Chapter 30
ETHAN
The mountain doesn’t care why you’re here.
That’s what Tony says as we drop into another run—voice muffled through his helmet, casual on purpose, like he’s not watching me out of the corner of his eye every five seconds.
“Breathe, E,” he calls back. “Just ski.”
So I do.
I point my tips downhill and let gravity take me. Powder explodes up around my knees. Wind claws at my face. My thighs burn, my lungs scream, and for a few seconds—just a few—the noise in my head finally shuts the hell up.
No Sage.
No house.
No aftermath.
Just speed.
At the bottom, I skid to a stop hard enough to spray snow. Tony pulls up beside me, grinning, claps my shoulder.
“There he is,” he says. “Told you this trip would help.”
I almost believe him.
Then my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Once.
I ignore it.
Twice.
Something in my gut tightens.
I pull it out.
Beth.
I don’t even tell Tony I’m answering. I just step away, boots crunching, and swipe the screen.
“Hey—” I start.
“She’s in your house.”
The world lurches.
“What?”
“Sage,” Beth says. Her voice is shaking. “She broke in. She’s there right now. Vermont. Your house.”
My breath leaves my body in one sharp burst.
“What?” I say automatically. “How could she know—I’m out of the country.”
“It wasn’t me this time,” she whispers. “But these things have a way of getting out. Does anyone in Vermont know? Maybe the bartender at The Ski Shack?”
Cold seeps straight through my gloves.
Shit.
“What is she doing?” I ask.
Beth starts talking.
And my brain fills in the rest without asking permission.
Basement.
Water climbing the concrete walls.
Towels shoved into drains like hands over a screaming mouth.
“She flooded it,” Beth says. “Basement. Bathrooms. Everything.”
Hardwood warping. Buckling. The oak floors I spent weeks restoring, swelling and splitting under filthy water.
Glass shatters in the background.
I flinch.
“She smashed things,” Beth continues. “And— Ethan— she’s upstairs now. In your bedroom.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“She said she stripped naked,” Beth whispers. “Rolled around in your bed. Said she smells like you.”
I shut my eyes.
See it anyway.
“She cut your mattress open,” Beth says. “Feathers everywhere.”
Fire crackles over the line.
“She’s burning your clothes. In the firepit.”
I drag a hand down my face, snow melting into my beard.
“She thinks you’ll come home,” Beth says, breaking now, “and fuck her on the ruins.”
“No,” I say hoarsely. “No. That’s not—”
Tony’s voice cuts in, sharp with instinct. “Ethan?”
I turn toward him, phone still pressed to my ear. “She’s in my house.”
His expression hardens instantly. Protector mode. No questions.
“Hang up. Call Seth,” he says. “Now.”
I already am.
Seth answers on the first ring.
“She’s there,” I say. “My house. Go. Now.”
“I’m ten minutes out,” he replies. “I’ll call you when I’m inside.”
The wait is unbearable.
Tony doesn’t leave my side. We stand there in the storm, skis forgotten, watching white erase the mountain while my phone feels like a live wire in my hand.
Then it rings.
“I’m inside. Have been for about six minutes,” Seth says. His voice is tight. “Front door was unlocked.”
Of course it was.
“There’s water everywhere,” he continues. “Basement’s a mess. Towels jammed into the sink like she meant to flood it.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” Seth says. “In your bedroom. Wearing your flannel.”
My jaw locks.
“She won’t leave,” he goes on. “Keeps saying you told her to come. Keeps saying you’ll be home tonight.”
“I didn’t,” I say.
“I know,” Seth replies. Then, quieter: “Ethan… I don’t know if she’s on something. Or if she didn’t take her meds. But man— I’ve known her a long time. I know Tony and the guys would say she’s crazy, we’d sit around the fire pit, drink beers, laugh it off.”
A pause.
“But this?” He exhales hard. “This is next level, bro.”
A crash sounds faintly through the phone. Not violent—just careless. Like nothing matters.
“She tried to light another pile of clothes,” Seth says. “I stopped her. She screamed like I was attacking her.”
That’s it.
“Call the police,” I say immediately.
No debate. No hesitation.
I have the phone on speaker.
Tony’s head snaps up beside me. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches my face.
“There’s water everywhere,” Seth continues. I hear footsteps, sloshing. “Basement’s flooded. Towels shoved into the sink like she wanted it to happen. I shut it all off but…”
My chest tightens.
“Where is she?” I ask.
A pause.
Then—
“She’s back upstairs.”
My jaw locks.
“In your bedroom,” he adds. “Wearing your flannel.”
The wind howls across the ridge, sharp and endless. I can barely feel my fingers.
“She keeps saying you told her to come,” Seth says. “Keeps saying you’re on your way home. That she has a key and is welcomed here She denies breaking in and the windows aren’t broken—yet.”
“I didn’t invite her or give her a key.” I say hoarsely.
“I know.”
Something crashes in the background. Not explosive—just careless. Like a lamp knocked over and ignored.
“She’s not making sense,” Seth goes on. “I don’t know if she’s on something, or if she didn’t take her meds, but—”
A voice cuts through the line.
High. Sharp. Feral.
“—WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?”
My blood turns to ice.
“Is that him?” Sage shrieks in the background. “IS THAT ETHAN?”
“Seth?” I say urgently.
“She’s coming toward me,” he mutters. “Sage—hey—back up—”
Footsteps pound. Too fast. Too close.
“GIVE ME THE PHONE!” she screams.
My stomach drops straight through my body.
“Ethan?” Tony says sharply. “What’s happening?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
Through the phone, I hear a struggle. Fabric rustling. Seth grunting as he stumbles back.
“Is that you?” Sage yells, manic now, thrilled. “ETHAN, YOU’RE SKIING? WITH THAT HOAR? YOU CHEATING BASTARD! I SAW YOUT CALL LOGS.”
Seth snaps. “Back the fuck up—”
Something thuds hard. A body hitting a wall.
“She’s hitting me,” Seth says, breathless. “She’s trying to grab the phone.”
“Ethan?” Sage shrieks again, closer now. “COME HOME! COME BACK TO ME. NO ONE TOUCHES YOU LIKE I DO. SHE CAN NEVER BE ME.”
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
“Seth,” I say. “Get out. Now.”
“I’m trying—is this a psychotic break down? Does she have a history?”
Another crash. A sharp intake of breath.
“Give it to me!” Sage screams. “LET ME TALK TO HIM!”
The sound cuts abruptly—wind, then muffled chaos.
Then—
A car door slams.
The sound changes instantly. Closed. Hollow. Safe.
Seth’s breathing fills the line. Ragged. Fast.
“I’m in the car,” he pants. “I locked the doors.”
Through the phone, faint but unmistakable, I hear her.
Screaming.
Pounding on metal.
“ETHAN!” she wails. “ETHAN, COME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!”
My vision tunnels.
“I’m calling the police,” Seth says, already dialing. “Right now.”
“Do it,” I say. My voice sounds distant to my own ears. “Don’t hang up.”
Sirens aren’t there yet—but I can hear Sage outside the car, sobbing now, then laughing, then screaming again. Hands slapping glass. Nails scraping.
“You promised me!” she screams. “YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!”
Tony’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, hard enough to ground me.
“Stay with me,” he says quietly.
I force myself to breathe.
“She keeps asking if it’s you,” Seth says. “She’s saying—”
The police dispatcher cuts in faintly on his end.
And Sage—still screaming—still convinced this destruction is devotion.
I stare out at the mountain, at the white swallowing everything whole, and understand something with sickening clarity:
This wasn’t about my house.
Or the breakup.
Or even me.
This was about being heard.
And she would burn the world down to make sure she was.
The line goes dead.
Not a clean click.
A jagged, swallowed sound—like the call was ripped out by the roots.
“Seth?” I say.
Nothing.
I stare at my phone like if I look hard enough, it’ll start screaming again.
It doesn’t.
Something caves in my chest.
I don’t sit down so much as collapse—knees buckling, body folding in on itself in front of the stone fireplace at the ski lodge bar. Heat roars at my back. The smell of whiskey and wet wool presses in from all sides.
And I break.
It comes out of me ugly. Loud. Uncontrolled. A sound I don’t recognize until I realize it’s mine—raw sobbing that wrenches through my ribs like something is being torn free. My hands fist in my jacket. My head drops forward.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t stop.
The bar goes dead quiet.
No one moves.
I feel it more than see it—shock rippling outward. These men have seen me pulled out of smoke and rubble. Have seen me bleed and keep going. Have seen me stand upright when things were falling apart.
This?
This is different.
“She broke him,” Mark mutters, not quietly enough. His voice is thick with disbelief. “Jesus Christ. Fucking Sage.”
Dan exhales hard behind him. “That wasn’t just a fight. That was a psychotic breakdown.”
I don’t hear most of it. Everything is rushing. My ears ring. My chest hurts so bad it feels like pressure—like being crushed again, like being buried.
Tony is there without me seeing him move.
One hand comes down firm on my back—solid, anchoring. The other slides up, covering my eyes, holding my forehead like he’s trying to keep my skull from splitting open.
“Hey,” he murmurs. Low. Steady. “Hey. I got you.”
I sob harder.
He pulls me in then—no hesitation—dragging me up and into his chest, a full bear hug, arms locked around my shoulders like he’s bracing against a wave.
“I got you, man,” he says again, voice breaking now. “I got you.”
My hands clutch at his jacket like a lifeline.
“I’m calling my uncle,” Tony says, already shifting into motion even as he holds me. “I should’ve done this months ago. We’re putting a PI on her. Everything. Background, history, medical, the mother—if there’s a pattern, we’re finding it.”
He swallows.
“If she’s done this before, we’re getting a protective order. No debate.”
His grip tightens.