Page 58 of Save You

“I could smell you, like honey and freshly cut grass on a warm summer’s day,” he coos before we both laugh out loud, and he finally opens his eyes to look up at me. However, as soon as his eyes fall upon Rosie, his expression turns from jovial to shocked.

“Too far, dude, bringing offspring with you! I give in, you win!”

He laughs again and holds up his hands defensively, just before he jumps up and slaps my back in a friendly gesture. I would hug him, but I do have precious cargo in my arms, so have to make do. I’m secretly glad he’s not angry with me over Beth.

He eventually stands back to take a peek at Rosie’s little face, which is gearing itself up to explode in a fit of fury over not being fed immediately after waking up.

“You mind holding Rosie? I gotta get a bottle ready before she starts to rage!”

“Really?” he gasps in genuine surprise over my asking him to have her. I nod, knowing that I can trust this guy with my life, and practically shove her onto his naked chest. She looks even smaller against his massive frame, and the way he tries to juggle her tiny limbs is almost enough to have me laughing again.

After enjoying a few moments of the spectacle before me, I quickly pour her milk into a bottle and hand it to Bodhi to feed her. He grins happily with emotion as she begins suckling at the teat with desperation. We say nothing because I can tell he’s taking this all in with awe, enjoying watching the little human take from him what he’s offering. After a while, his smile fades a little, and he starts to study her face, no doubt recognizing the same features that he would have seen in Beth.

“So…” he breathes out heavily, almost with relief, when I take her from his arms and rub her back to release the excess air from her greedy suckling.

“So…” I repeat, not quite knowing what to say, nor knowing where to start.

“Your sister’s been up here, making arrangements for Beth’s memorial,” he says as he faces the water again. “I can’t even believe I’m saying those words. It’s not right Xander, it’s not right!” I can only nod at him, unable to comment on it because he’s not saying anything I haven’t thought about myself. “You know I’m gonna be here for you. I mean, it goes without saying. Anything you or this little one wants or needs, I’m there.”

“Thanks, man,” I reply and pat him on the shoulder, suddenly feeling uncomfortable over the moment. “I’m going after them, you know that don’t you?”

“I figured you would be,” he says with a heavy sigh, “and my offer still stands. Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it!”

Chapter 23

Beth

When I was little, I found a stash of wedding magazines that my cousin had kept from when she was going to get married. I spent hours looking at all the dresses, the flowers, the opulence of the reception rooms, and the lavish cakes. I must have planned my own wedding about a dozen times that day and loved every minute of it.

My cousin never did get married. Instead, she came home from work to find her fiancé in bed with her best friend, which earnt him a swift punch to the nose. My uncle, her father, was called around to try and calm her down. By which point, her now ex-fiancé was shouting out all manner of threats, including calling the police. My uncle ended up taking the flack for my cousin’s assault, while she revealed she was seven weeks pregnant. She had the baby herself and moved on with her life, but without her fiancé, who turned out to have a broken nose.

Now, being only seven at the time, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why my cousin no longer wanted to have her wedding. I thought she was bat-shit crazy for not wanting to get dressed up in her beautiful dress, to have her day, and live happily ever after with her husband.

But I get it now.

It’s a little over a week until my wedding to Oliver, and I don’t want any of it, not the dress, not the flowers, not the cake, and certainly not the fancy reception room. I am sure I won’t know anyone other than my security guard. I’ve chosen the most plain and simple dress I could find. Oliver has chosen the rest.

We’re now sitting in the living room, waiting for Oliver’s cousins to come over for their bridesmaid’s fitting. We haven’t spoken much since he assaulted me with his leather belt. In fact, this is probably the first time we’ve spent more than five minutes alone in each other’s company, and I’m still on edge. The only thing keeping me sane at the moment, is knowing that the bridesmaids are children and are due to turn up at any minute. Hopefully, this will be enough for Oliver to keep his temper in check.

Pru informed me about his cousin and her two children at breakfast this morning. In fact, Pru is beginning to fill me in on a lot of things I didn’t know about, including who the top-ranking members of Mayfield are and who, in particular, to be careful of. However, Oliver and my grandfather still seem to take the number one hotspot for being the most powerful and most ruthless, so lucky me!

Oliver’s cousin, Claire Lawrence, has two daughters called Sophie and Maisie, who are nine and three respectively. Claire is a typical Mayfield upper-crust sort who has a constant smell under her nose, as well as a special bond with Oliver. Pru had warned me to be on my guard around her and to keep quiet when she openly insults me, for it is almost guaranteed that she will.

“How is your back, Beth?” Oliver asks, breaking the silence as well as my troubling thoughts.

“Sore,” I answer without further comment.

I keep my eyes trained on my clasped hands inside of my lap, even when I hear him clear his throat and begins to over to me. He soon bends to crouch in front of me, where he takes hold of both of my hands, and forces me to look at him. To be honest, I am quickly losing any fight I have left inside of me. But then, that was his plan all along. He brings one of my hands up to his mouth to kiss before raising the other one to do the same, then gently clasps my chin between his finger and thumb. His lips press against mine, but he sighs when I don’t reciprocate.

“Beth,” he says softly, “perhaps I was a little hard on you. You know I love you, but I need you to know that this is the way things are. I need a wife who knows her place and who supports and loves me fully. However,” he pauses his spiel of Mayfield gibberish to pull me up to standing with him, “I want you to know that once we’re married, I will not stray from you. It will be only you who warms my bed.”

“Ok,” I reply without emotion. Meanwhile, I inwardly scoff over his attempts to make me feel anything more than derision toward him. “Oliver, what Felicity said, implying we could swap partners, you would never expect that of me, would you?”

Besides the beating he gave me, which has had me wincing with every movement over the last couple of days, her sick suggestion has been worrying me to the point of not being able to sleep. I’m sure I’ve only seen the surface of Mayfield’s weird and depraved rules and rituals, so husbands swapping wives doesn’t seem at all farfetched.

“Never,” he says with venom in his voice, “no one will touch you, only me. You are mine and only mine!” he says this both as a reassurance and a threat, as if his words are meant to relieve and scare me all at the same time.

“Mr Lawrence,” Pru announces from the double doors, her voice still timid after what she saw the other day, “your cousin has arrived with her children. Shall I show them in?”

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