Page 90 of Save Me

“You got the last initial wrong though,” I say. “You know my last name doesn’t start with a T…”

“Did I, though? Cause I know a way we could change that for you,” he says casually, and my eyes dart back to his.

“Bold of you to tattoo my initials using your last name, Mr. Turner,” I say as I look back at the tattoo, not mad with how my initials look on his chest, but unwilling to admit just how moved I am, despite the surge of panic at making such a profound, permanent change so soon.

“Don’t worry, love, plenty of time for all of that… I won’t rush you into anything you don’t want,” he reassures me before reaching over to pull something out of the nightside table drawer. “Before you panic,” he says, closing the drawer, “it’s not a ring. So don’t go running for the hills just yet.” He smiles as he hands me a small box. Its black velvet exterior is soft in my hands. I glance at him before opening it slowly, and my breath catches as I look at the heart-shaped locket within, the gold shimmering in the light.

I touch it delicately, turning the locket over in my fingers, and my eyes well as I see the engraving etched on the backall in.

“I wanted you to have a heart from me that will last forever, since your wrist will heal and scars can fade,” he explains, and I swear I see a slight redness creep onto his cheeks.

“Are you blushing, Mr. Turner?” I ask softly, as my heart beats quickly in my chest. I’ve never had someone go to so much effort to do something so sentimental for me, not for my birthday or Christmas, let alone for no reason at all.

“I wanted you to remember that you’ll always have my heart, no matter what. And no matter where life brings us, no matter what you’re faced with, I’m all in, love. Always.”

I whisper the words back to him, and for some reason they feel like a vow on my lips, and I brush my finger over the engraving.All in.

CHAPTER 37

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Isit onthe couch, toying with the locket that rests just below my collarbone, watching as both Jax and Ryan pace back and forth in opposite directions, their phones to their ears as they talk to their contacts, people who are a part of their business network.

They’ve been on and off the phone for an hour now, eager to see whether all the pieces of their plan fell into place.

My mind drifts as I wait for news, wait to figure out if our plan has actually worked. I play with the locket, opening and closing it, trying to figure out what to put in it.

I’m startled from my thoughts as Ryan takes the phone away from his ear and pockets it with a wide smile on his face. “We got Tanner,” he says, and a mix of emotions swirl in my chest.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now, we get even.” The gleam in his eyes is nothing short of malicious and for a heartbeat, one singular heartbeat, I feel sorry for what Tanner is about to endure.

“What will you do to him?”

“Whatever Jax, and you, think should be done to him,” he responds.

I take a moment, pondering his words.What should be done to Tanner?

I think about what he did to me, opening the door to the vault I keep locked deep, deep, within me. I think about the pain as the door crashed into my nose, and the sickening crush the force caused. I think about his arm around me, the feel of his handstearing at my skin, the pressure of his weight on my chest, and the sinking feeling as something within me died in the murky waters of his assault.

“I think he should die,” I say, not unkindly. Not emotionally. But blandly, factually, and I can’t help but imagine Tanner’s face, lifeless in front of me. I can’t help but feel empowered by the words as they leave my lips, voicing exactly what I want without any shame or hesitation.

A violent smile crosses Ryan’s face as his gaze moves to Jax, who just ended his own phone call, and is giving me a contemplative look.

“You still set on that?” he asks, his tone matching my own, as if we are discussing the weather, and not someone’s life.

“I think he should die. I think he deserves to die after what he did to me.”

“You won’t find any disagreement from us, love,” he says in response, walking towards me and sitting down on the couch beside me.

I shift my body, draping my legs over his lap, and he starts massaging my feet. He doesn’t stop, not even as his phone screen lights up and he glances at it quickly, before staring absentmindedly at the painting on the wall, one I made, lost in his own thoughts.

“I can almost hear you thinking,” Ryan says from across the room as he sinks into an empty armchair.

“We have Rhett,” he says simply.

I sit up quickly, my heart hammering in my chest.

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