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Sawyer swayed on his feet, but he made it to the kitchen, grabbing a box of cereal from beside the refrigerator and collapsing in the nearest wooden chair. He sat across from us, seemingly uncaring that he was dripping water onto his own furniture. His hands shook as he opened the box and tore into the bag. We all stared at him, and he was oblivious.
Or, again, he didn’t care. It was Sawyer we were talking about.
He brought a single piece of cereal to his mouth, not chewing on it once it was inside, but sucking on it. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Sawyer’s blonde hair was still pink, but it was starting to fade. That, or it just looked like it was fading while it was wet. He grimaced, and he held the side of his head for a moment, as if he had a headache.
Right. No pills at all in this house, not even pain medication. Sawyer really was having a terrible go at life right now, wasn’t he?
“That’s okay, just ignore me,” Sawyer went on, leaning his head back on the chair, popping another piece of cereal. “Just pretend I’m not saying a fucking thing—”
“We’re talking about my serial killer stalker ex,” Ash spoke bluntly, causing Sawyer to freeze and stare at her. Though his eyes were bloodshot, they radiated an emotion I didn’t know he was capable of: surprise.
Sawyer’s stare turned to Travis and then me. “You…you’re joking, right? This is some…stupid fucking attempt at a joke. It has to be. I’m really not in the mood for—”
Travis sent him a scowl that stopped him from saying anything else. “This isn’t a joke, Sawyer. This is life or death, and we’ve been dealing with it while trying to get you back in your own goddamn head.” Travis was practically fuming, the muscles under his tattooed tensing.
Since it looked like Sawyer was about to say something to only further rile Travis up, I spoke calmly, “Her ex is Ray Ruiz. Look him up. He’s the—”
“The Midtown Strangler, I know who the fuck he is. I pay attention in class, unlike some people,” Sawyer remarked, rolling his eyes as he popped another piece of cereal into his mouth.
My mouth was agape. Not at all what I was expecting him to say.
“I might be an addict, but I like to think I function pretty well,” Sawyer spoke, quieting as he looked at Ash. “This weekend…not including this weekend.” He swallowed the cereal in his mouth, quickly looking away.
That was…a very odd shared look they had. Travis noticed it too, but he said nothing.
“This weekend a lot of mistakes were made,” Ash relented, causing us three to look at her. “But there can’t be any more mistakes, not until Ray’s gone. How, exactly, we’ll get him gone, I don’t know—”
“I told you,” Travis cut in, “I’m getting help on that front.”
She plowed on, “But we need to be aware, we need to be cautious. He’ll be watching us all. Just assume he’s there, even if you don’t see anyone watching you.” It was a physical impossibility for him to be everywhere at once, but I knew what she meant. If we were all careful, we might survive this. Maybe.
“And why the fuck can’t we call the cops on this serial killer stalker ex?” Sawyer questioned, wincing at the strength of his own voice. He didn’t look so big and tough right now, but once the withdrawal symptoms faded, he was, frankly, our best defense against Ray. The strongest of us, physically.
We needed him.
I hated admitting that to myself, but we did. It was true. The more of us that were around to keep an eye out, the more there were to watch over Ash, the less likely something was to happen.
And Will…I had to get him here, had to convince him to come here for his own good. He wasn’t safe in his apartment alone, that much we all knew already. I’d call him after this conversation was done, I decided.
“Because Ray was let off, but I…” Ash quieted, biting her bottom lip. “There are things that I—”
Sawyer watched her fumble over her words, saying, “I get it. No cops. They’ve proved themselves useless time and time again anyway.” He glimpsed to me, for only a split second, and I wanted to say something, to tell him that I didn’t kill Sabrina, but I knew he still wouldn’t believe me. Sawyer just wanted someone to blame, and I took the brunt of it all this time.
Let him try to say something now. Let him try. I was not the same Declan I was months ago.
“So, what do we do, gang?” Sawyer asked, facetiousness dripping off his voice. He moved his shaking hands under the table, out of everyone’s sight. “Get a Scooby Van and try to nab ourselves a serial killer?”
“We wait. We be smart,” Ash said. “No more running away.” At that, she looked at Travis and me. “And no more parties.” With that statement, she glanced at Sawyer. “No more alcohol or drugs, and no more sleeping alone. None of us are safe when we’re alone. We should always be with someone else.”
I agreed with everything she said.
“Okay, and what about oh so wonderful Ray, hmm?” Sawyer mused, though his sarcasm was stifled a bit by the pallid color in his cheeks.
Travis ran a hand through his blue-black hair, the arm with the dragon tattoo tensing. “I’ll keep on Markus. If I bug him enough…maybe he’ll fit us in.”
“Huh,” Sawyer remarked. “Sounds like you come from a family of psychos, Trav.”
A muscle in Travis’s jaw clenched as he answered simply, “I do.”
