Page 35 of Save Me
“What the hell did you agree to, Beth?”
For a moment or two, I can’t answer him. Instead, our eyes remain fixed in a silent battle of wills, with him not letting me go anywhere without telling him, and me wanting to turn away and run into the safety of my room.
“I’m sure you can guess,” I eventually relent, with my voice being no louder than a whisper.
He closes his eyes, looking beyond angry over what I’ve just admitted to; to what I willingly signed up to. His hand runs down his face before stopping over his lips which he pinches between nearly all of his fingers. My eyes instantly fill with salty tears of fear, shame, and regret.
“God, I hope I can trust you not to say anything, Xander. I think I can, but if this gets out, I’m screwed way earlier than I need to be.”
“Are you telling me you’ve agreed to sleep with him because of your father’s epic fuck up?” he growls into the air between us, before punching at the steering wheel. I jump at his outburst at the same time as emitting a sob of despair. “You can’t! I won’t let you!”
Before I can argue, or move anywhere else, he pulls my hands to his chest and holds onto them with his much larger ones.
“Beth, this is fucked up and you are worth so much more than this!”
His words give my tears the go-ahead to jump ship and run down my cheeks in trickles, one after the other. I have to look away from those eyes of his, knowing that the disappointment inside of them will only make me sink further.
“What am I supposed to do, Xander?” I whimper as I slap at my wet cheeks. “My family will literally have nothing if I don’t adhere to the new deal. If it were just Mal, I wouldn’t even dream of doing it, but I have my mum and Riley to think about.”
“That slimy fucker!” he shouts through gritted teeth. “No…no,” he says as he violently shakes his head, “this isn’t happening! Do you hear me, Beth Taylor? This.Isn’t.Fucking.Happening!”
When I finally manage to look up at him, his dark gaze scares me, and I can no longer deal with it anymore.
“I have to, Xander,” I cry before jumping out of the car and letting my feet run as fast as I can to the front door of my house.
“BETH!” he yells, just as I grab the door handle with such force, my whole hand hurts. Reluctantly, I turn to look at him, still with traitorous little tears sailing down my face. He says nothing, probably knowing that there is nothing either of us can say to make this better.
Eventually, I will myself to turn the handle and push inside, throwing my bag to the floor and slamming the door closed behind me. I sink to the carpet and shudder against the wooden panels with my heart pounding the whole time. I soon hear his engine rev away down the street, only confirming how desperate he was to flee from the girl who has promised herself to someone else.
Chapter 13
Beth
Saturday passes by so quickly that it makes me feel dizzy. Like every other teenager my age, I do my homework, go for a run, chat with friends at the beach, spend an hour or so on the phone to Kai, and indulge in my freedom. This is all before I have to sink into the ‘unnormal’ part of my adolescent life. The part where I’m betrothed to a man who is over ten years older than me, and who scares the shit out of me.
By late afternoon, I feel so tired I would be more than willing to sleep through until Monday morning, thus bypassing Oliver’s insidious lunch invitation altogether. I am so emotionally exhausted, I can’t keep my eyes open, and it feels like I’m sinking into a sort of anxious depression. I end up falling asleep on the beach, with my mind trying to protect me from all the mad thoughts rushing around inside. I’m kept unconscious until early evening when I wake up in Bodhi’s beach house, taking in the smell Annie’s delicious home cooking, together with a pungent smell of weed.
Bodhi had offered to come and spy on us during tomorrow’s ‘date’, just to make sure that Oliver keeps his hands to himself. However, I made him promise he wouldn’t. My intended has a lot of armed security, and that place will probably be akin to Fort Knox, with any number of weapons being at his disposal. The very last thing I want to happen is for someone I love to get hurt. It’s the very reason I agreed to everything in the first place.
Much to my mother’s delight, Riley and I spend the evening watching a bloodfest film with plenty of gore and other such adult content. I’m sure Riley is much too young to be watching it, especially as his face has turned decidedly pale. However, having liberal folks has its perks, and this is one of them; watch what you want but don’t come crying to me in the middle of the night when you think a supernatural puppet is coming at you with a carving knife. Throw in the junk food and Cadbury’s chocolate, and we manage to binge ourselves into a stupor.
Eventually, Riley gives in and goes to bed. Meanwhile, I battle with my own heavy eyelids, only not going myself because I know what is to befall on me tomorrow. When I finally do succumb to my pit, one I want to bury myself in, I check my phone for any messages from Xander. It is decidedly empty with a taunting little zero next to my inbox, telling me that he’s obviously disgusted by what I had admitted to and wants nothing more to do with me. I audibly sigh because if I don’t, I’ll cry, yet again. I then tell myself to snap out of it and that all is as it should be. My whole situation is torturous enough without falling for someone I can’t have; someone else I’d have to say goodbye to.
Sunday hits me fast, like when you wake up feeling as though you’ve only just gone to bed and yet here you are having to get up again. My phone is flashing, informing me of missed messages in my inbox. However, when I look at them, they are only from Oliver informing me that he expects to see me today and to be ready for his car picking me up, dead at noon. The final one warns me that if I refuse to come, he will count it as a breach of the conditions. I merely sneer at it and continue to get up and dressed, defiantly refusing to message anything back to such a threat.
The clouds have rolled in today, putting a slight chill in the air, which is fairly ominous considering what I have just ahead of me. I opt for a black, finely knitted dress that hangs down to my knees, with elbow-length sleeves and a cross-over at the top. When I check myself in the mirror, I notice that my skin looks extremely pale against the fabric, and my blond hair, which is cascading down my back, has bleached a little in the sun over the summer. I almost look ill. I wear modest heels and apply some make-up, but not too much. I don’t want to look older than I am. I want him to see me as the teenager who he is asking to give up her life.
As per my request, Mal has already left with Mum and Riley, leaving me to wait for Oliver’s car in vomit-inducing isolation. They always go to Riley’s football practice on a Sunday morning, so suggesting they go out for lunch afterward wasn’t out of the realms of possibility. In fact, Mum had nudged me last night when I said I didn’t want to go, giving the excuse that I had too much work to do. She rubbed my back sympathetically all the while Mal had refused to look me in the eye. I had to battle not to narrow them into angry, bitter, little slits at him. The thought of getting dressed up like this, and them assuming I was going out on a date with a normal boy, a boy like Xander, would have been soul-destroying.
“Oh, God!” I whisper to myself when a freshly polished, black Aston Martin pulls up outside of my house. It’s virtually silent and far too smooth for my liking. I let out a slow, steady stream of air as I walk over to answer the knock at the door, only to find an unfamiliar, but friendly enough face, staring back at me. He’s a tall man with soft eyes and an obvious gentle nature about him; he instantly puts me at ease, like a gentle giant.
“Miss Taylor,” he greets me cheerfully, “I’m here to take you to Mr Lawrence. Are you expecting me?”
I swallow back the large lump in my throat before nodding awkwardly, all the while blushing over what this kindly, older man, who reminds me of my Grandad in his younger days, must think of me. I hope he doesn’t think I’m some silly, young gold-digger, trying to get in good with a wealthy, older man because nothing could be further from the truth.
Cautiously, and in movements much slower than normal, I pick up my bag and silently follow him over to the car where he gestures for me to sit in the back. I’d be carsick even without the prospect of spending lunch with Oliver, so begin taking deep breaths before we move away from its parked position.
We soon move through the quiet streets of my town, leaving behind my house, my street, and eventually, the coastline itself. I feel like a part of me is still sat on that beach, watching as I disappear from the place I love most. About half an hour into the silent drive, I can no longer see any signs of civilization, just a vast expanse of desert and the odd gas station. Instinctively, I begin to slide down in my seat, mulling over the terrifying thought that Oliver may not let me go home at all today; this could be it, my fate.