Page 12 of Save You

My eyes widen with shock and horror over such a declaration. What the hell has happened? Surely Bodhi wouldn’t have shot a guy?

“Fuck!” Oliver snarls with anger, only now letting me go. “I will be back soon,” he says reluctantly to me, and in such a way that it sounds threatening. “Do not leave until I am here with you!” he instructs, then turns toward the guy who now appears to be sweating profusely. “Get Henley up here, immediately. I do not want anything to happen to Beth. Where is the body?”

“What?” the guy sputters with his eyes now doubling in size. “What body, Sir?”

“Rogers,” Oliver growls, “where is Rogers? His body?”

“Oh…oh…er…, he’s not dead, Sir, I meant he’s out cold. A small explosion caused some debris to fly in his direction. Sorry for the…er…confusion.” He looks away before he has to face Oliver’s wrath, and I wince for the poor man.

“Fucking moron!” Oliver growls low and menacingly before marching past him. The guy looks at me uncomfortably before apologizing and running after his boss, aka, Satan in a tux.

I instinctively place my two hands across my stomach and let out one long breath to steady my nerves. I then pace toward the doors to close them. A new, even beefier bodyguard, appears at the side, looking both stern and mean. He says nothing to me but nods his head in acknowledgment, chewing on his gum while he folds his hands out in front of his groin. I see the radio on his hip and the outline of a handgun hidden beneath his jacket, causing a flutter of nerves deep inside of me. When he catches me studying it, I sort of smile but try not to at the same time. I can only imagine how insane I look right now. Still, I manage to close the doors on him without damaging myself, which is a miracle considering how fucking nervous I am.

Leaning against the door, I slowly breathe out again before looking left, then right, though for what, I have no idea. My fingers tremble together while my hands visibly shake, so I ball them into fists and begin to pace. Either someone comes to my rescue, or Oliver will return, try to fuck me, then probably kill me when he finds out I haven’t saved my hymen for him.

Trying to think rationally, I decide to go and wait by the huge ornate window, and perch on the seat in front of it. The guests to Oliver’s little soiree are still arriving in either over-priced sports cars or James Bond-worthy classics. As I steady myself to watch them all filtering through, I at least begin to calm down.

As I look at the nameless faces greeting Oliver’s mother and father at the front entrance, I hear a gentle tapping coming from the bathroom. At first, I take no notice of it, my mind being too preoccupied with the parade of guests coming to gawk at me, all because I am a relation of the great Carl Steele and being forced to marry his protégé, Oliver Lawrence.

“Psst!”

The sound of someone expelling air in the bathroom makes me leap to my feet and practically gallop toward it to see who it is. When I get there, it takes a while for me to register what I’m seeing, or rather, who I’m seeing.

“Hey, water baby!” Bodhi’s happy smiling head is comically popping up from the bottom of the bathroom window with a giant grin on his face. His hairy exterior, in complete contrast to the ridiculously lavish surroundings, has me smiling at him with the widest, toothiest grin I’ve ever given anyone.

As though the wolves are literally at my back, I run over to his floating head, only stopping halfway to throw my ridiculous shoes over my shoulder before I break my neck on them. I grip his beautiful, smiling head between my hands and begin kissing him all over, with tears of joy and relief running freely over my cheeks.

“Oh my God! You’ve saved my life!”

“Of course, baby,” he laughs as I continue kissing him, “and as much as I’m enjoying having a sexy gal in a red dress kiss me all over, we need to make a move, like, now!”

When I finally pull back to look out the window, I notice he’s currently stood at the top of a ladder that stands all the way from the ground and up to this very window.

“How the hell did you get hold of that?” I whisper shout as I begin climbing out while he descends the ladder. The rungs feel odd underneath my bare feet, but that’s not what I’m worried about at all. Not when I can hear shouting coming from what I assume, is the western side of the property. “And what exactly was the distraction you pulled?”

“Your friend, the doc, bribed one of the gardeners,” he says between breaths, “and I kind of had a few, not-so-legal fireworks left over from New Year.”

As soon as his feet reach the safety of the ground, he reaches up and pulls me down from the ladder. My feet hit the soft, cool grass and it feels like freedom. I glance up at the lit window we just escaped from, and it makes my nerves jump up a notch, knowing how very differently this might have played out had Bodhi not come to my rescue.

“Come on, water baby,” he whispers and throws a black cover over me, shrouding my bright red dress in darkness so we can sprint across to the bushes unnoticed. I take his outstretched hand and let him pull me across as fast as my legs will allow.

Once inside the bushes that border the perimeter, I spot Bodhi’s old wrangler bike. As always, it looks like it’s seen better days, but it’s kept him going for years, or so he tells me. I just hope it doesn’t decide to give up the ghost tonight, mid-getaway and surrounded by Oliver’s beefy guards. He chucks the spare helmet over and gestures for me to get on behind him.

I huff in panicked exasperation when my ridiculous red dress prevents me from lifting my leg over. Seeing as I can hardly breathe in the damn thing, I should have suspected this before I even tried. I make a frustrated growl of a noise before reaching up the split and tearing the lower half away, thus completely annihilating the priceless dress as a final up yours to my betrothed. Bodhi looks at the ragged bottom half and chuckles to himself.

“I think it looks even better!”

“Wait!” I gasp just when he’s kicked our getaway steed into life. He looks over to see what the problem is while I take my hand away from his waist, retrieve the engagement ring from my finger, and throw it across the lawn. “Ok, go, go, go!”

Seconds later, I’m clinging onto him for dear life as he speeds along the fenced perimeter and out a back entrance where a couple of waiters are having a smoke before all the craziness begins. They dart to their feet in shocked surprise when we rev out the gate and onto the dusty road. Freedom hits me with a rush, though I pray we don’t come off, thinking of the life now growing inside of my belly. As we fly down the road, it suddenly dawns on me that I now have this whole new responsibility to worry about.

Chapter 5

Southampton, England, 1972

Rosalie

After a week of living at the Taylor’s Bed and Breakfast, I’ve happily fallen into helping Sadie with her daily chores. These include changing beds, cleaning the bathroom, preparing afternoon tea, and having a chat with one of their long-term guests, Mrs Topple. She’s about eighty-five and loves talking about how she met her now-deceased husband, which she sells as a true love story. She calls me Mary, but I’ve given up trying to correct her. Besides, I’m not really worried about being called anything by this lovely old woman. Sadie, on the other hand, doesn’t forgive her frailty of mind so easily, and is forever poking fun at the old girl, enjoying a good giggle while Mrs Topple pretends to be insulted before smirking wickedly alongside her. I sometimes gasp over how blunt she is with one of her most treasured house guests, but it’s always in an affectionate, ‘If anyone tried to hurt you, I’d kill them’, sort of way.

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