"There you go," Dax says. "Problem solved."
"I'm going to run to the gym—"
"He means that literally, by the way," Dax interrupts. "He's an insane person."
Nolan scoffs, taking his plate to the kitchen while continuing. "And then we'll leave when I get back."
"I have to go, too. I'm supposed to meet everyone at the house to get ready. Wait until you see how good I look in my tux, baby; I'll send you a picture."
I grab both of our plates and get up so he can go, loading them into the dishwasher before grabbing a trash bag from under the sink.
"Wait a second." Dax grabs me by the back of my hair, turning my head toward him before kissing me on the lips. "See you later, Ripley."
When I turn around, Elias is gone, too. But he left his plate and coffee mug on the table.
Exhaling sharply, I grab them from the table, rinse them, and load them into the dishwasher, too. Then, I grab my headphones, put the newest YUNGBLUD album on, and clean up the rest of the house.
After I finish, I curl up in bed, spending the next hour or so listening to music and scrolling social media, my eyelids heavy. I wonder if maybe I have time to nap before Nolan gets back.
Before I set my phone aside and close my eyes, I'm flooded with text notifications, one after another.
They keep going…and going. I probably receive thirty separate pictures before they finally stop. I scroll to the top, my heart in my throat.
When I get my hands on you, I'm going to teach you how to deep throat a knife.
The last girl didn't like it very much. But I think you know you deserve it, Saige. After what you did.
There's a photo of me at the party last night, and then a dead animal. Another photo of me at the party, and then a dead animal. And on. And on. And on.
There must be at least twenty separate blurry photos, all taken from the backyard through the sliding glass door. The last is of me sitting on Dax's lap in the living room this morning.
It takes the air right out of my lungs.
The door was open this morning.
I shoot up in bed.My dog.They were out there with my dog.
The door isstillopen right now.
Adrenaline surges through me, my hands shaking, and I drop my phone on the bed.
I have to close the fucking door.
I step out into the hall, scanning the area, terrified that I'm not alone down here. I rip off my headphones, letting them fall to the floor, and run into the kitchen, indiscriminately pulling a knife from the knife block on the counter.
"Elias?!" I call out.
But his own music blares in his bedroom. He's not going to hear me.
Gripping the knife tightly in my fist, I make my way to the open door.
Arcadia's in the yard, stretched in the grass under the sun.
I step outside, scanning the small, fenced-in space. "Arcadia!" I call, my voice cracking. "Arcadia, come on, let's go inside!"
She gets up, running toward me and the open door. I exhale in relief, but then a hand falls on my shoulder.
I scream, turning with the knife in my hand.
