Page 76 of Save Me
Ears to the door like a couple of naughty kids, I turn my eyes to watch her trying to listen to the silence. Her lips are parted, making her look so beautiful, I immediately want to blow our eavesdropping and take her upstairs.
“What?” she mouths when she finally feels my gaze on her. She’s smiling and has a definite blush to her cheeks. I can’t help but grin even more widely as I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and take in her sweaty gym outfit.
“You’re still hot from the gym?” I whisper, to which she giggles, stirring a reaction from down below.
“I made Leo run with me from the gym. He was swearing all the way back!” She laughs more audibly, prompting her to bring her hand up to her mouth to try and silence her guilty admission. It’s enough to have me pressing my lips against hers, just as she removes her hand and places it inside of mine.
Words from behind the door have us breaking apart without conscious thought over it. The conversation becomes heated as a building crescendo of her mother’s angry tone of voice passes through the door in nothing but a loud muffle. Shortly after, her voice dies away, obviously having come to some sort of conclusion.
When her voice is silenced once and for all, she replaces it with her heavy footsteps, and with each one rapidly marching toward the door. In silent communication we agree to jump back at the exact same time, looking as guilty as if I had marched her upstairs, caveman style, and with a full-on tent going on inside of my shorts. However, the moment she shoves open that door with gusto, she’s no longer taking in what either Beth or I are doing, just heads straight over to the fridge where she proceeds to pull out a half-empty bottle of wine. As she pours the liquid into a glass with an angry sigh, we both stare at her with desperation for answers.
“Well?!” Beth eventually blurts out, holding her hands out before her in exasperation.
“He won’t let you leave the country but will set up the means for you to watch the funeral from here. I told him that is nowhere near the same, that you loved your grandfather, but he wouldn’t budge…bastard!”
My eyes whip over to Beth’s face, which has already fallen sadly toward the floor, causing me to ball my hands up into white-knuckled fists in angry disappointment for her.
“Sorry, Beth, but there is some good news,” her mother says with a healthy gulp of Chardonnay and a sympathetic expression. “He said he would have accompanied you to England himself, but he has some Mayfield business crap he has to attend to, and therefore, won’t be in the state for the next few weeks. It means he’s going to let you stay here, with Leo remaining in place to ‘guard’ you.”
Beth finally looks back up at her mother, nodding half-heartedly, then bites down on her bottom lip to try and prevent the onslaught of further tears. I know they’re coming, though, that she won’t be able to stop them, so before she can hit the floor, I run over to catch her mid-fall. I hold her tight while she sobs into my arms, making me feel helpless. All I can think is what a motherfucking selfish prick Oliver Lawrence really is. I pray karma catches up with him and soon!
Chapter 26
Beth
Christmas is a somber affair with just Mum and me in our little grieving house. We’ve spoken to Riley, who I know is missing both of us terribly, no matter how hard he had tried to hide it. We no doubt ran up quite the phone bill before we finally said our goodbyes to eat our Christmas dinner for two. It was hardly the feast we’d normally serve up on a day like today, but then neither of us really feel the desire to eat very much anyway. It’s my last Christmas at home, my grandfather has died, my brother and father are a whole ocean away from us, and my mother flies out tomorrow…without me.
Oliver had arrived on our doorstep yesterday, something which I hid from Mum because I didn’t want her getting any more upset or angry than she already is. She’s just lost her dad, a man we both loved and respected far more than the one trying to charm me with Christmas greetings and a perfectly wrapped gift box. The only saving grace was that he was running late for his flight and therefore had to leave almost straight away. Though not before kissing me and leaving instructions to call him the moment I had opened his present. It’s still wrapped up under the tree, taunting me with its shiny, gold, flawlessly wrapped, and decorated exterior.
My trusty bodyguard, or watchdog, should I say, is stood rigidly outside of our front door, probably having been told to be extra vigilant over any hint of Xander showing up. I half wonder what would happen if he got caught inside with us. Would Leo call Oliver and would he leave his precious Mayfield to come and ‘deal’ with me?
Whatever the answer to that question is, both Mum and I still try to convince Leo to come and join us for dinner. Of course, he politely refused, most likely being fearful of his employer finding out and reprimanding him in some weird Mayfield manner. It didn’t stop us from plating up a dish and leaving it outside for him.
After dinner, we both decide to try and snap out of our funk and head over to see the one person who is guaranteed to cheer us up. Plus, it gives my secret boyfriend a chance to sneak inside of the house while Leo accompanies us down to the beach, where Bodhi is sure to be throwing a party around the bonfire. On a day like today, he will have engaged in his naked surf, consumed turkey sandwiches, and perhaps smoked a few spliffs to get him comfortably numb.
The sight of the roaring flames almost cracks a smile out of Leo, though he would never admit it. Bodhi’s usual crowd of chilled back surfer types are all perched around on the driftwood, sitting in a ring around the crackling bonfire, sipping mulled wine, and chatting happily amongst themselves. As soon as we reach them, Annie is shoving glasses of their festive cocktail onto us, even making Leo take one with her reputable hard glare which dares anyone to argue with her. Mum and I then sit on one of the log seats, feeling much better and toasty warm when the liquor sinks easily down our throats.
“To Grandad!” I toast. “A man who liked to share his flatulence with others, who had to have fish and chips every Friday, and who once stuck a stamp to a postcard with some jam because it wouldn’t stick, and he refused to buy another one!”
We both laugh over our whimsical memories of a great man. He was someone who lived by an old set of rules and could never abide wastage, skinny supermodels, nor the flippant use of expletives.
“To Dad! Sleep peacefully,” my mother whispers with tears escaping down her face. I slip my arm around her shoulders and bring her in close so I can rest my head against hers. I can’t tell you how long we sit like this for, sipping on wine and staring at the orange flames before us, as if hypnotized by our own thoughts over such a great person.
“I guess things will be a little different next year,” I mutter sadly. She pats my head which is still resting upon her shoulder.
“Don’t give up hope, Beth!” Mum tries to soothe me. “Your birthday isn’t for a few months yet. There’s still time to solve this mess.”
“Yeah, ok,” I reply in a goofy, unconvinced voice, my sarcasm coming out in spades over the idea of there being any way out of it all. “Knowing Oliver Lawrence, he’ll want me knocked-up by next Christmas. A human incubator to deliver his super, genetic heir!” I physically shudder over the thought of it.
“How’s Kai doing?” Mum asks out of the blue, expertly changing the subject, but I let her. It is Christmas after all, and we did promise ourselves no more misery until at least midnight. “I thought you might have heard from him?”
“I’ve called nearly every day, or at least texted him, but I get nothing,” I tell her as I shrug sadly. “I guess I have to respect that. I offered to go to the funeral, but I think it was just close family.”
“So sad,” Mum murmurs before kissing my cheek. “Your father wanted to talk to you this morning…”
“Right?” Things remain tenuous between us, and I still can’t forgive him for what he did, for risking it all. Even if it was all manipulated by the Lawrences, he still went along with it.
“He misses you, Beth, he wants to talk to you,” she says with pleading in her voice, but I end up pulling away, shaking my head over the mere suggestion of it.