Page 32 of Save Me

And if he thinks he’s getting away with it—he’s out of fucking luck.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “Let’s get out of here, baby,” he murmurs, his touch radiating through me.

It had to be a few hours that passed when I woke up. After my little breakdown, Argent drove us home, and I fell asleep in his arms.

Slowly, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and make my way to the kitchen. As I enter, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and I spot Argent and Demitri standing at the counter, sipping their cups.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Demitri greets me with a genuine smile, and I offer a small wave before turning to Argent. “Feeling better, baby?” he asks, planting a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “Yeah, um, are you going somewhere later?” I ask.

“I’m about to leave, yeah... why?” he replies, raising an eyebrow and setting his cup down. “Would you mind dropping me off at the doctor’s office? I think it’s time I go back to my sessions,” I explain. His face lights up at my words, and he caresses my cheek with his hand. “Of course.”

We arrive in front of the office, and just as I’m about to open the door, Argent stops me. “Do you want me to come in with you?” he asks, his eyes scanning my face.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you have your own business to attend to, right?” I assure him, giving a light peck on the lips before opening the car door. But before I can shut it, he interjects again, “I’ll pick you up when—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take a taxi and meet you at home,” I cut him off, flashing a quick smile before closing the door and heading towards the entrance. I need to find a way to see the doctor.

I don’t have an appointment, but I won’t leave until I get to see him.

Stepping into the frigid and eerily silent waiting room, I cautiously tread toward the front desk, my footsteps barely making a sound on the polished marble floor. The air hangs heavy with a scent of antiseptic and faint traces of perfumed hand sanitizer.

The receptionist’s head jerks up, and a cold smile twists her lips when she catches sight of me. Thinking quickly on my feet, I summon a well of emotion, forcing tears to well up in my eyes. Her expressioninstantly crumbles as concern replaces her initial hostility.

“Is everything okay, sweetie?” she asks sincerely, rising from her plush chair. I sniffle, aggressively wiping my eyes, and manage to blurt out, “I need to see Doctor Storm, right now.” Her tone softens as she replies, “I’m sorry, dear, but if you don’t have an appointment, he won’t be able to see you today.”

I feel a surge of frustration and desperation, and all pretense shatters. “I don’t give a shit! I need to see him right now!” My voice echoes through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present.

The once tranquil waiting room now buzzes with whispered conversations and curious glances.

Minutes of heated argument pass before Doctor Storm emerges from a nearby hallway, his face etched with a frown.

“What is all the fuss about?” he demands, crossing his arms as his gaze fixates on me. The receptionist quickly interjects, “I’m so sorry, doctor, this woman is demanding to see you without an appointment.”

His expression softens, and he dismisses her concerns with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine. Miss Macklamor,please follow me to my office.” He turns and strides down the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet.

Taking a deep breath, I trail behind him, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

Entering his office, he closes the door behind me, sealing us in a cocoon of privacy. The room is bathed in the warm glow of soft, muted lighting, casting long shadows on the mahogany furniture.

A faint scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air. He chuckles softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through the room.

“That was quite a performance,” he remarks, amusement dancing in his eyes as he settles into his leather chair behind the imposing dark wood desk. His gaze remains fixed on me, unwavering. I wipe away the fake tears from my cheeks, stepping closer to him, my voice laced with determination.

“Yeah, well, I had to see you one way or another.”

“I know you're not here for an actual session—so what is it you want, Starlet?”

“I know that you know where Zavier is hiding,” I say, my words causing his face to fall. I can see the tensionin his jaw as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“And how exactly do you know that?” he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. The sound of his voice fills the room, echoing off the walls. I stand my ground, crossing my arms over my chest, my gaze fixed firmly on him.

“That’s not your concern. What I want to know is where he is—and you’re going to tell me,” I state firmly. He rises from his seat, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor.

He walks around the desk, his footsteps echoing with each step until he comes to a halt in front of me. A smirk plays on his lips as he stares down at me, his eyes filled with defiance.

“And if I don’t?” he challenges, his voice dripping with arrogance. I narrow my eyes, scoffing at his audacity.

“Then I’ll—”

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