Page 3 of Save You

“And when Boone died…” Oliver cuts in, obviously guessing as to what she is alluding to.

“Fox was eventually over-ruled, leaving Steele to take over. Lawrence remained loyal to him and became his right-hand man. Soon after, Steele brought in laws and traditions that are still practiced today, especially by the elite circles. Unfortunately, that includes suppressing its women and overlooking certain crimes if the perpetrator is powerful enough. A lot of members today still want Mayfield to be what it was originally intended for, others are content to leave it as it is, including Carl Steele. I shouldn’t say this, but it tends to favor the powerful few, like Steele, instead of the whole community.”

“I thought as much, Pru,” he mutters toward the ground while shuffling his hands around uncomfortably. “The way Steele talks to me pretty much backs up your story. Between you and me, I am hoping to climb high, Pru. I want to climb to a point where I can make changes, good changes!”

“You’re a good boy, Oliver,” she says, smiling as she places a comforting hand on top of his, “but you must know how dangerous that will be?”

“Yes, I do, which is why I am willing to wait before I let my intended know of my affections toward her. Does your aunt still work for the Steeles?”

“She does,” Pru replies, removing her hand and looking at the ground, as if feeling ashamed of such a thing. “Why do you ask?”

“Carl mentioned something about Rosalie Bennett still being alive. Could that be true, or is he beginning to go senile? If he is, I could begin to work my way in sooner. I know that would be taking advantage, and I do not relish the idea of it, but you must agree the man needs stopping.”

“It is my understanding that Rosalie is still alive, yes,” she almost whispers, knowing that this is highly sensitive information that could land both her and her aunt in serious trouble. “And so is Carl’s son, Malcolm. Mr Steele has been searching for the past five years, ever since Rosalie’s mother died. He recently…”

Pru pauses and shakes her head, knowing that she is saying far too much. After all, she has her own family’s safety to think about. Oliver grips hold of her hands a little more tightly, giving her the courage to go on.

“Please, Pru, what were you going to say?” he practically begs her, and not with the usual confident voice he had used in the hall just now. His voice now sounds fearful and urgent. “The sooner I can bring Carl down, the sooner I can make changes and be with my love.”

“He recently found out he has grandchildren through his missing son, Malcolm,” she finally relents, “a boy, and a girl. She is only eight and her name is Beth Taylor. The boy’s details are unclear; he only knows he is much younger than her.”

“How did he find this out, Pru?” Oliver frowns at her.

“Because…because…he has Rosalie’s husband,” Pru replies with trepidation, “they took him and are holding him at one of Carl’s facilities. Other than giving them the sexes of the two children, something they already knew, he refuses to give them anything. I hate to think about what he is being put through in there.”

“Right, wow, thank you, Pru. You’ve been really helpful. You always were my favorite nanny and I hope you remember me when you decide to work again.”

He smiles, then stands to offer his arm so they can return to the party.

The following morning, Oliver and his father, Samuel, meet together in the home office. They sit on opposite sides of the grand, mahogany table. Samuel is nursing a hangover and cursing himself for drinking too much, while Oliver remains level-headed, feeling as fresh as a daisy. He rarely drinks for he always has his eye on the prize and knows all too well what drink can do to a man. He’s seen it often enough with his father.

“So,” Samuel says first, in a leading sort of way, “what did you find out, son?”

“Not much more than we already know, however…” Oliver smiles, letting his father wait impatiently for a few moments before breaking the news, “I have a name.”

“Really?!” Samuel sits up suddenly, feeling excited, even though his head is raging with dehydration and exhaustion from his nightly activities.

“Her name is Beth…Beth Taylor!” Oliver grins widely. “She is currently eight years old, and Carl is desperate to find her.”

“Perfect! A female to produce an heir that would tie all three founding members together! He’ll be begging for you to take the helm!” Samuel beams and gets up to pour them both a glass of whiskey from his best bottle. When he offers it to Oliver, his son sneers at it, waving it away while he considers how weak his father is for relying on such a vice.

“With a name as common as Taylor, it’s still going to take some time to find her.” Oliver huffs as he twists his grandfather’s signet ring around his little finger, looking deep in thought for a moment or two. “But then, she is only eight. Hardly ready for marriage.”

“Exactly!” Samuel replies with a shrug of his shoulders. “We’ll track them down by the time she is ripe. No one else has our intel or our background in computers to attack such a task with the same speed. No one…except Jonah. Another descendent, Oliver! You need to cut him loose and change him from being your second!”

“Why would I do such a thing? I trust him more than I do you!” Oliver smiles wickedly. “Besides, Jonah isn’t interested, and Steele pretty much thinks he’s scum for being a Fox. And the feeling is more than mutual. No, I think it best to keep Jonah on side for the time being. We don’t want to rock the boat and encourage him to go against me.”

“You’re a smart boy, Oliver,” Samuel says before taking a large gulp of his drink.

“Of course, I take after Mother.” Oliver shrugs, looking completely serious over the statement. “And I was raised by Pru. Well, up until she married that sniveling husband of hers. I blame you for that, Father.”

“Ah, yes, I couldn’t help myself,” Samuel says on a long sigh, “I’m only sorry she gave into Edward’s proposals before I could get my hands on her. What are we going to do about Pru? She has committed a punishable offense, many in fact.”

“Nothing!” Oliver snarls at him. “That was the deal! I agreed to tie myself to an eight-year-old child who I’ve never set eyes upon, but Pru remains protected!”

“Ok, ok, son!” Samuel puts his hands up defensively before drinking again. “And as for Beth, I wouldn’t worry about what she looks like, or rather what she will look like.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Oliver sighs, for he’s already tired of his father’s voice.

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