Chapter 19
red
Nolan
When I get back from my physics lab, no one is home.
No one is fucking home.
I throw my keys onto the counter, and they slide onto the floor.
I'm sure they went out. I know Saige feels like a prisoner again, but fuck. Are they trying to kill me?
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Dax, but he doesn't answer. After getting his voicemail, I hang up and call again. I call three times before he finally picks up.
"Hello?"
His voice is raspy, as if I'd woken him up or he'd been drinking. Maybe both.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"I'm…oh, shit."
"Oh, shit? Oh, shit, what?"
"I'm still at the library. Saige and I must have fallen asleep, but—"
There's panic in his voice now, but I don't quite register it. I'm too pissed off. "Fell asleep or passed out?" I ask. "It's after nine o'clock."
"She's gone, Nolan!" he shouts into the phone. "I don't…her coat and her bag are still here, but she's gone. Saige?! Saige!"
"What the fuck, Dax? You lost her again!?"
"No…no, I didn't. I—hold on. Saige?" I hear him knock on a door. "Anyone in here?"
I wait at the end of the line; it sounds like he's in a washroom, pushing open stall doors.
"Dax? Did you find her?"
"No…I found her phone. It's in the toilet."
My hands shake. I want to tear my fucking hair out. "Dax…"
"No, it's okay," he says. "I can find her."
"How? How the fuck can you find her?"
"She was wearing the boots," he says. "Just hold on…fuck!"
The phone falls to the ground. There's some kind of scuffling on the other end of the line.
"Dax! Dax! Fuck!"
Just before I run out the front door toward the library, I hear his voice on the other end of the line.
"Sorry," he says. "I dropped the phone."
Jesus fucking Christ. "Where is she?"
"Um, her shoes are somewhere north. Just off the 99. Wherever she is, she isn't going anywhere. It doesn't look like she's moving."
Not moving isn't good, but I don't say that. "North? How far north?"
"I don't know—far? I can't tell. Well past Squamish."
Fuck. She's been gone for a while.
"Send me the coordinates." I snatch my keys from the kitchen floor and walk out the front door, doing my best to keep my movements calm—to appear normal as not to arise suspicion from the officer parked just a block away.
She could be dead. He could have grabbed her in the library, and when he realized she didn't want to be with him, he could have fucking lost it and killed her.
And it'll be my fault. Because even though all the clues were there, I didn't see it. I didn't want to see it.
I just wanted us all to be happy together. After my fucking shitshow of a life, I actually thought that was possible. What a fucking joke.
"All right," Dax says, "I'm leaving the library now. Come pick me up at—"
"I can't," I tell him as I jump into the Jeep and the engine roars to life. "I'm sorry. I can't. Call me if she moves. I'll see you there. Don't run. Don't draw attention to yourself. The cop is still here."
Before he responds, I end the call.
I can't wait—not when it comes to Saige, not when her life is in someone else's hands. The library is only a fifteen minute walk from the house, and Dax drives fast. He'll catch up.
Fists gripping the wheel and palms sweating, I slowly make my way through the campus streets.
But as soon as I make it to the highway, I look back in the rearview, ensuring I haven't been followed, and then lay on the gas.
I follow the dot on my GPS toward the middle of nowhere, trying not to imagine the worst. But that's what I'm good at, because I've seen it.
I blink, and she's lying dead in a ditch, half-naked, lacerations around her neck.
I blink again, and I'm holding her head in my lap, watching her cough up blood, a knife handle protruding from her abdomen. Her eyes flutter closed, and I'm too late.
When I finally shake that image out of my head, all I find is a pair of boots. No sign of my girl.
My hands shake, my vision blurs. I rub my eyes before wiping sweat from my brow and then turn on some music; I can't have a panic attack right now.
The same playlist I listen to when running blares from the speakers—rock songs from my childhood I memorized every word to, the ones I use to self-soothe whenever I find myself in a dark hole.
Another image flashes in my mind—this time, Saige isn't alone.
Elias stands over her, covered in blood. And I have to kill my best friend. I have to kill the person who saved my life, even when I told him not to.
The GPS shows I have an hour left in this drive, but at this speed, I bet I can make it in forty-five minutes. I can make it forty-five minutes.
I sing along quietly to the playlist, using it to steady my breathing. Each time a song ends, I check the time left in the drive.
I'm making it. Four minutes at a time.
I'm getting close. There should be a road here somewhere. But I don't see it—not until after I pass it.
Shit.
"I think you were supposed to turn there," a voice says from the backseat.
I slam on the breaks, tires squealing as the Jeep fishtails to a stop on the road's narrow shoulder.
"Nolan…"
"Shut the fuck up!"
I get out, slamming the door before opening the back. Then, I grab Elias by his sweatshirt and drag him out of the backseat of my car, throwing him down on the highway.
"Where the fuck is she!?" I don't wait for an answer before my fist meets his face. "I trusted you with her!"
"Stop!" he shouts. "I don't want to hurt you!"
"Yeah?" I punch him again as he scrambles to his feet, knocking him flat on his ass. "I'd like to see you try."
"Nolan!" I hit him again, and he grabs my ankle, pulling my legs out from under me. I land hard on my ass, but I'm back on my feet just as quickly.
So is Elias. Staring me down, just three feet in front of me on the highway—dark aside from my own headlights, nothing else as far as the eye can see.
Except for Saige. Saige is out here…somewhere.
I clench my fists, ready to tear him the fuck apart. "Tell me where the fuck she is. Right. Now."
"I don't fucking know!"
"What did you do to her!?"
"I didn't do anything to her! Do you think if I knew where Saige was, I'd be hiding in the back of your fucking Jeep?! You let him take her, didn't you? While you all were pretending I did this, he got to her."
I charge at him again, but he grabs me, and we struggle, evenly matched, to take each other down.
"Let go of me!" Elias shouts. "You're wasting our fucking time!"
I guess he's right about that. I let him go; he stumbles before righting himself, and we both catch our breath.
"Nolan…" He pauses, his hands on his knees while he gasps for air, blood running from his nose and down his chin. "You know me. I would never hurt Saige. I love her."
"No!" I roar. "I know you, and all you do is hurt Saige!"
"If I had her, I wouldn't leave her. I've been in your car for two fucking days, Nolan! I've been pissing in a goddamn two liter bottle! How the fuck could I have taken her?"
Behind him, an engine roars as headlights tear up the highway. We both jump out of the way before the Maserati pulls over in front of us, and Dax jumps out.
"What the fuck is this?"
"Get in his trunk," I tell Elias.
"What?"
"What? You like hiding in cars, right? If you didn't do it, get in his fucking trunk."
Dax opens the trunk and then moves beside me, crossing his arms in front of him.
"I won't fit!"
"Come on, Elias," Dax says. "We'll make it fit."
He sighs and then slowly moves toward the trunk. "Dax, you're my best friend—"
"Don't. Fucking. Talk to him," I snap. "Get small."
"Fine."
It takes longer than I want, but we finally find a position that should allow us to close the trunk. And it looks hella uncomfortable.
I hope he breaks a fucking bone.
"That should do it," Dax says.
"Wait…" I say before he closes the trunk.
"Thank fuck," Elias starts, "get me out of—"
"Don't. Move."
I stomp off toward my Jeep, opening the back door before searching the backseat with my flashlight.
And there it is—a fucking two liter bottle filled with piss, rolling around on my goddamn floorboards. Gritting my teeth, I grab it and storm toward Dax's car.
I throw the piss bottle as hard as I can, and it hits the trunk lid, the plastic busting before it lands on Elias.
"What the fuck!" he shouts.
Dax hunches over, gagging. "Jesus Christ, the smell! Is that—"
"Close it."
"Wait!"
Dax slams the lid of the trunk, still coughing. "Fuck, my eyes are watering. I'm going to have to get the car detailed again; who knows if that smell will even come out..."
I knock on the trunk. "Can you hear me in there?"
"Yes," Elias mutters.
"You better hope she's fucking okay. If she's not, I'm going to have to kill you…just in case."
"If she's not okay, I'll do it myself."
"Yeah, I'm not falling for that shit. Lead the way," I tell Dax. "Feel free to take the corners extra sharp."
We both back up toward that side road we missed, and I follow Dax further into dark nothingness, closing in on that red pin just off the road, my pulse racing the closer we get.
At least Elias pissed me off enough to stop the panic attack.
What the map showed as just forest turns out to be a self-storage facility…with rows and rows of identical lockers. Dax slows his vehicle, cutting the lights, and I do the same.
How the fuck are we supposed to find Saige here?
Slowly, we turn off onto the gravel, parking behind the first building.
"Fuck," Dax says before slamming his car door. "How are we going to—"
"We need to be quiet," I tell him. "In case there's someone else here."
Dax bangs on the trunk. "Hey, it's a storage facility. Anything you want to tell us, Elias?"
"Yeah. I puked all over your trunk."
Dax shakes his head. "God damn it. Fuck you!"
"Let me out," Elias says. "I can help."
Dax looks to me, raising an eyebrow.
What if he does know where she is? He could lead us right to her.
Or…it could be a trick.