Page 54 of Save Me
“Believe me, Beth, you won’t ever be living with that monster,” he says with conviction before slumping and resting his forehead against mine. “I want you to take pictures, right now, and have a decent breakfast before school. It’s half seven so I need to get going soon.”
“Really?” I groan. “Can’t we just freeze time?”
He smirks at my pouting and then we kiss. This soon turns lustful, wild, and primal, threatening to lead us into something more. That is until he forces himself back from me.
“Yes! God, you are so…” he trails off while shaking his head with a laugh. “Stay still and I’ll take pictures on both my phone and yours, ok?”
Sticking out my left thigh against the backdrop of my lily-white linen, which makes the purple, dark brown coloring look even more vibrant, I wait patiently while he takes the photographs. I know it’s a giant waste of time, but if it stops Xander from trying to track Oliver down, it’s what I’ll do. His safety is now as important to me as the safety of my family.
My breakfast of a cup of tea and a Rich Tea from Mum’s secret stash of British biscuits isn’t exactly the meal Xander was hoping for, but he’s lucky I ate anything at all. I’m a skip breakfast and regret it by ten o’clock kind of gal, so forcing food down my throat at half seven in the morning is a complete shock to the system.
When I arrive at school, alone, for appearance’s sake, I’m pleased to see Kai waiting for me by the front doors, grinning from ear to ear like he does every Monday to Friday. However, this Monday morning, his beaming smile instantly drops the moment he sees me up close. Even with a shower, a losing of one’s virginity after-glow, and copious amounts of make-up that now has me feeling itchy, cannot hide the unpleasant sight that is my face post-Oliver Lawrence’s attack. I have fingerprint bruises up and down my jaw, a cut lip, a swollen nose, and a slight limp. My wrists also have ugly, deep red bruises circling all the way around them, but at least I can cover those.
“Damn! What the hell happened to you, Beth?” Kai jumps over to me, making no attempt to cover up the fact that he’s now studying me like a strange new lifeform. It’s only mildly less uncomfortable than seeing the other students walking by, all pausing to look at me with perplexed expressions and the odd mutter of ‘She looks rough!’ and, ‘What the hell happened to her?’
“I fell off my bike,” I reply with a casual shrug, lying my face off to him with one of the most pathetic excuses one can think of in such a situation. I guess after having sex for the first time, learning that my biological grandfather is the head honcho of some disturbing cult, as well as having one’s physician examine your hymen, I forgot to think of a better excuse. He merely raises a don’t-give-me-that-shit eyebrow before taking my hand inside of his to lead me into school.
“Yeah, because falling off a bike will cause fingerprint bruises up and down your face?” he mutters without even looking at me.
“Yes. Yes, it will,” I huff, “and you also know I can’t talk about it. Come on, let’s go.”
I sigh, feeling about as enthusiastic as I did when opening my stocking up on Christmas morning to be greeted with a packet of socks. The staple gift of any good Christmas stocking, complete with tangerines taken straight from the fruit bowl the night before.
By lunchtime, my face, which is now being referred to as the work of my ‘angry sugar daddy’ by some of the popular crowd (to be fair, they’re not far off the truth) has become old news. A couple of seniors are currently having a very public break-up in the middle of the lunch hall. Whilst the girls all try to calm her down, the guys all laugh and make jibes at their friend, which only proves to rile him up even more. Kai smiles over the theatrics while I check my phone, beaming when I find a message from Mum telling me that they got to London safely and that Grandad sends his love.
Xander is nowhere to be seen, which is good because I know the instant when I do see him, the color of my cheeks will give everything away. Especially if he gives me so much as a wink or a curl of his lips. It’s not until after lunch that I see him in his usual, confidant position of being slumped down in his chair, legs wide open, leaning one arm against the length of his desk, all while waiting for social sciences to begin. I take in a breath and avert my eyes before I can give my body a chance to blush over the sight of him. I practically faint when I hear him humming, This Sex is on Fire, from behind where Kai and I are sitting.
Mr Dalton beams at the class with his usual charm before talking about the pros and cons of living in a closed community. I laugh hysterically on the inside, seeing as I will soon be living in one; a very dangerous and outdated one at that. Trust me, it’s a pitiful laugh, one that could easily turn into tears if I let it.
Halfway through the discussion, which now has me sinking in my chair because the boy from behind me is literally cracking his knuckles in rage, another student, a sophomore, enters the room. The whole room instantly turns to look at the poor boy, who is now shuffling awkwardly about on his feet.
“Hello, Bradley,” Mr Dalton says with a warm smile, “how can we help you?”
“The principal would like Beth Taylor to go to his office,” he says hurriedly, clearly hating all the attention he’s now receiving. I can’t blame him for it because now all eyes have turned to me, and I probably look even less enamored by it. The class erupts into groans of ‘ooooh’ and loud laughter, just as Mr Dalton gives me the signal to go.
My chair scrapes back under all the noise from my classmates, and I can’t even begin to hide my confusion when I look at Kai. I even chance a glance at Xander, who looks just as concerned over my being summoned. Bradley is literally bouncing on the spot, itching to get out of here, just as I’m doing all I can to prolong leaving.
Once in the corridor, I hear Mr Dalton telling the others to quit behaving like a herd of cattle. I then get moving to try and keep up with Bradley, who is one step away from a full-on sprint back to his own class. I walk the remainder of the way to the principal’s office alone, listening to the shuffling of my feet along the otherwise silent hallway.
As soon as I set foot inside of the receptionist’s office, a room that smells of humbugs and coffee, I can hear my heartbeat thudding between my ears. My breathing begins to struggle to keep up with my body’s urgent need for oxygen and I soon feel dizzy. Mrs Barker, a kindly grandmother type who I’ve only met once before, smiles and points toward the principal’s intimidating wooden door.
“Go right in, dear,” she prompts me when I continue to just stare at the metal plate that states the obvious, ‘Principal’.
Suddenly I feel really small, and I want to run back outside, where my mum would be waiting for me with a warm hug and a promise of never having to face anything bad again. However, the last time that happened, I was six, and as it turned out, the headmaster had only wanted to give me a special certificate for being so kind and thoughtful in class that week. Something tells me this is not going to be the same pleasant surprise that it was back then.
I reach out toward the metal, sphere-shaped handle, and rely on the small amount of bravery I have, to turn the orb and push it open. When I look inside of the traditional and archaic-looking office, I see, with a heavy heart, that he is not alone. In fact, Principal Gray is not sat in his seat at all. He is stood next to a man in an expensive black suit, who is lounging back confidently inside of the chair, looking very much like he owns the place. The man smiles at me with his teeth. My breath hitches in my throat and I am unable to even pretend to reciprocate the sentiment of being pleased to see him.
“Ah, Beth, come in,” the principal beams at me, “take a seat. You know Mr Lawrence, don’t you, dear?”
My gaping mouth speaks volumes, especially seeing as my own voice seems to be completely absent in the presence of both these powerful men. Oliver’s head tips gently in warning, prompting me to bob my head and shuffle nervously into the chair in front of the grand, mahogany desk.
“As I was telling Mr Lawrence here, you’re an excellent student, Beth, glad to have you.” He continues talking, but his words become white noise. My sole attention is firmly fixed on the man who attacked me yesterday. The principal doesn’t even mention the marks all over my face, but then, I’m guessing he already knows how they got there. If he does, he either doesn’t care or is too afraid to say anything.
“Well, I’ve got a few deviants to see to, so I’m going to leave you alone.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, all the while I’m fighting the urge to run out after him.
When the sound of the door clicking from behind flows through my ears, I take a momentary glance at Oliver and his glare of suspicion before looking to the floor. Like any good tormentor, he leaves me hanging for a while, choosing to remain eerily silent. The result of which has me suddenly feeling very uncomfortable within my own skin.