Page 66 of Save Me
He leans in and presses his lips softly to mine, almost with an expertise he might use on someone he actually has feelings for. His hands also stay firmly where they are, on my face, instead of on my chest or in my pants, which I’m more than grateful for. Next, he runs his tongue across my bottom lip, seeking permission, before parting them to let himself in. We massage each other’s tongues and it’s not unpleasant. But it’s nothing like when I kiss Xander. When he finally pulls back, he seems pleased with me, smiling softly as he strokes my cheek again, much like one would stroke a pet when they’ve correctly performed a trick.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” he murmurs with a look of genuine affection, warped as it might be. “In fact, I need to get going for my meeting, but a car will pick you up at two on Saturday. Patricia and Sarah are coming at four to dress you and do all of that other stuff girls do before a party.” He smiles over his own ignorance, trying to make light of the situation, which momentarily brings a tight smile to my face. My reciprocal behavior earns me a kiss on the cheek before he finally turns to leave. “Goodbye, my beautiful Beth.”
“Goodbye, Oliver,” I reply as I watch him leave before letting out a long breath of relief. Admittedly, as far as our meetings have gone before, this one was relatively innocent, safe. However, a horrible feeling strikes me that I will end up paying for this gentleness at some point. A payment that will have me trying to cling onto my freedom that much more tightly.
Xander
“What’s that?” Bodhi points to the card that I’m twisting and turning inside of my hand, its contents already forever etched inside of my head.
Not even the spliff I’ve been sharing with Bodhi is taking the edge off of my nerves tonight. Not when I know my girl is currently in the company of Oliver and all of his fucked-up villainous friends at Casa del Lawrence. A place that no doubt makes the house on Haunted Hill look like a holiday resort. Not only that, but it’s also being sold as their engagement party when really it should be named for what it is – a forced marriage.
I’m supposed to sit here like a flaccid cock while that abusive asshole gets to swan around telling everyone that he owns my girlfriend. More than that, I have to try and remain calm even in the knowledge that he could try anything with her and there’s not a thing she can do to stop him. Fuck! Count to ten, Xander. Keep it together before you have a coronary and miss her coming home altogether. I haven’t been close to her since Monday when we had to make do with the romantic setting of a public toilet cubicle.
“Coordinates,” I eventually reply on an exhale as I look at the setting sun on the horizon. “Somewhere Beth and I can go if things truly turn to shit. Somewhere off the grid, if you know what I mean.”
“Gotcha,” he replies, then takes a deep drag on the blunt I’ve now given up on. “Don’t tell me about it. I know they’ll come to me first if you and she suddenly disappear.”
“Did you ever imagine me falling for someone this complicated?” I let out a cheerless laugh, shaking my head over all that is happening; it truly is unbelievable.
He smiles genuinely and seems to join me in staring out over the ocean, seeking comfort in its beautiful simplicity. It’s not yet dark, and the sinking sun is casting orange pockets of light across the surface of the blue in front of us. It’s the type of view you’d sit and watch with your girlfriend while you share a romantic moment or two together. Yet here I am sat with the local weed dealer.
“Dude, I didn’t imagine you falling for anyone as much as you’ve fallen for her,” he finally replies as he taps the ash onto the sand before stubbing it out altogether. “You need someone who doesn’t think the sun shines out of your ass!” He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder in friendship. “Don’t worry, man, we’ll find a way, and I seriously think she’ll be ok tonight.”
“Yeah?” I ask and he nods firmly.
I check my watch and sigh, knowing I have at least another five hours until she’ll be back home safe, and hopefully lying in my arms. So long as her mother can get me in without Leo catching us. She’s promised that she’ll text me the minute Beth’s back, but it doesn’t stop another long sigh blowing out from my mouth as I sit staring into the fading light.
Beth
Guests have been arriving for the past hour or so, floating in and out of Oliver’s grand front doors, which are being more heavily guarded than usual. Armed security line the driveway, their stern faces a warning to all to behave in the proper Mayfield manner or face the consequences.
Patricia crosses the floor of the joint bedroom, touching me up for the zillionth time while I continue to stare at all the strangers who have come to see the mysterious granddaughter of the infamous Carl Steele. I feel like the modern-day equivalent of Anastasia, the lost Russian princess, finally found, and ready to be put on display.
A range of ages, though most are older than me, bare their teeth in toothy grins as they shake hands with who I assume is Oliver’s father at the front door. I don’t know any of them, neither do I want to. I just want to go home and curl up with a film next to Mum and Xander like a normal teenager. I shiver when a gust of cold air shoots through me, causing my skin to turn goose pimply as I lean back from the window, wondering what my boyfriend is doing while I’m sitting here. In fact, I’m wondering what all the people in my ‘normal’ life are doing right now.
Warm hands cover my naked arms as Oliver steps up behind me and gently kisses my icy cold shoulder before turning me around to face him. He grins, looking me up and down with approval as he smooths his hand down the silk covering my waist. Patricia has had the gown altered to fit me perfectly, showcasing every curve, and cinching me in to flatter my figure.
“You look perfect,” he whispers, before lifting my left hand to his lips.
I’m nervous of him, especially when he is acting the epitome of charming, tender, affectionate, and gentlemanly. It’s not something I’m used to when in his company. As he stares at me with what looks like affection, I half wonder if we were a normal couple, if this sort of behavior would make me swoon at his feet and fall for him in a natural way. I smile awkwardly, trying to appreciate his efforts, even if they do make me feel more nauseated than when he’s being naturally domineering.
He steps back to retrieve something from the inside pocket of his priceless tuxedo, giving me a moment to take in his naturally handsome appearance and expensive Italian leather shoes. However, I can’t see past the fact that he is beyond intimidating and holds all the power in this relationship. He only fills me full of fear and because of that, neither his wealth, his charm nor his attractive physique can persuade me that he is anybody I could fall for.
Eventually, he retrieves a small, black, velvet box and pops it open to reveal a sparkling diamond solitaire ring. It’s simple but big enough to blind someone if it were to catch the light at the right angle; it’s much too grand for my small fingers. He enjoys my shock and slides the platinum band over my engagement finger with a satisfied smile. Once on my finger, I flex my hand a couple of times to try and get used to the alien object now sitting there like a greedy parasite consuming me, killing me slowly under its heavy weight.
“Fits perfectly,” he says and smiles with his teeth, “it’s meant to be!”
I’m kissed passionately with his tongue sweeping through my lips as he pulls me toward his hips, but thankfully, he stops himself from going any further. Something has caused him to re-evaluate his heavy-handedness, but I’m not yet sure of what it is. Maybe my mother’s meeting with him prompted him to be gentler, though I’m not wholly convinced. Could it be the great Oliver Lawrence is just as nervous as I am over this meeting of members tonight?
“Come!” he orders, holding his hand out and waiting for me to comply obediently, just as any good Mayfield wife should.
I take in a huge gulp of air, knowing it is time to go and meet the vultures who are downstairs, including my biological grandfather. A man who my nanny had run from because he was so vile to her, a man who set me up to marry someone without even having met me himself. It’s a wonder I don’t pass out. My heart begins to thud heavily inside of my chest and a shiver of fear runs through me right before he pushes the doors open and leads me out into the long corridor.
“Do not leave my side tonight, Beth,” he instructs, keeping his eyes looking forward at the security ahead of us. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine and that you are to be given the same respect that I would be given. Do you understand?”
My vocal cords appear to be stuck together so I can only nod my confirmation. I guess I am now expected to be seen and not heard, so this should please him.
As we descend the lavish staircase, I hear classical music being played from a live orchestra, which is only masked by the sound of voices and laughter, all mingling together in one collective group. Waiters and waitresses eye Oliver with trepidation, looking very much aware of the predator walking beside me and what he’s capable of. He leads me in a new direction, toward a set of doors I’ve never been to before, both very reminiscent of the old-fashioned décor of the dining room. Oliver turns with arrogant pride, smiling at me as if to ask me if I’m ready for this, though I doubt I have any real say in it.