Page 48 of Save Me
“Was already coming, babe,” he whispers, then smirks at me when I grin back with obvious relief. “I don’t want you seeing jerk-face, Beth, but if you have to, you need to ask about your grandmother.”
“I know, and believe me, I don’t want to go there either,” I reply sadly. I am fearful of his slippery hands touching me again, and with me not being able to do or say a thing about it. After all, it’s what is expected of a Mayfield wife. Why don’t these pretentious, male chauvinists just go out and buy a blow-up doll? It would be far less messy and certainly get me out of a fix.
As I ponder on that disturbing thought, I glance up to see that it’s already near five o’clock. Time I should be getting back because this is usually when Oliver likes to call Mal to check in on me. I feel like I’m a part of a litter of puppies just waiting to be of an age when they can be ripped away from their mother and be forced into a whole new household. I’m surprised he doesn’t come around to observe me in my current habitat and question my parents over my eating and toileting habits.
“I want to stay here with you, Xander, but I’ve got to get back. Mal and Mum will start wondering where I am.”
“I know. It’s killing me to have to ignore you at school, but I can’t risk your safety, Beth. Let me know through Kai or Bodhi when your parents are actually going, and I’ll see you at your place then.”
He leans his forehead against mine before bridging the gap to kiss me. I take it all in, knowing I won’t be able to hold him like this again until the end of the week. With one last kiss, I get up and walk out without another word or glance, and with only Kai following me out. It’s too hard to look back and leave him, knowing that one day I will have to do it with the knowledge that it’s the last time I’ll ever see him again.
Friday soon arrives at the end of a week of watching the rest of my family pack and get ready to return to England without me. To say it has been hard is a massive understatement, and I’ll admit I’ve had hateful, jealous thoughts over all of them at one point or another, even Riley. I can’t help it; it’s human nature and I’m in a thoroughly shitty position. They leave on Sunday, right before I have to go and see Oliver for his enforced lunch date, just for an extra kick in the teeth. Mal had told Riley and Mum that I’m receiving extra tutoring for my college applications. His lie had made me want to shove a fork in his eye because he knows full well that I won’t even be going to college.
I stayed behind to study in the library, just to avoid the excited people going about their busy weekends. That and the fact Mum’s already hitting panic mode over having everything organized for their impending departure. My plan to escape it all doesn’t exactly work out the way I wanted it to, though. All I can do is sit here thinking about it all, and when I realize I’ve already gone through six pages without taking in a single word of sense, I give in and pack up my things.
My feet squeak noisily along the parquet floor with the same tell-tale echoing that informs me I’m alone. I tighten my grip across my textbooks just for a little bit of extra comfort, when all of a sudden, someone tugs at my elbow and pulls me into an empty classroom. Before I even know what’s happening, Xander’s warm hands are sliding around my waist, and his lips are pressing softly against mine. My almost scream of shock instantly turns into a gentle moan when he slips his tongue in between my lips and begins to devour me. We kiss with such urgency, it shows just how much we’ve missed each other over the past week.
“You silly arse,” I gasp as I push against him with a giggle, “you scared me half to death!”
“You can’t be that mad!” he whispers with a cheeky grin, all the while wiggling his hips against mine. “Besides, I came to give you a message.” His expression changes to a more serious one so I brace myself for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Don’t go! Please don’t go on Sunday. I can’t bear the thought of him trying to put his hands or anything else on you.”
“Xander,” I sigh, knowing this was going to come eventually, but hoping it would have been a little further down the line. “You know I have to. At least he won’t expect me to go all the way with him, not yet anyway.” I look away sadly as he holds on tighter to me. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I’m sorry, Beth,” he huffs, “I haven’t slept much, and I need to know you’re going to be safe.”
“I will be,” I whisper with a hard swallow, trying to sound convincing for him, “and then I can meet you at mine afterwards.”
He leans in to kiss me goodbye, however it soon turns deeper and with an urgency to get closer, to give into all our teenage hormones and experience the things that new couples crave when left alone together. I am effortlessly lifted onto a nearby desk where he pushes between my thighs and presses his bulging arousal against my sex. Soon after, we’re grinding against one another with my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and my fingers threading through his short, soft hair.
“God, I want you so much, Beth,” he whispers inside of my ear, “I’ve never wanted someone this much; you’re killing me!”
“I bet you say that to all the girls!” I giggle playfully and begin kissing him up and down his neck, not having experience in any of this so just let whatever comes naturally happen, without thought or fear.
“Don’t even mention other girls, Beth,” he says between kisses, “you are more than any girl I’ve ever been with, so much more!”
Just as a building of tingly sensations from deep inside of me, begins to flow through to where we are intimately joined, he suddenly pulls away. I gasp over the sudden withdrawal of his touch, feeling so frustrated, I end up pouting, much like his sister does whenever she doesn’t get her own way. It’s an expression I never thought I’d wear, which only riles me up even more. I shuffle angrily off the desk, feeling annoyed with both him and me, all the while Xander merely chuckles over my tantrum. Before I can embarrass myself even more, he pulls me into his arms.
“I’m saving you for Sunday,” he whispers before kissing me chastely on top of my head. “I’ll leave first, so wait a few minutes, then come out after me. I’ll be at yours by five on Sunday.”
“I’ll leave a key in the flowers under my window,” I reply, now with a huge grin on my face, even if I am feeling deeply frustrated. We kiss once more. It’s a kiss that could easily turn into more frustration, so this time, I end up pushing him away.
Chapter 17
Beth
On my way to Oliver’s house, having just said goodbye to Mum and Riley, I feel streams of tears running down my cheeks. The urge to drop to my knees and beg them to take me with them had been on the tip of my tongue, but each time I was tempted to, I looked at my innocent little brother, my happy-go-lucky mother, and decided that staying was the right thing to do, no matter how much I hate it. I didn’t even look at Mal, something my mother is appearing to notice more, but I couldn’t bring myself to play happy families with him. Our relationship has officially hit rock bottom.
It wasn’t until they left that I let the tears out in slow trickles, knowing full well that if I fully gave into it, I would be sobbing noisily and ugly for hours. I didn’t have the luxury of being able to do such a thing, not when I was due to see Oliver not long afterward. The friendly driver, who introduced himself as Samuel soon arrived to pick the quiet weeping mess of a girl.
Now, here I sit, straining to keep it all inside while putting on a façade for my driver. The poor man frequently feels the need to check in on me with a frowned expression and a desperation to say something. Apart from the odd involuntary sigh he emits every now and then, he keeps his thoughts to himself, which I’m thankful for. I’m guessing he is paid well for his services but isn’t necessarily privy to either Mayfield or Oliver’s personal business.
Upon arrival, the format of the visit is much the same as before, only without the guided tour through the maze of lifeless rooms. Instead, I am led straight into the dining room where another lavish meal awaits us. And just like last time, I cannot bear the thought of touching a single crumb of it because my stomach is already churning with fear. Oliver serves me my food, just as masterfully as he had last week, neither asking me what I would like or how much I want, he just assumes he knows what is best for me. While I force each mouthful down with slow, deep breaths, bargaining with my stomach to not instantly bring it all back up, I can feel him watching me. It only serves to make the whole ordeal even more vomit worthy.
“Is there something wrong?” I ask politely, no longer able to bear his watchful eyes on my eating.
“Not at all; I just can’t stop looking at my beautiful future wife,” he says with every ounce of charm I’ve come to expect from him. I smile anxiously, all the while I feel like I’m dying over his words. “What do you think of your future husband?”
I chew for a little bit longer, trying to put off answering him while I think about what to say without leading him into believing I either like or dislike him. I have a feeling portraying either sentiment will not end well for me.