Page 81 of Save Me
“I’m not angry with you, Beth,” I grit through my clenched teeth, “but you gotta see it from my point of view!”
Like pouring gasoline over a naked flame, her saddened expression instantly turns into full outrage. I almost flinch from the darkness marring her normally beautiful blue eyes. Beth and I have never argued before, but I think I’m about to get a taste of it.
“Your point of view?!” she growls, sounding eerily quiet, but with so much bite to her tone of voice, I feel like she’s going to lunge for my jugular. “I’m sorry, but do you have to marry someone who is part of some fucked up organization that treats women as second-class citizens? Do you have to play the dutiful and obedient fiancé to some jerk who has beaten me, sexually assaulted me, and had me routinely checked to see if my hymen is still intact? Do you have to resign yourself to being a personal sex slave to someone who is so dangerous, I can’t even report him to someone official without there being serious threat to my family and friends’ lives?”
Before I can collect my thoughts to backtrack and tame the wild beast before me, she huffs and throws back the duvet so she can jump up and march away from me to the bathroom.
“Beth!” I shout, but she’s already slammed the door in my face, which I’m guessing is her silent way of telling me to go fuck myself because I’m an insensitive jerk.
Crossing over to the firm surface of the slammed, ‘fuck off’ door, I lean my ear against it to try and ascertain just how bad this is. When I hear her crying and gasping for breath as she does so, I instantly feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.
“Please, Beth,” I beg through the barrier between us, “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. Jesus, you have enough to be dealing with. The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel worse!”
“Everything is so fucked up it’s almost comical,” she sobs, “but you are my rock, Xander, my constant, and now you’re losing it on me as well. I can’t deal with it, Xander!”
“I know, baby,” I say on a heavy sigh, just loud enough for her to hear me, with my head now leaning back against the wooden frame and frowning over how horribly right she is. “Please let me in?”
“No,” she sniffs again, “I just wanna be on my own.”
“Not gonna happen, Beth!” I brace myself as I say this, knowing how much more pissed-off it’s going to make her.
“Why the hell not?!”
“Because I can see you falling,” I reply, as a hard, painful lump begins to form in my throat. “If I don’t stop you, you’re gonna let all of this destroy you and I couldn’t deal with that, Beth.”
I’m met with stony silence, so I end up standing there like an impotent cock, not knowing what to do for the best. I debate whether to call out again or to wait until she’s good and ready. I have no idea seeing as I’ve never dated someone for this long, or this seriously before. I was always over and out before this stage of the proceedings.
Just as I’m about to probably put my foot in it again, I hear her get up and unlock the door, eventually opening it so we can face one another. She’s wrapped in one of her fluffy white towels, halfway to tears and looking sulkily to the side, looking like she’s admitting defeat over my argument to stay with her. Without any words, I gather her up in my arms and place her back inside of her bed, tucking her in tight when she begins to shiver.
I get in beside her and lock her inside of my body, sharing my warmth even though she feels hot to touch. She sniffs now and then before finally falling into sleep, leaving me to worry about her mental state of mind; something I have absolutely no idea how to handle.
I end up staying up for most of the night, feeling so protective of my girl, that I don’t want to leave her, even if it’s just in sleep. When I do eventually fall, it’s only to have anxious dreams that probably have me tossing and turning. I’ll no doubt feel no more rested by the time I wake. When I do, I hear the sound of Beth retching noisily inside of the bathroom.
Once I’m over my initial disorientation, I leap out of bed and practically run to the bathroom where I find her huddled over the toilet, vomiting every few minutes. I move quickly to her side and rub my hand over her back, wincing when I see how deathly pale she looks. Her eyes are sallow and her whole demeanor diminished.
As she slowly dies over the porcelain bowl, I try to think about what we ate last night, but nothing particularly outstanding springs to mind. She’s so low at the moment, I can’t help worrying over her ability to cope with yet something else. It’s as if her body has finally synchronized with her sadness and has decided to give into feeling the same way.
“Babe,” I whisper, “is this the first time you’ve been sick?”
She shakes her head before resting against her arm on the toilet seat, her body trembling with the aftershock of being so violently sick.
“I started feeling rough a few days ago when Oliver gave me a set of keys to his house,” she explains, “as a Christmas gift.”
Even though I want nothing more than to give into my rage and beat things to shit, I resist that temptation and continue to rub circles against her withered frame. Her trembling turns into a shiver, so I pick her up to carry her back to bed before creeping down to the kitchen to grab her a bowl.
While I’m there, at the back of the house and out of earshot of Leo, who appears to have just arrived for the daily shift of pointless guarding, I call my sister, Casey. I want Beth to see a doctor, a real doctor, not some lackey working for Oliver Lawrence. If I call a doctor, I’ll need someone to answer the door for them, so Casey will have to be my best bet. She can pose as one of Beth’s girlfriends.
“What!” she finally answers, sounding irritated by how early I’ve woken her up from her ‘beauty sleep’, as she likes to call it. “Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?!”
“Chill out, Casey,” I snap, “I do believe you can pay me back for all those little weed runs I’ve done for you and your asshole of a boyfriend. I’m going to send you an address and I want you to get over here as soon as possible.”
“Oh shit, really?!” she whines, making it damn hard not to lose my temper with her.
“Yes, really, princess!” I growl through clenched teeth. “Oh, and they’ll be a guard outside when you get here.”
“Wait! What the fuck?” I smirk over having piqued her interest. “What kind of fucked up situation have you gotten yourself into now, Xander?”
“Just tell him you’re Beth’s friend from school, make up a name. Better yet, use one of your friend’s names.” It wouldn’t surprise me if Leo reports back every last detail of Beth’s comings and goings to Oliver. At least her being here will seem legit if Casey uses a real person’s name. “And whatever you do, don’t let him know I am here. You got me?”