Page 1 of Save You

Prologue

Past

Pru hasn’t entered the Lawrence household in over thirteen years, but now that she is here again, an overwhelming feeling of fear still enters her body. Even though her husband, Edward, is by her side, it doesn’t make her feel any safer than when she was a twenty-year-old nanny. If it had been up to Pru, she would never have come tonight, and she certainly wouldn’t have brought her impressionable ten-year-old daughter along with them. Edward, however, was a Mayfield man who believed in subservience from his wife; his word was always the final one inside of their household.

Besides, the whole reason for this fancy affair is to celebrate Oliver’s birthday. After all, it’s not every day a boy who you loved like your own turns into a man at the end of his twenty-first year. She sincerely hoped he was the same person who she had left behind, just before she married Edward.

Guards line the long driveway, with each carrying a loaded weapon to keep the numerous threats that were constantly aimed at the top elite members, far away from tonight’s event. They made her feel more nervous, even though they were being sold to the guests as added protection. She still remembers the awful day when a delivery boy was accidentally shot by one of the guards, causing irreparable damage to his spine; he never walked again. The blood spilled that day will forever be ingrained in Pru’s memory. In fact, she thinks of it daily, and always with it leaving her in a cold sweat.

Once inside the grand entrance, she takes in the rooms she once walked a thousand times, back when she was in employment here, only now they are decorated in whites and golds, looking akin to a lavish wedding reception. Other guests gasp and whisper their awe and wonder over the fancy façade, even Edward and their ten-year-old daughter laugh with shock as they point at the various decorative details that cover the entire household. As for Pru, she shivers over the memories of what she had once seen between these walls. She cannot see the beauty in tonight’s decorations, only the playback of powerful men taking advantage of the weak and beautiful. She was one of the very few lucky ones to have gotten out unscathed.

“Mommy, did you really work here?” Faye asks her with amazement, looking as though she is walking inside the home of a famous pop star. For in Mayfield circles, the Lawrences, the Steeles, and, to a lesser extent, the Foxes, are seen as the rich and famous, with some at the very top, being treated like royalty.

“Yes, sweetheart,” she replies with a fake smile. “Stay close to your father and me, Faye. Don’t go anywhere by yourself!”

“No, Mommy,” she answers with a smile that always warms her mother’s heart; it is also the very reason why Pru is being so cautious this evening. However, Edward’s desire to show off their daughter, along with Faye’s pleading, had eventually forced Pru into submission.

“Come on, darling,” Edward says with a tight smile before whispering into her ear, “at least try to look like you’re happy to be here, for Faye’s sake!”

“I am,” she lies, “I just…I want to make sure-”

Pru is suddenly cut off mid-sentence by the sound of one of the staff banging a loud gong from the front of the hall. In fact, the noise instantly silences the entire household.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” a gentleman speaker announces in a loud and impressive voice, “please be upstanding for your host, Mr Samuel Lawrence!”

The room echoes with rounds of applause as the man who used to make her tremble and pray to God every day, walks through the grand hall with his wife hanging off his arm like a flawless Mayfield spouse. To anyone else, they look like the perfect couple, doting on one another and being loyal to their relationship. Pru is one of a few who know how much of a lie their marriage is, how much they despise one another, and would rather sleep with a rancid carcass than their significant other.

Once he reaches the platform at the end, he stands tall and allows himself to indulge in his moment of adoration from the congregation below. Even Pru’s husband shouts and cheers for the man who had tried his best to corner her on a number of occasions. Faye looks awestruck but is waiting for the man of the hour to enter the room. She is a regular fangirl of Oliver Lawrence and has pictures of him all over her room like he’s the latest Hollywood blockbuster heartthrob. Pru just hopes he is still the good-natured little boy she had left all those years ago. Sadly, she has her doubts.

“Welcome, welcome, my most esteemed guests!” Samuel finally cries out, silencing the crowd as they wait with bated breath for him to announce the arrival of his only son. “It’s not every day your only child turns of age, and I am so glad to share this moment with you. Oliver makes me proud every single day, and I have no doubt that he will go far…”

He begins to talk for what feels like years, taking the opportunity to revel in an audience listening to his voice; something most Mayfield men enjoy having. The fake, painful smiles on people’s faces begin to slip as they grow impatient for Oliver’s arrival. Meanwhile, Pru takes a moment to scan the room, to see who is gracing everyone with their presence this evening.

First, she spots some descendants of the Boone family, who remain quiet, almost as if they are trying to stay hidden. Being related to one of the founding members might have had you believe they would be looking proud of who they are, but after Rosalie Bennett’s infamous escape to England, they are still looked down upon as the embodiment of her disgrace. Her parents are no longer living, and she too, is dead as far as anyone knows. Anyone important, anyway. But the memory of what she did still hangs heavy in the air whenever they attend an event such as this one.

The Lawrences stand proudly by the side of the Steele family who all look like they have a smell under their nose. Consorting with the ‘riff raff’ is never high up on their agenda but seeing as Oliver Lawrence is beginning to climb the social ranks, and is a ‘Lawrence’, a family they have always allied with, it would seem they have thought this event to be important enough to grace the mob with their presence.

Finally, the Fox family, who stand together looking neither proud nor ashamed. They have always run the middle road of politics; always fair, always just, but still above the folk who aren’t related to the founding members. People like Pru and Edward. However, when she looks to the entrance, where Samuel and his wife had just entered, she spots a familiar face, a face she used to read bedtime stories to. He is not alone. In fact, he is standing with another familiar face, one belonging to a little boy whom she used to regularly chastise for getting Oliver into mischief. He was always the boy who could win you round with a cheeky grin and a charming compliment. A boy who she had to admit, she had very much liked; Oliver’s best friend, Jonah Fox.

As Pru watches the past catching up with her, she takes in the two boys before her and feels proud of the men they’ve grown into. Jonah, who is slightly taller than Oliver, leans down frequently to whisper inside of Oliver’s ear, causing him to laugh and shake his head playfully. Oliver, who is extremely attractive, and from what she’s heard, very intelligent, mutters back to him. Whatever he just said causes them both to place their hands up to their mouths to stop themselves from giggling during his father’s long-winded speech.

Unable to help herself, Pru squeezes Edward’s hand before releasing it, then leans back a little so she might be able to listen in on the boys’ conversation.

“Your father is still talking!” Jonah gasps. “How the fuck is he still talking about you? It’s not like you’re anything special, is it? You’d think it was your birthday or something!”

“Shut up!” Oliver replies jovially, slapping at his best friend’s shuddering frame. “I’m more important than the king, don’t you know?”

“Yeah, king dick!” Jonah teases. “Where’re Chad and Felicity?”

“Who knows? Who cares?” Oliver sighs, now with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Probably humping one another!”

“Dude, that’s gross!” Jonah replies with a grimace. “Plus, they’re related to me, so watch your mouth, Lawrence!”

“Why? You gonna do something about it, meathead?” Oliver pushes with a smug expression. “I think we can all agree that out of the two of us, I’m in the lead when it comes to that old bastard, Carl Steele. I’m virtually untouchable!”

“Jesus, full of yourself much?” Jonah shakes his head but seems to be the more relaxed of the two, instantly giving way to Oliver’s threatening nature. “Besides, you’re welcome to him. If I have to listen to him spout off about tradition and getting turned on by old-dated crap, I think I might stab myself in the eye with a fork! Sexist prick!”

“Play the game, my friend, play the game!” Oliver smirks to himself, right before Samuel announces his name to the hall, summoning him to the front so everyone can wish him a happy birthday.

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