Page 119 of Arrogant Puck

Magnolia: TMI but also tell me everything

Sage: He’s so intense. Brooding in this way that should be annoying but just makes me want to fix him.

Magnolia: Famous last words, babe

Sage: I know, I know. But it’s unreal.

Magnolia: You got it bad, babe.

Reading her words about me, about us, makes something warm spread through my chest. She talks about me like I matter, like what we have is real and worth fighting for. Now I know I have nothing to worry about.

But then I see another conversation thread that makes my blood turn to ice.

The contact’s name is just “FUCK YOU” in all caps, and there are dozens of unread messages. When I click on it, the first thing I see are images—photos of Sage that make my vision go red around the edges.

She’s tied up, blindfolded, in positions that should only be for me. One dick up her pussy and another at her mouth. But these aren’t intimate photos—they’re weapons. Degrading images being used to threaten her.

I scroll up through the messages, my jaw clenching tighter with each line:

FUCK YOU: Miss me yet, slut?

FUCK YOU: Saw you actually moved to a new city. Running away won’t change what you are.

FUCK YOU: Found your new address. Nice place. Shame if something happened to it.

FUCK YOU: You think you can just disappear? Start over? I own you, Sage. I’ll always own you.

FUCK YOU: You’re nothing without me. Worthless. No one else will ever want a dirty whore like you.

The messages go on and on, a relentless stream of psychological warfare meant to break her down. No wonder she doesn’t trust easily. No wonder she moved across the country. This sick fuck has been stalking her, threatening her, using their photos together as ammunition.

I jot down the phone number in my phone, my hands shaking with rage. Then I keep reading, looking for any information about who this piece of shit is and where I can find him.

FUCK YOU: Text me back you fucking bitch.

FUCK YOU: You keep pretending that you didn’t like it, but I know you fucking loved it.

I’m pacing now, adrenaline coursing through my veins. How long has this been going on? Why didn’t she tell me? And what the fuck am I going to do about it?

My mind races with everything I’m going to do this fucking asshole.Tyler.I am going to track this asshole down, show him what happens when you threaten Sage. I could hire someone to make his life as miserable as he’s made hers. I could—

The front door opens, and I hear her footsteps in the hallway. I quickly close the laptop, but the rage is still burning hot in my chest, the images of those photos seared into my brain.

“Slater?” she calls out.

I walk out of her room, trying to school my expression into something resembling normal. But when she sees my face, she immediately knows something’s wrong.

“What?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

How do I tell her I invaded her privacy? How do I explain that I’ve seen the messages, the photos, the evidence of what her ex has been doing to her?

“We need to talk,” I say, my voice on the edge of rage.

Her face goes pale, and I realize she thinks this is about the pills, about my addiction. She has no idea I’ve just discovered the real reason she’s been running.

Chapter 41

I can see something’s wrong the moment I walk through the front door. Slater emerges from my bedroom with a look on his face that makes my stomach drop. This isn’t the pleading, desperate man I left an hour ago. This is someone filled with rage, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.

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