"But he didn't. Everything I turned in, I either got an F or the assignment was marked as not turned in, and the professor only accepted late work for half credit, so I failed those, too. When she offered me extra credit, I turned it into her office, but of course, Miles got there first, and she never received it. I couldn't go to someone whining that I was getting bullied by fuckingMiles, right? So, I dragged him out of a bar one night and told him that if he didn't fucking fix it, I was going to make him sorry. When grades came out, and I got an F, I started talking to his fiancé online. A month later, I started sleeping with her…and then, I made sure he caught us together."
"Jesus, Elias…"
"Well, what? He fucked with me. Am I just supposed to let him get away with it?"
I shake my head. "You're asking me—of all people? How much shit have you been allowed to get away with over the years? Your ego was always going to get you in trouble in the real world eventually, so yes, you should have just taken the L."
My heart rate picks up a little. I wonder if maybe I've pushed him too far again.
He sighs. "I'm not even done, Saige. Can you please just shut up and let me finish?"
I cross my arms in front of me and lean back in my seat.
"If I'd known he was beating her, I wouldn't have done it; I swear I wouldn't have."
"Elias…what the fuck?"
"After that, he reported her missing. He said she left a note, but her family doesn't believe him. Police didn't find any foul play, but several people close to her said he was hitting her. It doesn't make sense that she'd just leave them and never contact them again. They were close."
"Jesus, Elias. You think you got this woman killed?!"
"I know he killed her. You met him—you said he was going to beat our dog to death with a fire poker, Saige. You don't think that's the kind of person who's capable of something like that?"
"Why would you tell me all of this?"
"I don't know. I guess I feel like…" He pauses, tousling his hair again before sinking further into the couch. "Like maybe I went too far with you a couple of times, and it's made me feel…weird. And so, I thought I owed you something."
"Owed me something?"
"Now you don't have to feel bad about killing him. You don't have to worry about his friends or family or people he loved missing him. Because he killed a girl, and her family does miss her, and it didn't bother him at all. No one misses Miles. No one has even noticed he's gone. Okay?"
"Okay."
A knock at the door causes me to jump, and Elias stands, curling his hands into fists.
"Oh, it's just the food we ordered. I'll get it."
And then I feel really weird for using the wordwe. Embarrassed, even.
I get up to grab it, and as I turn the deadbolt, Elias says, "At least check the peephole first, for fuck's sake."
He makes a decent point.
I peer out onto the porch, and sure enough, no one is there—just a couple of white paper bags on the doormat. I open the door and grab both, tucking them under one arm so I can grab our beer from the counter with the other, awkwardly passing Elias on my way to the staircase.
"Good night, Saige," he says to my back.
It's the weirdest fucking thing I've ever heard come out of his mouth. I decide to ignore it, the air in the space between us suddenly thick and uncomfortable.
I don't breathe again until I'm safely on the other side of Dax's door.
"There you are," he says. "What took you so long?"
"I dried my hair, and then I waited for the food." It isn't entirely untruthful.
"Good thinking," he says. Then he gets up, walks toward the bathroom, and opens the door. "Hey, Nolan. The food's here."
I thought that was a lot of food.
