongue
Then, I cup his balls with my free hand, and he groans, grabbing the back of my neck. He lifts his hips, thrusting into my mouth while I work him.
"Fuck, Dax. Your fucking mouth…"
It's a powerful feeling—making someone so controlled fucking lose it like this. His dick pulses in my hand and mouth, and I know I'm about to be rewarded with his cum.
He groans loudly, shoving his cock into the back of the throat, and I suck him dry, swallowing around him as cum pools on my tongue—until he can't take it anymore and pulls it from my lips.
"Jesus…" he says breathlessly, cum still beading at the tip.
He must have really fucking needed that.
Now, I'm hard as a fucking rock, but I don't mind a little delayed gratification—I have a feeling it's going to be worth it.
In the days after he kicked Miles off the cliff, he was insatiable.
He couldn't get enough of my dick…and couldn't wait to sink into Saige's pussy.
"I bet you feel better now, don't you, my little psychopath?" I ask, sliding my hands over his abs.
"Who are you calling little?"
"You're right—there's nothing little about you. Now, is there anything else you need? If you really want to, we can go over the plan again, but I promise, I know what I'm doing."
"No—it's all right. I do feel better now. I'm good to go."
"Good. I love you," I tell him. "Let's go kill this fucking asshole and save our family. Right?"
"Yeah. Right."
He changes and then he leaves through the backdoor, cutting through the yards until he reaches the street a couple of blocks over. After that, he'll stick to the shadows and keep his head down until he gets to the alley where he parked his Jeep hours ago.
In a quiet spot just outside of campus, surrounded by trees—with a foreclosed barber shop on the right and an empty row house on the left.
That alley also happens to be part of the route between the psychology building and Miles's apartment.
On the weekends, he keeps office hours for Professor Whitmore from five to ten.
Most nights, he stops at the food court afterward, and—according to Nolan—leaves with massive paper bags of food, as if he does his grocery shopping there.
I give him about twenty minutes to get into position, and then I take out our phones and start texting…myself. If by chance someone does try to paint Nolan as the hooded figure in some grainy doorbell camera, it'll fuck with their timeline.
Are you out of the shower yet?
Yes.
Why'd you have to lock the bathroom door? I was hard as soon as I heard the water turn on.
It's unlocked now…
Be right there.
Then, I pour myself a couple of shots.
My role is simple. I'll get to campus just before ten, watch Miles leave the psych building and the food court, and keep Nolan updated on the timeline.
When he leaves, possibly with a shit ton of food, I'll follow from a few blocks away—just close enough to keep him in my sights and to intervene in time if Nolan needs it, but not nearly close enough to draw suspicion.
Before I can head out the back, my fucking phone rings.
I don't know why I go back for it; I never answer my goddamn phone. But I get this feeling—this fucking sinking feeling that something's wrong, and that's never happened to me before.
What if it's Saige?
My dad's name scrolls across the screen.
Sighing, I answer the call. "What is it? I'm on my way out."
"I just got a call from a lawyer friend of mine, and he told me the police obtained a warrant to search one of my properties."
I shrug. "So? What's that have to do with me?"
"Well, son, it's the property you live in."
"What? Why the fuck would the police search my house?"
"Do you know a woman named Isla Reid?"
Fuck. "No."
"Make sure you're more convincing when the cops come to the house tomorrow. They think Elias has something to do with her disappearance. If there's anything you need to tell me, you better do it now."
"I never met her. But Elias didn't have anything to do with that."
"Her fiancé found a tablet he didn't know she had and turned it into police.
Apparently, she'd been using it to communicate with Elias right before she disappeared.
And his messages stop the day she goes missing.
He never tried to contact her after that.
They think he attacked his stepsister, too—that maybe she was supposed to be next. "
"He didn't attack Saige, either. Let them come, I guess, but thanks for the call. I'll get rid of the hard drugs."
"I can't tell if you're joking, Dante, but I assure you, this isn't a joke."
"Well, it kind of is, though, isn't it? He didn't do this shit. It was the fiancé with the fake amnesia." Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. If they've found a connection between Elias and Miles right when we're about to… "I have to go."
"I know Elias is in Toronto; that's why I called," Dad says. "You can't warn him. He did this, son. If you had nothing to do with this, you have to let it play out. Protect yourself."
"But he had nothing to do with it, either. He saved Saige."
"That girl isn't a reliable witness, and they know it.
She didn't actually see anything other than a large man in a mask grabbing her foot.
She thought she had heard a scuffle; she assumed there had been a struggle.
She had a head injury, and the officer who interviewed her at the hospital fed her some of the details from Elias's interview to help jog her memory. "
"That's not what happened. Look, thanks for the call, and I'm kind of joking about the drugs, but I really have to go."
"He rented a van."
"What?"
"Elias rented a white van the day before Halloween—a Ford E-Series. If you're so sure, what did he use the van for?"
"I—" I check the time on the clock—9:59 PM. Shit. "I have to go."
"Dax, if your hands are dirty in this in any way…"
"I don't kill women. I have to fucking go!"
I end the call and throw the phone across the room. "Fuck!"
Instead of leaving through the back, I pick up my burner phone and call Nolan.