Page 30 of Save You

When Tom finally returns, he perches himself on the arm of the chair I’m sitting on, then puts his arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. My mother scoffs with a laugh at his open affection toward me, though it earns her nothing but a deeper cut to her neck from Sadie.

“Wait until Carl hears about this, Rosalie,” she tuts, “shacking up with another man. Really!”

“Did you ever love me, Mother? Because it sounds like you’re taking great pleasure in betraying me to the man who has openly abused me since I was sixteen years old!”

“Oh, please,” she sneers, “it is the Mayfield way; what did you think it would be like? Hearts and flowers? You want for nothing, and you think it all comes for free?”

“Funny, because with Tom, it’s always hearts and flowers. I would rather wear a paper sack and live in a cardboard box than live in the horror which you call home. Tom, my real husband, doesn’t abuse me, doesn’t rape me, and doesn’t threaten our son!”

Hot, angry tears release over my cheeks, and I begin to let my fury overtake me, but Tom pulls me back and tries to calm me with gentle strokes of my hair.

“Ignore her, darlin,” he whispers, “she’s nothing to you anymore.”

We smile at one another until a sharp knock at the door causes everyone to jump out of their skin, even my mother, the Wicked Witch of the West. However, it is poor Tom I’m more concerned about when I watch the color drain from his cheeks. After a moment or two, he seems to psych himself up to finally stand, then go and let whoever it is in. He squeezes my hand tightly, taking whatever comfort he can from me, then exits the room without another word. The front door opens, and there is a muttering of words between men, before Tom re-enters the living room.

Behind him follows six other men, all intimidating to look at and with a shifty feel about them. They’re the type you wouldn’t want to meet down a dark alley, being that they’re openly scary looking. A stark contrast to the villains in Mayfield, who prefer to go about like wolves in sheep’s clothing. On closer inspection, three of them are of about Tom’s age, maybe in their later twenties, and built much like the bodyguards who accompanied my mother. Two of them are much older; they are most likely a similar age to my parents. However, the last one is around my age, or perhaps a year or two older. All of them are immaculately dressed in dark suits and ties. The older two stand out by wearing hats and long, woolen peacoats. One of the men looks eerily familiar, but it’s only when Tom stands next to him that I notice who it is that he looks like.

“Rose, Sadie, this is my father, Jacob Ryan,” he announces, almost looking guilty about the fact. Both of our mouths drop open in shock; we’re so in sync, it probably looks comical.

His father, almost a carbon copy, looks over at both of us before settling on me and my sleeping son.

“Good evening,” the man says politely with a thick accent, before glancing over at Sadie, then back to me again. He removes his hat as a mark of respect, and places it onto the back of my chair before leaning in to kiss me on both cheeks. His whole demeanor oozes charm and tradition, with all of his movements being soft and carefully thought out, which somehow makes him seem all the more intimidating.

“My son has chosen a beautiful woman, I see,” he says, causing me to blush over his compliment. “But, like most beautiful women, she has a few problems, aye?”

“Father,” Tom says with warning in his voice, before gesturing over to the woman with a knife still being held to her throat. “This is Rosalie’s mother.”

Jacob walks slowly toward her, with every step being slow and purposeful, so much so, she is now beginning to look a little ghostly. He bends down to take hold of my mother’s hand and kisses the back of it. It appears gentlemanly, but also strangely threatening at the same time. She withers under his frame, and I can’t help but enjoy watching how uncomfortable she is.

“Mrs Bennett?” he asks, to which she reluctantly nods to confirm. “I believe you have come to cause problems for my son and his family?”

“I’m afraid, Mr Ryan, your son has chosen a married woman. Rosalie and her child belong to another man, and I am here to deliver them back to him. Surely you understand?” she asks with fake bravery.

He seems to consider this for a moment with a deep frown theatrically settling onto his face, all the while looking between Tom, me, then back to my mother again.

“I think it is you who is mistaken, Mrs Bennett,” he says with a wide smile, show-casing predatory teeth that could rip you in two. “I’m sorry to say your daughter died shortly after she arrived in this country. I have seen the death certificate. Actually, it is I who commissioned it,” he continues, while grinning menacingly at her. “so, you see, this woman and her child are actually nothing to do with you, your daughter’s husband, or Mayfield.”

My mother’s eyes widen at the mention of ‘Mayfield’, as do mine.

“I know of your corrupt organization and its treatment of women.” He seems to answer what we’re both thinking with a tight smile that is not too far away from a snarl. “Not that I can talk of corruption, for it is in my line of work also. But we do not treat our women in such a way. Not even our whores are treated with the same disrespect with which you treat your own blood. The fact is, however, Mayfield has not yet gained enough momentum to infiltrate this country yet. Though it is not from want of trying by your son-in-law.”

His words remind me once again of Carl’s mentioning of British pubs and his meetings here. Perhaps he’s been trying to spread Mayfield overseas, though, thankfully hasn’t yet been successful in that feat.

“So, your options are…” he announces, standing tall and pulling out a gun from his inside pocket, which he then wipes over with his handkerchief like it were a pair of glasses. At its casual appearance before her, my mother’s eyes are suddenly wide with fear. “You can leave and tell your husband and son-in-law that, unfortunately, your daughter is no longer with us; take the death certificate as proof if you like. Or…”

He stops and motions to one of the beefier men they have brought with them. The man takes the silent order from Tom’s father, places a knuckle duster onto his fist before throwing a punch straight into the face of one of my mother’s bodyguards. Sadie and I gasp in shock when the same bodyguard screams out in agony, immediately throwing his hands over his nose and mouth which is now pouring with deep red swirls of blood. Tom steps in front to try and shield me from the gory scene, even though it’s a little too late.

“I see,” my mother replies once she’s managed to collect her thoughts.

With little choice, she stands up and holds her hand out for the fake death certificate. Her eyes narrow into evil little slits as she glares at Tom and me, before motioning for her bodyguards to follow. Before she can reach the door, however, Jacob stops her with a tut and a shake of his head.

“I cannot let you take two more witnesses with you,” he says, still with a low, calm, and collected voice, one that almost sounds bored. “They come with us.”

On his last word, he signals to the three men of Tom’s age, and they all move to grab hold of the two bodyguards, including the one still clutching hold of his face. They begin to wrestle them out of the house while my mother looks on in horror.

“My brother,” he signals to both the other older man and the younger boy, “will drive you to where you need to go. But know this, Mrs Bennett, if you choose to tell Mayfield about my son’s wife and child, I will come after you.” his expression immediately turns murderous, and he is now pointing the gun directly toward her face. “Not your husband, not your son-in-law, you! It will become my mission to come after you. Do you understand?”

For some reason, my mother looks at me with desperation in her eyes, but I give her nothing. She then nods once and makes a move for the door, looking once more into my eyes for something she’ll never get from me - feeling. Jacob nods to his brother who follows behind her.

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