But I barely hear him over the blood pumping in my ears.
"Saige? Give me the phone."
I hand it to him and turn in the other direction, hugging my knees to my chest.
Nolan sighs. "Okay, I blocked them, but…I'm sure it'll just pop up with a new number again. Don't text them back—ever, okay? You have to let this starve. Don't give them what they want."
"How do I know what they want if I don't ask them?"
"They want to play a game. Don't play it. Promise me, okay? You could get us all in trouble, and I don't think you want that."
I think there's a threat hidden there somewhere. "Okay…I promise."
"Saige, did anyone see you that night? Did the two of you stop to talk to anyone?"
I shrug. "No. I mean, people may have seen me leave the party with him and this girl who lives across the hall from me, Kira."
"Then it's her."
"No," I insist. "It's not her. Why would she care? Why would she do all of this?"
"Maybe she really saw you."
"And she wants revenge? She wants to kill me?"
"Unlikely. Whoever it is, they're probably working their way up to asking you for money."
"What—"
"Miles isn't the kind of person people miss, Saige."
"I don't even have any money."
"Dax has money. Has she seen you with him?"
"I…Kira is not a criminal mastermind. She's a party girl from Calgary majoring in fashion merchandising and peace studies. And she was trashed that night—I put her to bed myself. She didn't see anything."
"Has this person evertold you what theyknowyou did?"
"I don't think so…"
The garage door opens before I can argue further. I throw back the rest of my drink as the Maserati's engine shuts off and, wincing, force it down just before Elias steps inside, Dax following behind him.
"Heard you were late," Elias grumbles without looking at me.
I narrow my eyes at Nolan. "You tattled on me."
He shrugs.
"Hey, princess," Dax says, flashing me a smile.
Seeing him does something to me—something I can't quite explain. I feel relief. I know what he's done; I know it isn't right, but I feel safer now that he's here.
But it's not just that. I feel this longing…right at the center of my chest. I want him to hold me like he held me in bed last night; I want to melt into him.
It makes me sick. There's something wrong with me.
I quickly look away before he sees it, that sense of longing replaced with shame.
