by Bry Ann
But mostly, I don’t.
Honestly, when I look at her the never-ending well of pain sitting in those big green eyes of hers is what I see most.
Ding!
Normally, I’d check that text immediately, but with her curled up in the passenger seat next to me, everyone who needs me is gonna have to wait for a freakin’ red light. Finally, we run into one. I quickly glance at my phone, not missing how Sage subtly watches my movements. It’s Aaron, my father, via his lacky, since he’s currently in person for life for the death of over forty men, women, and children. Yep, my good ol’ dad’s a serial killer and I’m his pet. A title I can never seem to escape.
Rod: Where the hell are you?
With a growl, I throw my phone down in the cupholder. I fucking told Rod I’m doing shit today. He was supposed to handle my father. I can’t trust any of these men.
Sage freezes, sensing my anger.
“It’s okay, Sage. It’s just my dad. You know how I get when it comes to him.”
Cause, well, she does. She’s very perceptive.
“What does he want?” she mumbles. If I’m not wrong, I detect a little bit of anger there, which makes my lip curl up.
“Nothing to worry about.”
“Well, I’m worried,” she snaps. I’m just glad she’s not terrified anymore. She slowly uncurls. She’s still tucked up, but it’s not as closed off as before.
“He’s an asshole. Not worth worrying about.”
“But… your eyes look sad when you talk about him.”
“Okay…” I whistle, feeling my muscles stiffen. “As much fun as having my soul read is, maybe you could, like… not.”
“Right, I’m sorry.” She frowns and shakes her head. “What’s wrong with me? You never do that to me.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up. He’s just a tense subject for me.”
“I get it. I’m sorry.”
I pull up to my usual parking spot, park the car, and turn to her.
“Stop apologizing. I think you’ll find there’s very little that bothers me.”
She smiles a little at that. “I’m realizing that. You’re… very chill.”
“I’m nineteen goin’ on sixty. I’ve lived a lot of life, and with that, you realize there’s not a whole lot of shit that actually matters.”
“I wish I could be like that.”
She picks at the leather on my seat, which makes me cringe, but I don’t have the heart to say anything.
“You had stuff done to you to take away your power. I was the one doing the stuff. Big difference.”
“I somehow really doubt that.”
What the fuck is wrong with this girl? It takes everything in me to school my expression and not scowl at her.
“Let me show you around. I was thinking today we could kick it at my place, keep the lights low, eat, and just let you get used to… well, everything.”
She visibly exhales nearly all her air, collapsing forward straight into the console.
“That sounds amazing. Thank you.”
“Long day, huh?” I call, climbing out of the car. She does the same, except I don’t get a response from her. Given her previous reaction to coming outside, that makes me nervous. I mean, I’m nineteen. I’m no parent. I view her more as a friend than anything else. I don’t even know what all she’s been through. I’m not sure she knows how long she’s been away, but it’s been over half a year.
I saw her twice during that time. The beginning, where I did nothing out of fucking fear of my father. Fear because I was on another gig. My father knew what these men were doing and sent me in. If I fucked it up, I faced his wrath. Why listen? Easy.
One, it’s all I know. I’ve been beaten and mind-fucked into obeying him since birth. Two, if I fuck up, I have a sister who he’d absolutely hurt to get me in line. Maybe not kill, but still, not a chance I was willing to take, seeing as I’ve never met her. I’ve never been allowed to.
So I couldn’t do anything. I just had to play it smart. If I saved her that day, I couldn’t save anyone else and would likely get my sister and the other girls hurt in retaliation. I wanted to be able to save at least a handful of women, if not take down the whole operation. I soon realized it was much bigger than even my capabilities. The ring would take years for the FBI to disband, let alone me. So I made it my mission to save Sage and the two women under protection: Pamela and Tammy.
I was too late.
Ever-fighting Pamela was dead, Tammy’s mind had split, and Sage was beaten to all hell, nearly killed.
“Yes,” Sage whispers, coming around the car, cutting me out of my spiraling thoughts of self-hate.
Seeing her face, I relax. “I’ll give you a tour,” I tell her.
“And you’ll feed me.”
“Yes, and I’ll feed you,” I laugh.
I go grab all the shit her dad gave me for her stay, somehow really doubting Sage would want all this shit. But hey, I’ll give her the option.
“Oh my gosh, they gave you all that?” Sage shrieks. “They told me they packed modestly!”
She’s full-on blushing, hands covering her face, the whole thing. I chuckle.
“He’s got you fully covered, apparently.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“I have plenty of space for all your shit. No biggie.”
“I don’t use that much!”
“Sage?”
“Just… just leave some in your car. I'll give it back when I see them.”
“You may need something in there. You never know. I’m telling you, I’m a single dude. I have plenty of space. Don’t stress.”
Sage goes timid at that. She stops talking, grabs a small bag, and stands behind me. I don’t know why she shut down, but I’ll let her work through it in her head. I know she will. The only thing that makes me nervous is she’s still so tiny and unwell that I don’t like her carrying the bag. Her arm is shaking hard, but God forbid I take it from her. I know she’d flip, so I just watch her. I know she can’t tell since she’s hiding behind me, but I’m still able to keep an eye on her.
I’ve always had to watch my back.
I lead her to my back door, since I keep the front door locked and sealed in case anyone tries to break in. Given what I do, I keep my shit safe.
She follows without a word. I grunt as I set her bags down, which I immediately regret since it makes her cringe. The amount of shit her parents packed is humorous and definitely excessive, but I truly don’t mind and don’t want Sage feelin’ bad about it.
Then I open the door and open my place to her. Something I’ve never done before.
She doesn’t enter. She stands there.
She’s scared.
“Sage, you’re safe.”
The bag slips from her arms, her eyes go distant, and her body starts to vibrate.
“Sage, I need you to look at me.”
Her eyes water.
Chills run up my spine when I realize what’s happening. She’s reacting like this is a job. This is what she did all the time when they took her to those goddamn bastards’ homes to rape her.
I feel more desperate than I’ve ever felt before to make her feel safe.
“Sage!” I snap, hating this sight more than anything.
Her whole body goes rigid. Okay, no yelling.
Shit.
“Sage,” I murmur. “I’m scared. I need you to come back to me, princess.”
I see her eyes flicker with familiarity.
“Sage, you’re at my house, about to eat all my food, cut my electricity bill with your love of darkness, and watch some trash TV with me. Remember, brave girl?”
She jolts.
“Nix?”
I smile softly her way. “Yep.”
One arm goes around her waist. The other goes to her bag as a stray tear rolls down her cheek.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever say sorry for that. It… it kills me, Sage. Seein’ that. It makes me wan
t to kill them all over again.”
Shit. I should not have said that. Fuck, I can’t do this. Why am I trying? I’m good for one thing: being Aaron Marketta’s lap dog.
“Nix.”
I glance down to see Sage’s cold hand on my arm.
“Stop. Please don’t have demons ‘cause of me. I’m sorry you had to kill.” Her feet start to shuffle back and forth. “You saved my soul and my life.”
I almost want to laugh. She thinks she gave me demons. If she only knew…
“Sage, trust me…”
I don’t know what to say. Trust me, princess, I’m a bona fide killer by trade already. Trust me, my dad’s a serial killer and has trained me since birth to follow his orders or there’ll be consequences. She doesn’t realize we have that bit in common. I know mind games well. I know how well they work. How trapped they make you feel.
“Trust me, it doesn’t bother me,” I murmur. “Not doing it sooner bothers me.”
She removes her hand and looks at the inside of the house.
“Um, you wanna go first?” She looks away.
“If that’s what you’d like.”
“Yes, please.”
Her voice is barely audible. I nod and head inside, bringing her bags into the bedroom.
“I’ve already switched out the sheets and stuff. The room’s ready for you. You can settle in here until you leave.”
Silence.
“Sage? Hey, Sage?”
Frowning, I turn back to the living room. I pause when I see the sight in front of me. Sage is running her fingers along the sleek, black granite counters as if in awe.
“Your place is incredible. I… I’ve never been to a place like this.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Sage, it’s a man cave.”
“I love it,” she whispers, still staring at everything, wide-eyed.
Chuckling, I go to the fridge and grab each of us a water.
“Well, I’m glad you like it. Here’s some water.”
She takes it and sips it slowly, still running her hands along the tile and walls. My brows furrow watching her. She is freakin’ Charles Briar-Rose’s daughter. Surely she’s seen better.
“Okay, it’s not that nice, Sage.”
“It’s you, though. I’ve never seen a home before. Houses, sure.” She rolls her eyes. “Lots of them. Mansions. Lots of mansions. Motels. Apartment after apartment. Dungeon-like stone rooms. But a home, a place someone built solely for their own comfort, I’ve never been in before. I want something like this one day!” she exclaims, brightening. “This is brilliant.”
She sends a momentarily disarming smile my way and grabs the water from my hand.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I mutter. “So, uh,” I clear my throat. “The room’s all ready for you. I changed the sheets and—”
“Oh, psh,” she cuts me off. “I’ll stay on the couch.”
“No fuckin’ way. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, Sage. I may not be a gentlemen, but I draw the line there.”
“Nix, just hear me out. I don’t sleep. It’s a waste on me.”
“Still…”
“Nix…” she whispers, with something akin to fear in her eyes. “I don’t want to sleep on the bed.”
Ohhh. “Got it. No problem. Tell me what you need.”
“Right now... food. A blanket. My pajamas. And the movie you promised.”
“What about for bed?”
“Nothing. A blanket?”
“Alright. I can definitely do that. I have one bathroom, in my room. I know that’s gonna be, ah, difficult for you. Just let me know you’re gonna use it and I’ll come out here.”
She looks up at me with watery eyes. I notice her shaking slightly, but don’t call her out on it.
“Thank you, Nix.”
“‘Course. I’ll make a deal with you. You dig through your bags, find something cozy to wear, and I’m gonna call your father since he’s been blowing up my phone. Then we’ll both agree on food and a movie. Yeah?”
She nods, lips tight. “Sure.”
“Sage, your dad really is trying.”
“Good,” she quips, eyes hard. “I’m gonna make their life hell.”
With that, she spins on her heel and heads for her bags. I let out a breath. I don’t envy her parents, but I also don’t know the whole story there. Just that there’s a lot of animosity and their inability to show her love sent her into the arms of her ex/kidnapper.
With that, I go out and call her dad, who is a composed wreck. Her mom, I don’t know about her. I think she’s more upset that her daughter got forced into the sex trade, than Sage herself, if that makes sense. Her dad, though, he’s changed. Whatever parent he was before is not who he is now. He loves her. He’s trying. Sage will need time to release her anger before that relationship even begins to mend. I have a feeling he’s willing to wait for her, though.
When I head back inside, I don’t see Sage immediately. It’s been quite a bit. I try not to be concerned, but I’m just waiting for the ball to drop. For everything that’s happened to her to catch up with her. I know it will, I just don’t know when or how.
“Sage, what do you want for dinner?” I call.
“Not beef jerky!” She yells back. There’s something in her voice, though.
“Hey, mind if I come over? Ya decent?”
“I’m dressed,” she mumbles.
I head into the room, toward the bathroom to see her in satin, long-sleeved, button-up pajamas. She’s frowning at herself.
“I hate this.”
“What do you hate?”
“How can he pack this after… like everything’s just…”
Her fingers start to twitch like she wants to rip her skin off.
“Get out! I’m changing!” she snaps.
“Sage, breathe.”
“What?”
I know when she turns, she’s crying.
“I have a t-shirt. If you wanna borrow it, you can. Just keep your pants on or get some new sweats.”
I’m not having a seventeen year old walking around my place without pants. Nope.
Sage snorts. “Well, this is a change in atmosphere,” she mutters.
“Don’t joke about that, Sage.”
“Why not?” She shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. But the jokes are a mask for her shame, and I don’t like that. Not at all. I know, deep down, she doesn’t either.
“You know why. Now change. There’s food.”
“Motivation, then.”
Chuckling, I mumble. “Yep, whatever gets you fired up.”
“Food does.”
“Well then, food it is.”
“‘Kay.” She fidgets uncomfortably.
“I’m leaving. Relax, doll.”
I quickly turn and head into the kitchen. Fuck, she’s vegan. What do I have here that’s vegan? What can vegans even eat?
Shit.
“I’m so thin.”
I turn to see Sage standing there, shorts rolled up, yet still slipping off her hips.
“These were my favorite.”
She’s trying to sound casual, but her quivering lower lip gives her away.
“What the fuck do vegans eat, princess?”
A weird look between crying and laughing hits her face before the sadness fades, and amused, mild annoyance takes its place.
She marches over to the kitchen. “You knew what was vegan at the hospital.”
“Nope. I went to the nearest vegan restaurant and told them to give me all the best things on the menu.”
“Nix! That’s terrible. Veganism saves all the cute little animals.”
“Cows. It saves cows, Sage.”
I swear her chest expands. “And chickens, fish, pigs, ducks, deer—”
“Deer?”
“Yes, deer! Venison. People eat that!”
“Okay, sorry. I apologize.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I have to bite my lip to keep fr
om laughing. Not at veganism, ‘cause actually it sounds great. But her. She’s amusing.
“Okay, good. Let’s see what you have here.”
She goes into my fridge like she owns the place. She’s got one hand on her shorts, and the other is going back and forth between my t-shirt hanging off her and the fridge door.
“This is appalling, Nixon.”
I smile, knowing she can’t see me.
“I’m not kidding here!” She spins around, then turns back to the fridge. “Turkey slices, chicken breast, eggs, yogurt. Is there anything here I can eat?”
“I think I have some shit in the pantry.”
“If it’s just beef jerky, I swear to God.”
“Yes, Mom.”
She ignores that.
“Okay, I can work with this.”
Before I know it, she’s pulling shit from the pantry and fridge, making somewhat of a mess, which I am not used to since I’ve always lived alone.
“Go pick out the movie and I’ll make food.”
“You don’t have to cook. I don’t mind doing it.”
“No, I want to. Mom and Dad have a chef and didn’t let me near the kitchen. Obviously, food was scarce in hell,” she mumbles. “Hence my gross body.”
“It’s not gross, doll.”
She frowns at herself.
“Not to mention, weight is easy to put on. You’ll get it back.”
“I hope so.”
Topic change, please. “Okay, you cook. What kind of movies do you like?”
“Well, um, I… I’ve only seen, like, two movies in my whole life so I really don’t know.”
“Are you kidding me?! Wow, I’m not even a movie person, but do you ever just… chill? Hang with your friends?”
“I… don’t have friends, and I used to read instead.”
I know instantly that this is a topic of conversation that needs to change. Reading is still a raw subject for her.
“Well, I’m gonna be an amazing human being and sit through a bunch of bullshit with you, because it’s like a female rule that all women must see The Notebook.”
“That movie with that Ryan guy?”
“Gosling, yeah.”
“That sounds fine then.”
With that, I no longer exist. She turns to the food and, with careful hands, begins prepping, so I leave her to it. I can’t believe I’m watching the fucking Notebook, but that movie gets that girls are dreamy and Sage could use a little dreamy right now.