Page 84 of Save Me
Annie smiles and goes off to get what I asked for. Meanwhile, Bodhi lies on the bed beside me, looking like a giant kid doubling up as a best friend slash brother slash father figure.
“I guess I better call the Prince of Darkness,” I sigh sadly, “he might show up, otherwise.”
“Too late,” Bodhi mutters when he glances over toward the window. “Bastard alert outside! You ready, kiddo?”
I sneer before nodding my head. Best get this over with!
Bodhi has to bite his lips together when we hear a sudden barrage of angry voices piping up from downstairs. Oliver’s is low and trying its best to sound threatening toward the rage-filled tone of Annie, who is now calling him a whole host of names, some that would have your mother blushing. The sound of thundering footsteps upon the stairs has me bracing myself, and I feel Bodhi give me a tight squeeze before the monster is at the door and letting himself in.
As always, he’s dressed immaculately in his business suit and with a creepy frown of concern all over his face. When he sees Bodhi lying beside me, he looks ready to kill, though Bodhi still offers him nothing more than a big, smug, fake smile. I can tell it’s taking a lot of willpower for him not to let loose his rage over my hairy friend beside me. Instead, he theatrically stalks over to place his cold hand on my forehead and look me over as if he’s a medical expert.
“How are you? Are you ok? I think I should call my own physician!” he says arrogantly.
I’m tempted to ask if he wants me to be checked out for the flu or to see if my hymen is still intact, but, with all my willpower, I manage to hold my tongue.
“I’m fine,” I reply with a dramatic eye roll, “I had the flu and now I’m on the way out of it. Please don’t bother your doctor again.”
My response brings out the weird, slightly creepy, romantic side of Oliver as he cups my cheek and smiles affectionately. I can’t even begin to look at Bodhi for fear of laughing over his reaction, even though he is still on the bed beside me and showing no sign of moving.
“How did I know I’d get that kind of response from you? God, you’re beautiful, even when you’re sick!” The impulsive side of my brain wins out and when I glance into the mirror in front of the bed, I see Bodhi feigning to be sick, but all I can do is bite my lips together. Oliver, of course, doesn’t find his antics so amusing and narrows his eyes toward my bedfellow before barking at him. “Will you please leave us? I’m trying to talk to my fiancé and your immaturity is putting me off!”
“My immaturity?!” Bodhi says before letting out a loud, taunting laugh. “Says the guy who chucks his toys out the pram when the girl he’s threatening doesn’t play ball? I like that, Ollie, I really do!” The bed bounces a little when Bodhi finally hauls himself from my bed and walks toward the door. I want to scream out for him to stay, but when he turns, he winks in silent support. “Shout, water baby, if the jerk tries it on.”
Oliver snarls at him like an angry lion getting ready to attack another alpha for mating rights. Only, Bodhi isn’t an animal like him, so simply shrugs and exits the room with a grin still firmly plastered across his face.
“I have arranged for your grandfather to have dinner with us next Saturday, providing you are well enough,” he informs me. “Until then, I expect you to rest, stay in bed, and phone me every day to keep me posted on your condition.”
“Oh, Lord, Oliver, please don’t tell me I will be expected to go on bed rest during every minor illness or injury? I am not a precious doll.”
He looks at me as if reminding me of my place in this relationship, one where I should hold my tongue, and never, ever, argue with him. Perhaps my bout of flu has temporarily broken down the filter between my brain and mouth, but I know I’m about to be brought up on it.
“You will be expected to do as you’re told by your husband,” he says with a hint of a threat in his voice. “You will be expected to look after yourself and if it means I tie you to the damn bed, Beth, so help me, I will! Do you understand me?”
A mental image of me finally being able to deliver a hard punch to his smug face flashes in front of me as I bite my lips together and nod obediently. I always hate myself for having to give into his every whim but it is only for fear of him hurting someone I care about. The fact that he has caused me several injuries since I’ve known him doesn’t seem to apply to his concerns over my health, they’re just a given. He no doubt placates himself by explaining them away as something that ‘helps’ rather than ails me. A metallic taste of blood touches my tongue and I realize I’ve broken through my skin with my clenched teeth.
“Good girl!” he murmurs with an arrogance that would push anyone to the limits of their patience. “Now, I want you to rest. I will go when you fall asleep and pick you up at four o’clock on Saturday.”
Nothing is going to make me fall asleep with the devil at my side, so I have to do a stellar performance of pretending to instead.
Chapter 28
Beth
“Eating healthily, I see?” My mother practically laughs when she walks in to find me sprawled out across the sofa watching gory horror flicks, the type that leaves nothing to the imagination. In front of me is something that you can only just about manage to call food floating halfway up to my mouth. “How are you, baby girl?”
I peel myself off from the sofa, which is now being disguised by a ton of wrappers and crumbs and run over to grab her like I’m six years old again. She giggles when I squeeze hold of her tightly and begins running her fingers through my unbrushed hair.
“You, ok? You’re, er, smelling rather fragrant, I have to say!”
“Just missed you,” I whisper while grimacing over the smell of my pits that I’ve just checked out. Unfortunately, she’s not exaggerating when she says I smell. I’d most likely scare off a bear with the waft I’m emitting. “How was the funeral? Was it awful?”
“The service was pretty hard, I won’t lie,” she says before leading me back to the sofa where she has to brush the detritus of crap food and plastic wrappers out the way before she can find a space to sit on. “The after-party was nice though. They all asked where you were,” she says sympathetically, and I have to look away to stop myself from tearing up.
“What did you tell them?” I ask quietly.
“I told them…” she trails off with a sad sigh and a guilty expression, “I told them you were sick. This is why I hate lying because karma ends up coming back on me. I feel like it’s my fault you got the flu!”
“Oh, Mum,” I nudge her with a smirk, “don’t be so ridiculous!”