Page 16 of Save Us
“Stephen, darling,” she beams and holds out her arms, inviting him for an embrace. I bite the inside of my cheek when I see my uncle looking all kinds of uncomfortable about it; the man likes his personal space.
On closer inspection, she appears to be a lot older than him, with dyed orange hair and a thick accent that sounds Eastern European. Her boho appearance gives the impression of someone who is extremely eccentric, if not a little flaky, but from what Stephen has told me about her, she’s one of the best reporters he’s ever worked with.
“And look, you bring me a handsome boy too!” she says with a cheeky wink before pulling me into her frail frame with a surprisingly strong grip.
After she has slapped a wet kiss on my cheek, we are shown into her small living room, complete with a fluffy cat and a waft of incense smoking in the corner. Photographs of her life appear throughout the space, revealing that she was both beautiful and desirable in her younger years. She serves us herbal tea that neither of us has agreed to but politely accept anyway.
“Now,” she begins, suddenly looking serious and ready to talk business, “Lawrence, a shady bastard, has upset many people around here, darling!” As she talks, you can see a wicked glint in her eye, as though she loves nothing more than to share her salacious conspiracies with glee. “First, there is his ex-business partner, Jonah Fox, a fellow Mayfield member who was once high up in the elite circles. Unfortunately for Jonah, he and Oliver fell out. Being the favored Mayfield darling, Oliver climbed higher, whereas Jonah became an outcast. My sources tell me he is still involved but is nowhere near the dizzy heights he once was once.”
“Still in business with Lawrence?” Stephen asks, leaning forward with keen interest.
“Oh no,” she replies, “Oliver paid him off, then had him sent packing. I believe he only got what he initially put in when they began the venture together, so he can’t have been too happy about that either. Poor Jonah was once considered his best friend at one time. They went to school together when they were boys.”
“He’s still Mayfield scum! I can’t feel too sorry for him,” I mutter bitterly.
When I look back up at her, she’s eyeing me with a deep-set frown, as if confused by my anger. It makes me feel awkward and somehow sorry for what I just said out loud.
“I agree that ‘Mayfield’ has become a horrible organization, but not all of their members are bad. It had once been a group of people who believed in helping one another, providing protection to those who may not have had the same means as others. There was a hierarchy of different backgrounds and wealth, but it was nothing like what it is today. You have the Steele family to thank for that. As one of the founding families, they had a lot of pull, and through manipulation and blackmail, they became ‘top dog’ as it were. It quickly became corrupt and only sought to serve those in charge. By that point, people were too afraid to leave, and even if they tried, those in power had the means to stop them. Can you imagine what it must be like to grow up in that kind of environment, Mr Fenton?”
“I still don’t see why someone like Jonah Fox should have my sympathy, being that he was once one of those ‘top dog’ members?”
“Fox has his own sadness to bear, Mr Fenton, much like you. Mayfield is responsible for a lot of loss, not just yours, Xander.”
Her words cause me to look at her for further explanation, for I’ve never heard of this Jonah Fox before, nor of his suffering through the hands of Mayfield. Not that this is altogether surprising, a lot of their dealings are hidden. I make a mental note to look up his name as soon as we’re back home. In the meantime, I wait for her to elaborate. However, she simply grabs hold of the cat rubbing its neck against her shins, looking ready to change the subject.
“From what I know, Jonah would have made Mayfield a much different, much more positive organization.” She kisses the cat’s head, then smiles sadly. “Why do you think Carl Steele gave Lawrence his backing? Why do you think he was so happy for Lawrence to marry his long-lost granddaughter? She was special to you, no?”
She continues staring at me, seemingly waiting for an answer I don’t want to give her because it’s too hard to talk about Beth like that. It’s too painful to acknowledge she was related to an evil man, and being that she was, became nothing more than a pawn in their corruption. Instead, I eventually lower my eyes to the floor and audibly sigh.
“Anyway, rumor has it, Jonah has more than one score to settle with Lawrence. I would put money on him not having given up trying to seek vengeance on his former business partner,” she continues, as though we hadn’t just gone off course from the conversation at hand. “Over the years, he has been getting close to a few gangs who Lawrence has upset for one reason or another. Apparently, one particular gang, Acid Brothers, has paired up with Fox to try and take Lawrence down. Their leader, a man named K, is said to be responsible for the abduction of Oliver’s wife yesterday.”
“Jesus, how the hell do you know that already?” Stephen smiles at her, but she simply taps the side of her nose with her finger and winks mischievously.
“What has Lawrence done to upset them?” I ask, forcing myself to shake off the effects of her earlier inquisition.
“I haven’t been able to find that out yet,” she replies with an apologetic smile. “K is a very private person, even if he is the head of one of the most violent gangs in New York. All I know is, he’s young, bitter, and out for Lawrence’s blood. He and Fox make the perfect pair; I would keep my eye on them if I were you.”
Beth
It would seem my punishment for seeing the love of my life was to have Oliver try and impregnate me as aggressively as he possibly could. He has a penchant for strangling me when he’s particularly stressed and will have no doubt left telling fingerprint bruises all over my neck. He’ll expect me to wear appropriate clothing to cover them until they have faded so he can maintain his loving husband façade in front of his colleagues and staff.
After he rolls off from me with a satisfied sigh, he pulls me over toward his naked body. It takes every ounce of strength not to burst into gut-wrenching tears. Seeing Xander up close and in the flesh, rather than just being an imaginary image caught inside my head, has left me feeling even dirtier, even more defiled than usual. All I can do is lie flat against the bed and stare into the corners of the blank ceiling while he drapes his arm possessively over my waist and stomach. Alas, I can feel him boring his eyes into the side of my head. I try to pretend I don’t notice until he eventually gives in and leans up to stare into my eyes, giving me no choice but to look back at him.
“I love you, Beth,” he whispers with what he believes is sincerity. “I knew I would fall when I first met you in your parents’ kitchen all those years ago. Do you love me?”
Rendered speechless by his blunt question after who I’ve seen today, I close my eyes and remain silent, even though I know it will land me in trouble for not saying yes straight away. However, words fail me, for surely, he already knows the real answer to that question.
“Beth? Answer your husband!” he orders with an undeniable level of threat to his voice. Even as he says the words, I can feel his hand creeping back up toward my neck again. Still, it isn’t enough for my voice to work, for my mental capacity to acknowledge the peril I’m now in, for I’ve grown far too desensitized to it over the years. I’m not even shocked when he begins to tighten his grip on my already bruised skin. Not even when it becomes hard for me to breathe. “Do.You.Love.Me?”
His growl and bared teeth do nothing to prompt an answer from me, instead, I merely glare back at him with a kind of expressionless defiance. Consequently, he squeezes all the harder. This has become a common occurrence between him and me, a challenge from which neither of us is willing to back down.
Just before I feel like I could blissfully pass out and exit this existence, he punishes me even more by releasing me to cough and splutter; to remain living. My natural instincts force me into taking gulps of air to try and counteract the oxygen starvation that had begun to take over my entire body. It prompts my brain to act, and I try to get out of bed. I do not get far before he pulls me back under him, so quickly that I am soon pinned to the mattress, trembling beneath his much larger body.
“Tell me, or I’ll really hurt you, Beth!”
“I fear you, Oliver,” I whisper, “how can you love someone you are terrified of?”
“And what if I changed for you, Beth?” he asks with his brow now furrowed, as though contemplating how to get his own way. It forces him to relent into releasing his softer side, a side that rarely surfaces. “What if I didn’t scare you anymore? Would you love me then?”