Page 14 of Save Us
“Leo, get Pru!” he barks at Leo without even looking at him. “I want my wife cleaned up and ready for bed!”
Leo looks cautiously at me before doing as he’s told. I begin to open my mouth to protest but he shoves his right index finger to my lips to silence me.
“You look drained, darling; I want you to have some proper rest. After all, we have a baby to try and make.”
He leans in and kisses me with a hunger I know I’ll be expected to feed. The thought of which makes my stomach turn.
Xander
Stephen and I stand in front of the large, ostentatious Manhattan townhouse in front of us for a while before finally knocking on the door. I have to take a moment or two to believe we’re really here with my enemy living and breathing but a few meters away. We haven’t made an appointment, but I’m guessing Oliver Lawrence will make a special exception in order to see the last man to have talked to Beth. If not, hell, I’ll use brute force if I have to. I have that much adrenaline coursing through my veins, I feel like nothing can stop me.
“You ready?” Stephen asks as I picture myself ripping the man limb from limb. It would be bloody and slow, with me having a giant grin on my face.
I don’t answer him with words, instead, I walk right up to the red-painted door and pull on the ridiculous lion head knocker three times. The sound of which is unapologetically loud and obnoxious. Stephen quickly joins me on the top step but is careful to keep himself firmly behind. He knows this is my show, my vendetta; I want to be the one that lays the message on thick and fast. Oliver Lawrence your reign is coming to an end, and it will be me telling the world exactly who you are.
“Good afternoon?” a well-dressed housekeeper asks with a face that appears less friendly than her words.
“My name is Xander Fenton,” I smile with charm and fake sophistication, “tell Lawrence I want to see him, now!”
As soon as she tries to close the door on my face whilst simultaneously telling me that Mr Lawrence isn’t seeing anyone, I plant my large right foot inside, effectively preventing her from closing it. Her face suddenly looks horrified, and within moments, a burly man I recognize comes up behind her.
Expecting Mr GI Joe wannabe to shove a gun in my face, or to at least manhandle me in some sort of thuggish manner, he shocks me by telling ‘Pru’ to go and get Lawrence immediately. She adheres to the instruction but not without huffing and puffing, letting everyone know how inconvenient this all is. Meanwhile, the bodyguard and I are having a silent stare off, with me looking angry as hell, but him looking like he’s seen a ghost.
“Well, well, well, Mr Fenton,” the smug and arrogant voice of Lawrence rings through my ears like a bad memory. He surfaces like an evil villain coming back from the dead.
“Lawrence,” I grit through my teeth, which only causes him to grin all the more sadistically over my reaction.
I feel Stephen’s cautious hand pressing against my arm, telling me to cool it down a notch, that we’ve only just arrived and losing my shit now is not the way we want this to go down. I take the warning and eventually turn my clenched expression into a tight-lipped smile.
“We heard about your wife and wondered if you could spare us a few minutes to answer some questions.
It could help return her safely back into your clutches…I mean, arms.” We both smile at one another before he nods to Leo, who then disappears back upstairs, leaving us alone to converse with the devil. Lawrence eventually shows us into his horribly decorated living room, the type that some upper-class prick must have designed back in the nineteenth century.
“Can I get you a drink, gentlemen?” he offers as he pours himself a glass of whiskey. He proceeds to pour two more without waiting for an answer from either one of us.
Meanwhile, Stephen and I take a seat on the sofa, which is about as comfortable as a stone bench on a cold day. Oliver walks slowly over to us with determined footsteps that keep us waiting on his terms. Stephen accepts his drink with a tight set of lips and a subtle nod, whereas I keep him waiting for my acceptance a little longer, all the while with a smirk on my face. He merely smiles back at me, looking just as cocky, and just as hateful.
“You are legal now, Mr Fenton,” he grins with his teeth on show.
“Just as Beth would have been,” I reply bitterly, then take the drink and swig it back in one gulp, enjoying the burn of expensive liquor sliding down my throat. Our eyes remain locked on one another the whole time, as if in a silent battle.
“I wonder if you still would have wanted her, now that she wouldn’t be an underage girl still in high school?”
His smile drops a little and I revel in his uncomfortableness. I finally allow my eyes to move away from his, feeling happy in the fact that I won that battle of wills.
“I do not wish to talk about Beth,” he says quietly, as if it pains him. “She will always be the love of my life, even if you did steal her from me!”
“I didn’t steal anything, Lawrence. You see, Beth was never an object to own. She was a living, breathing person with her own heart. A heart she should have been free to give to anyone of her choosing. Unfortunately for you, she chose me.”
“Why have you come here, Fenton?” he asks with a sigh before turning his back on me. I do not answer straight away, instead I take another sip, watching as he walks toward an armchair where he sits confidently, as if it’s his own personal throne. “My wife is back safely; there is no need to investigate her disappearance.”
“Well, thank God!” I feign relief and slap Stephen on the arm, acting like I’m overjoyed by the news. “How about a photo of the two of you?”
I’m taunting him, of course, for I know as well as anyone, nobody is allowed to take pictures of his secret bride.
“No!” he snaps and turns his head to the side, signaling he is not going to offer anything else on the subject.
When he turns back to me, we smile smugly at one another, and I wait for his turn to dig at me. This seems to be the direction this meeting is headed.