Chapter 17 #2
Neither can Dax. I think he might be crying.
"Dax? Are you okay?"
"I thought I was," he says. "I thought I was fucking angry enough that I didn't care what happened to him, but he was my best friend. This is so fucked."
"Nolan's that angry."
"Yeah…he is. Fuck, I'm so sorry, Saige. For everything. I didn't understand his obsession with you; I didn't know how far he would go or how dangerous it could be, and it hurt you…more than once. I just hope they find him and lock his crazy ass up; I don't want him to fucking die."
"I don't, either. I still love him."
"Yeah, me too."
He turns, wrapping his arms around me. "But whatever happens, he chose this for himself, you know that, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"If he dies, it's not your fault, Saige."
I sniffle, blinking back tears. "Yeah…I know."
But I don't quite believe that. He better not fucking die.
Eventually, Dax falls asleep, but I don't. I can't turn my mind off; and every single creak the house makes has my heart in my throat, wondering if it's Elias, who somehow made it home, trying to get inside.
I should have told Dax to leave food and blankets on the porch.
I slip out from under Dax's arm, taking my phone with me to use the bathroom, and then instead of going back to bed with them, I walk into Nolan's room and stare at his fish tank.
The one I watch now is a Coral Blue Angel—just like the one Miles crushed beneath his boot.
And the one he served me as a sandwich in my nightmare.
How the hell did I get here? How the fuck did any of this happen?
I take out my phone and open my camera. I look like shit, but what do I care? I'm barely visible in the light of the fish tank, anyway, so I hit record.
"I don't know if you'll see this," I start.
"You probably won't, but if you do, please, just come home and turn yourself in.
I'm not mad at you; I just want you to be safe.
We just want to help you, Elias. We miss you…
your dad misses you. Please, just go with them before you get hurt. It'll all be okay."
I add it to my stories, and then sit, watching the fish, until my eyes grow heavy and I begin nodding off. Then, I move to the other bedroom—into the space between them, curling up against Dax's back.
My story was viewed and shared tens of thousands of times—everyone at West Pine and beyond must have seen it.
It's all anyone can talk about…again. West Pine Batman turned out to be fucking Two Face.
Nolan skipped his workout and escorted me to history and psychology, even though I insisted that I didn't need him to do that.
He sat beside me like an angry bodyguard clad in black sweats, black-framed glasses, and Timberlands, arms crossed in front of his body, catching the attention of anyone who dared look my way.
Which was almost everyone—turning and whispering, Oh, my god, that's her. And then, inevitably, they looked right back at the floor, and I know why.
It's the void—the dark nothingness behind his eyes. It used to scare me, too. But that was before I understood him. Now, I could live there.
When we get to psychology, Miles sits at the desk in the front corner of the room, as always. But this time, he has a laptop open in front of him. He doesn't look at me, and he doesn't look at Nolan.
I wonder if he's gloating or mourning. I never find out, and if Nolan can tell, he doesn't say anything.
"Do you want to grab something to eat before I walk you home?" Nolan asks after we leave.
"No, there's still pizza…with extra jalapenos. That's better than anything they have at the food court."
"Okay," he says, taking my hand. "I like that better, anyway."
After we get back to the house, Nolan checks the locks on all the windows and doors, and then grabs his stuff for class.
"Make sure you set the alarm after I leave," he tells me. "Dax should be back in about thirty minutes."
He offered to stay, but I know he has a big test. He can't miss it.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"I think I'll be okay for half an hour in the middle of the afternoon," I say. "You can't treat me like this forever."
Nolan raises an eyebrow before closing the space between us. "Watch me."
He leans in, kissing me, his tongue exploring my mouth briefly before pulling away.
"Set the alarm."
"Yes, sir."
He holds my chin between his thumb and first finger. "That's a good way to end up in handcuffs, Saige."
"I know."
"I'll see you when I get home."
He leaves, and after setting the alarm as instructed, I grab a couple of pieces of pizza from the fridge and toss them into the microwave. While they heat up, I fill a glass of water, but as I bring it to my lips, Arcadia barks in the otherwise silent house, startling me.
I drop the glass, watching it shatter at my feet.
"Shit!"
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and then kneel on the floor, my hands shaking as I gather the pieces.
The microwave beeps, and I jump again, cutting my thumb. Maybe I should have asked Nolan to stay—clearly, I don't have my shit together.
After tossing the glass shards, I rinse my thumb under cold water and then bring it to my lips, sucking the small cut until I no longer taste copper.
Like when the knife nicked my throat, it's small—not much bigger than a paper cut—but bleeds a lot. I squeeze it, watching blood pool again before running down my palm and past my wrist.
I think of how Elias licked blood from my palm in the hotel—how he sucked it from my neck before smearing it all over my tits with his lips. And then he told me I looked fucking beautiful like that—pathetic and bloody. He told me he didn't know what he would do if he couldn't have me.
I still want to believe it wasn't him, but he's shown me what he would do if he didn't get what he wanted, didn't he? With text messages, manipulation, and lies.
Probably with a gun in that alley, too.
Maybe after everything he'd done, I needed to believe he loved me—like a salve for a wound I didn't know how to heal.
Blood drips from my elbow onto my shoes, snapping me out of my haze. Sighing, I run it under the water again, and then grab a bandage from the bathroom.
I finally take my pizza out of the microwave and sit on the couch, but Arcadia barks at me again.
When I look up, she's beside the sliding door, wagging her tail.
Of course. She wants to go out. I should have thought about that before Nolan left.
I could make her wait until Dax gets home, but that's a little ridiculous, isn't it?
"Okay…hold on, Arcadia," I tell her, moving toward the alarm panel.
I disable it with the new code and then open the back door.
But Arcadia doesn't run out. Instead, Elias darts inside.
I almost don't recognize him. He's dirty, with mud all over his hands, his pants, and in his hair. The skin around his knuckles is broken and bloody and his lips are severely chapped from the cold and likely dehydration. Handcuffs still hang from his right wrist.
"Jesus," he says. "I thought you were never going to open the fucking door."
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Eyes widening, I take a few steps back.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," he says gently. "Come on, Saige…"
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I—Saige, I live here. I'm here for you."
"You need to…you have to turn yourself in."
"You don't believe them, do you?" He takes another step toward me, and I move backward, but the back of my legs hit the coffee table.
"You know I love you. I know I've done some fucked up shit, Saige, but I would never hurt you like that.
You can't think that about me." He closes the space between us, cupping my face in his hands.
"God, you're beautiful. I missed you so much. "
"Elias, what do you want? You can't be here."
"I just want you," he tells me. "I have a car—"
"You mean you stole a car." I tear up, pushing him away. "Elias, this keeps getting worse. You have to—"
"I know. I know. But I can fix this. Just…grab a few things, and we'll just go. Just for a little while. It's going to be okay; I promise. I know what to do."
He's lost it. He's lost his fucking shit—I can see it in his eyes. Whatever was left of his sanity…it's gone now.
I nod, whispering, "Okay."
Elias smiles before kissing me. "Thank you." He kisses me again. "Thank you, baby. Hurry up, okay? Dax will be back soon."
"I'll just…be right back. Um, you should drink some water."
My legs move like lead through the first floor of the townhouse, tears welling in my eyes. Instead of going to the bedroom to pack, I dart into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Letting out a sob, I slide down the door as I pull my phone from my pocket.
It won't recognize my face, and I struggle with shaky hands to type in my passcode.
"Saige?!" Elias shouts, banging on the door. "Saige, what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," I cry, finally unlocking it on the third try. "I'm sorry, Elias. You need help. Don't be mad at me."
"Fuck! Saige! Come on, please! Please don't do this!"
"I love you," I tell him, choking on the words.
"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"
"This is Saige Ripley," I tell the woman on the other end of the line as Elias's footsteps retreat toward the back door. "And he's here. Elias is here. Please don't hurt him."