Page 88 of Save Me
Every now and then, I involuntarily gasp as a flash of pain strikes through my sore skin. These moments are so painful, I have to pause to let them subside before I can walk again. Mum is patient and remains quiet, but I can tell she’s holding back emotions that she must know I can’t deal with right now.
I’m only footsteps away from my bedroom door when I see it fly open. Within seconds, Xander is walking out to see what the hell is going on. He takes in my hobbling, my makeshift ‘mum’ crutch, as well as my screwed-up face, and covers his mouth with both hands, seemingly unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. Moments later, he is flying to my side and swooping me up inside of his arms and carrying me to the bed.
Embarrassingly, he seems to already know where the source of my pain is coming from, so positions me gently onto my side before kneeling to stroke back my sweaty hair. His expression is so intense and so concerned for me, tears are already streaming over my cheeks.
“What.The.Fuck.Did.He.Do?!” he asks, sounding eerily calm while trying to keep his anger at bay, even though it’s already at the very surface of his self-control.
Sobs rack my body, so all I can do is shake my head as I am momentarily silenced by sadness and fear. He waits a while before he gently lifts the hem of my dress to look at what has me so crippled in pain.
As soon as the cold air hits the heat of my fresh, welted skin, I hear both my mother and boyfriend take in audible breaths of shock and horror.
“Holy fuck, Beth,” he whispers, “Jesus fucking Christ!”
“Beth,” Mum sobs, “tell me, baby, what did he do to you?”
I only cry harder over her question because I can’t even begin to form the words to answer her.
“He struck her with a long, metal ruler,” a low voice shocks us all. I already know who it belongs to without even looking.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Xander spits out venomously as he leaps to his feet in outrage. “Mayfield motherfucker!”
“I’m not Mayfield!” Leo shouts as if being deeply insulted by the notion that he belongs to such a thing. “I work for the asshole, but I am most certainly not Mayfield!”
“Why are you guarding her then?” Mum asks with complete confusion, voicing what we all want to know.
“Because he doesn’t trust anyone in Mayfield to keep her safe without some sort of agenda,” Leo replies with a pained sigh, then takes a risk by pacing toward us. “He hired my father and me when we were close to losing everything. Offered us an amazing package for our discretion and our ability to turn a blind eye.” He moves in front of me so at least I can now see him properly. His eyes zero in on mine before saying quietly, “I’m so sorry, Miss Taylor. I had no idea what Mayfield was or how much power he had, but now that I do, I’m stuck. I have a son, he’s seven and living with his mother. Mr Lawrence has already threatened them both.”
“Wh-who is your father?” I ask with an unsteady voice.
“Samuel, the driver.” He glances over his shoulder as in gesture toward him, even though he left a while ago. “The way Mr Lawrence treats you is crippling him with guilt.”
I note the fresh tears in his eyes, knowing exactly how stuck he feels and how much he wants to do what is right for his family, even if it means sacrificing himself. I’m there with him. In a tender moment of solidarity and friendship, I hold my hand out for his, which he eyes with caution before finally placing his inside of it. We then smile at one another, silently letting the other know that we are in the same boat, whether we like it or not.
“I’m so sorry, Beth!”
“It’s not your fault,” I whisper with my voice sounding weak from sheer exhaustion. “I’m sorry I make you come running with me.”
He chuckles a little with what looks like a genuine smile, before pecking me on the cheek.
“I can’t stop guarding you, but I will continue to turn a blind eye.”
He smiles mischievously, glancing between Xander and me, while both of us look a little horrified over the fact that he knows about us. When he laughs softly again, this time over our awkward blushes, I squeeze his hand a little tighter to say thank you.
Even though I have had enough ice placed on top of my butt to house a small family of penguins, it’s still incredibly sore when I return to school on Monday. Every time I sit, a small gasp escapes my lips, which earns me some very strange looks from both the students and teachers. No one says anything but by lunchtime, I choose to hang out in the library, opting to lose myself in a good book rather than sit all alone in the hall. Under normal circumstances, I may have tried to reach out for some new friends, but I’ll admit, I’m on a downer and can’t really see the point.
By the time it gets to Social Sciences that afternoon, I’m in desperate need of more ice, or at least some cream, and a large bed of fluffy cushions on which to rest my rather limp body. I can’t even stop myself from looking straight over at Xander as soon as I enter the room. He looks particularly gorgeous today and seeing as I’m feeling sorry for myself, I just want to run over and curl myself onto his lap and cling to him forever. To be fair, he has the same pitiful amount of willpower, seeing as he gives me the once over with a lustful smirk upon his lips.
Lost in our own wicked thoughts about what we would like to do with one another, Leo theatrically clears his throat from behind me, prompting us both to immediately look away from one another. It causes me to forget about my injuries, so end up wincing with a growl of pain when I shuffle inside of my chair a little too enthusiastically.
“Check it out,” Kyle snickers from behind me, “Taylor’s obviously been getting some anal action. Girl’s been moaning all day whenever she sits on her ass!”
The whole room bursts into raucous laughter while I inwardly curse the idiot. Xander begins to scrape his chair back, obviously feeling too angry to remember to keep a low profile when it comes to me. However, the voice that comes to my defense isn’t Xander’s; in fact, it’s a voice that completely surprises me in that it’s usually giving me just as much hell as Kyle is.
“Shut the fuck up, Kyle!” Casey hisses. I can’t help but turn toward the commotion, just to check my ears aren’t playing tricks on me.
Low and behold, when I face Kyle and his usual cronies, Casey is stood before him with her hand firmly on her hip, and the other one pointing at him. The poor guy looks just as shocked as I am.
“And while we’re at it, stop calling me,” she huffs, looking at him like he’s nothing more than a piece of filth on the ground. “If I wanted to talk to an immature prick, I’d call you, but I don’t, so take the hint!”