Page 2 of Save You
Chapter 2
Beth, now
Happy Birthday, Beth!
The drive over to Oliver’s mansion was full of nothing but silence. He had had his hand firmly attached to my thigh and an expression that warned me not to show any sort of emotion. Now that I’m here, ready to enter this new phase of my life, one that won’t really belong to me, it all feels different. True, the house might look the same as it did before, with everything is in its rightful place, but now I feel like I’m walking in a foreign country. It takes me back to how I had felt when we first moved to the States. More than that, it smells chemical, unnatural, like an altogether vomit-inducing aroma hitting all my senses at once. The sound of Oliver’s staff tip-tapping across the marble floors, together with the harsh feel of the air-conditioning, is making me shiver under the goose pimples now forming all over my exposed flesh.
All of a sudden, I feel Oliver’s large hand pressing my shirt into my back, which is about as comforting as a knifepoint. I can’t help but gasp under the feel of his fingertips and automatically turn to see his wide, predatory grin looking smug over the fact that he has finally got what he’s been after for so long. Psychotic feelings aside, Oliver sees me as a ticket to the top, to achieve his ambition to rule Mayfield. Being connected to three founding fathers will no doubt put him in first place for the top spot, making him extremely powerful, even more so than he is now.
Without the need for words, he orders me upstairs to the room in which he had beaten me with a ruler, marring my skin with red, inflamed welts. This room only instills fear in me, for it is one that will be shared with him once we are married. If this house is my prison, this room will be my cage.
Oliver follows me in shortly afterward, pacing around like a man on a mission, even though his ultimate one to possess me has already been successfully completed. He walks straight over to the walk-in wardrobe, swinging the door open widely as an invitation for me to follow.
“In here!” he barks at a couple of men, who are only now coming inside with a few sorry-looking bags that look like mine from home. When I see them sat in a small huddle on the center table, they look like hardly anything at all, especially in comparison to the vast, empty space that is to house my clothes. The men nod to me on their way out, leaving me very much alone with my fiancé who I can now see walking toward me with slow but determined steps. Once they are completely out of sight, he bends to give me a chaste kiss upon my cheek.
“Don’t worry, Beth,” he says in his deep and commanding voice, “I have already had my staff purchase some clothes for you. They’ll soon be hanging in the wardrobe with your other belongings.”
I smile tightly, not really knowing how to respond to that statement, especially when I feel so dead on the inside. Fortunately, it seems to placate him enough, and he is soon leading us back into the main room. I obediently follow him, even though my heart is practically leaping around inside of my chest. Every part of me is feeling beyond anxious over the prospect of him closing us in.
“From now on, you will dress in nothing but the best. You will need to look the part when we are married.”
I have to look away to the side to stop myself from arguing with him. Nothing good ever comes from speaking against Oliver Lawrence, so, for now, I will hold my tongue, though it pains me to do so. My training to remain the dutiful, silent wife, appears to have already started.
“Come in, Doctor!” I hear Oliver announce as the doors to the room are opened, and the familiar face of Doctor Sawyer comes into view. I hadn’t even heard him knock.
The doctor looks at me apologetically, while I lose the fight to remain expressionless. Instead, I park myself on the end of the bed with my arms firmly crossed and a petulant look upon my face. Oliver must still be gleaming over his claim of me this afternoon because he merely smirks when he sees my sudden change in demeanor. I half expected a chiding remark or even a slap to whip me into submission. Instead, he paces toward me with his usual arrogant confidence and gently takes my chin between his finger and thumb.
“I’m sorry, my darling, but this is a necessity for me. It will be the last time, I promise!”
Without waiting for any kind of response, he turns back to the doctor who begins talking in hushed tones about what Oliver would like done to me. Mainly, he would like him to check that my hymen is still intact because he is creepily obsessed with my virginity.
“I will leave you in privacy,” Oliver finally declares to the room before walking away.
“Oliver?” My voice has zero weight behind it, but it manages to get his attention, surprised though he is. “When exactly, are we to be married?”
“Impatient, are we, darling?” He grins smugly toward the man who is currently opening his bag to pretend getting out instruments for my impending physical. “Tomorrow!”
His one-word reply is said with conviction, being simple and to the point, and with no room for doubt. My heart instantly sinks to the floor in what feels like a congealed mess.
“After Doctor Sawyer is finished with you, I shall send up my team to prep you for this evening’s rehearsal dinner.”
I put on one of my practiced fake grins, one that is now part of a repertoire of insincere expressions which I have schooled myself to use. However, on the inside, I can’t help thinking about the words he’s just chosen to use -Prep me? Like I’m a piece of meat that needs to be sliced and basted before being served up to his pompous guests. My hands have already curled into tiny fists, but I smile sweetly and nod, anything to get him away from me; to stop him from making my skin crawl with anger.
“Any other questions, my darling?” he asks politely, as if already fixing his mask of being a perfect gentleman for the benefit of his guests. I simply shake my head before turning to look out the window where the gardeners are still moving around in the late afternoon sun.
Once I hear the sound of the doors clicking closed behind Oliver’s exit, I’m not surprised to see Doctor Sawyer moving hurriedly toward me, looking all of a fluster and visibly anxious over what I’m about to do next. I more than know why, but I can’t muster the energy to care about it anymore. As far as I’m concerned, my life has come to an end anyway. I may as well let Oliver do his worst to me when he finds out what I’ve already given away to somebody else.
“I wonder, Doctor Sawyer, do you have anything I might take tomorrow? Something to numb the pain for when he finds out I actually gave my virginity away to another man.” I turn to the rather plump man with an attitude he doesn’t deserve. “I’m sure it won’t be pretty when he finds out.”
“Beth,” he says, sighing heavily over my obvious decision to simply give up, “what are you going to do?”
The poor man, who has done nothing but watch out for me when he so easily could have fed me to the wolf, now looks like he’s begging for me to have some kind of plan to whip out from up my sleeve. Alas, I am out of them, particularly for this situation.
“I might strike lucky.” I shrug with lackluster, standing to look more easily inside of the garden where a sort of peace lingers within the flowers which are being forced to grow in a place that doesn’t look natural for them. “My monthly cycle is so up and down at the moment, I might well get it tomorrow, then he’d be none the wiser!” I turn to look at him with such a fake smile, I wonder if I even managed to curl my lips.
“I-is that normal for you, Beth?” he asks, with each word laced with deep concern. I have to admit, it has been playing on my mind as of late, but I’ve had other, more pressing things on my worry list too. “May I?” he gestures toward my belly.
I ponder on his question for a moment, not entirely wanting to know the answer for fear that my recent suspicions might well be confirmed. Eventually, however, I give in and go and lie down on the bed. It’s funny how this man has had me in this position so many times before, and I don’t even know his first name. And yet, this time, during this least intrusive examination of my body, I am feeling more terrified than ever.