Page 53 of Save Us

Shouting from outside distracts me from my nervous thoughts, while the two officers look at the door with clear confusion written all over their faces. The one that looks more friendly gets up to go and open the door. However, before he can even reach it, the whole thing bursts open with such force, the officer leaps back with flailing limbs, all of a fluster. That’s when the devil himself, Carl Steele, waltzes in with an angry scowl all over his purple complexion.

He stomps straight over to my side, all the while keeping his furious expression on the two men who were just sitting across from me. They look back at him for a moment or two, studying his face intensely before they eventually realize who he is.

“I will be taking my granddaughter home with me immediately,” he snaps at them. “If you have any further questions, you can direct them to me, but until then, you will keep your distance. Come along, Beth!”

Sighing heavily, I begin to move my chair back from the table. I suddenly feel exhausted from everything that has happened. When another body bursts through the door, I almost groan out loud, but when I see who it is, I gulp back the air in front of me and simply stare at his intimidating expression. Jonah Fox looks every bit the alpha male that Oliver did, and it is more than obvious that there is no love lost between him and my grandfather.

“Fox, what the hell are you doing here?!” Carl practically spits at him.

Jonah, who looks beyond calm and collected, simply smiles, and puts up his palms in a defensive gesture in the direction of the two detectives. They look utterly perplexed as they get to their feet to address the newest intruder to their interview. It’s comical because they seem to look to me, of all people, for some sort of explanation before sitting back down again. In fact, the only people who remain standing are Jonah and Carl, the latter of which looking like he wants to gut the former.

“Take a seat, Mr Steele,” Fox orders coolly, just as someone brings in two more chairs.

“I’ll do no such thing!” Carl sneers. “I have important matters to deal with, like who is going to become Mayfield’s new president.”

Jonah ignores him and sits down at the opposite end of the table, alongside the detectives. Only then does he acknowledge my grandfather’s words by offering him a smug smile.

“Not necessary,” he says with glee, “you’re looking at him.”

“Don’t be absurd, Fox!” Carl almost laughs. “You? You’re nothing!”

“Oh, contraire! Either your dream boy forgot, or he simply didn’t have anyone else, but I am still his second. See for yourself.”

None of this is quite making any sense to me so I choose to remain where I am, saying nothing while continuing to listen to the men having their battle in front of me. Jonah reaches into his jacket pocket and retrieves some papers, which he then pushes over the tabletop toward Carl. Carl reluctantly picks them up and begins to read them with his skin slowly turning more and more pale as time passes.

“Th-this is…” he stutters but can’t seem to form the right words. I can’t help enjoying the opportunity to watch him squirm over whatever it is. I only wish my grandmother was here to witness it too.

“Everything he owned, including his title, now belongs to me,” Jonah positively beams with a smug smirk still on his face. He then turns to face me with an unreadable, but not at all comforting, expression. “Including his wife, now widow.”

My amusement over my grandfather’s discomfort drops faster than a lead weight. My stomach turns with his words replaying inside of my head, desperately trying to make sense of them. Alas, whatever I come up with, the outcome is always the same; I’m still someone’s possession.

“You will not have my granddaughter, Fox!” Steele growls. “She belongs to me; I’m her blood!”

“Beth, come to me, sweetheart,” Fox says with a deadly serious expression. One that tells me he will not tolerate anyone saying no to him, least of all me. After years of this sort of treatment from Mayfield men, I do as he tells me by beginning to get up to step toward him. Just before I reach him at the edge of the table, where he’s now waiting for me, Carl places his icy hand over my arm to restrain me.

“Don’t test me, Steele!” Jonah says through angry, clenched teeth, making the man whose hand is clasped around me look like a puppy dog by comparison. Before anyone can respond, two burly security guards walk in and look over at where Carl has hold of my arm. It’s enough to have him release his grip, though not without a vicious scowl plastered on his face.

Jonah doesn’t flinch, just continues to stand before me while gesturing me to go to him. I thought I might have been free, and he had seemed to want to help me, yet here he is claiming me like an object, just as Oliver had done. By the look on his face, he must be able to see I’ve now released a few tears over the realization that I won’t ever be free of Mayfield. Not until my own death.

When I get near enough to touch him, he takes hold of both my hands and pulls me in even closer. His head moves in even further so that his lips are so close to mine, it looks like he’s going to kiss me. Instead, however, they move over to my ear.

“Go to them,” he whispers.

Thoroughly confused, and with my eyes now wide open in shock, I step back and look at him for further explanation. My expression silently asking if I just heard him right. He nods, just once.

“Go and claim your real family, Beth. Fenton has been waiting five long years for you.”

“Does he know?” I ask through more tears, and with my voice completely breaking.

“No,” he smiles, “I think you’ve earned the right to let him know yourself. You’ve been robbed of so much, Beth, I couldn’t bring myself to rob you of that too.”

Before I can stop myself, I release a painful whimper and throw my arms around his shoulders. He hugs me back a little rigidly, as though human affection is a foreign concept to him. Eventually, I feel his hands turning my whole body around so he can push me gently toward the door.

“Beth!” Carl shouts before I can leave, forcing both Jonah and me to look at him. “I’m your grandfather!”

I wipe my eyes with determined strokes of my arms against them, then look at Jonah. He smiles encouragingly before I finally turn back to face the man responsible for my family’s nightmare.

“My grandfather is Thomas Malcolm Taylor,” I reply confidently, “you are nothing to me!”

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