Page 37 of Save Me
My mind is racing, trying to piece together fragments of conversations, half-remembered details that might’ve hinted at a plan so ludicrously out of character for the woman who raised me.
“But why? Why would she—“ I can’t finish the question, choking on a mixture of betrayal and fear.
“Because she was a low-class whore who didn’t give a flying fuck about you,” Aaron hisses, his anger getting the better of him. “Why else?”
“Please,” I say, shaking my head as his words hit a spot deep inside me that makes it hurt to breathe. “She loves me.”
“She let you grow up in poverty. I should’ve done more. I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. Appearances were deceiving from the outside. She kept up a good front of having money to provide for you but behind closed doors you were starving.”
“It makes no sense! If she had that money, why did she let us freeze in winter and go hungry? Why wouldn’t she just use it, if not for me, for herself?”
“Clearly, she wanted every last penny for her dream holiday,” he says bitterly.
“This is fucked up,” I spit out, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “You’re telling me she just abandoned me? And for what? Sun and sand over her own daughter?”
Aaron doesn’t flinch. “The evidence is there, Vogue.”
I snatch the folder, flinging it open to scatter its contents across his desk. Photos, bank statements, a one-way plane ticket—every piece a nail in the coffin of the life I thought I knew.
The guys close in around me to offer comfort, but nothing can stop this freefall into an abyss. Each document I scan is another cut, another slice to the gut. They show a trail of money that’s damningly clear, and if that wasn’t proof enough, a photo taken of her, laughing on a white sandy beach with a pink cocktail in her hand. Photoshopped? Maybe, but my head tells me Aaron isn’t fabricating this story, even if my heart needs to believe he is.
“Mum wouldn’t,” I murmur, half to myself. But there it is in black and white—the betrayal no daughter should ever have to see.
My mind is stuck on a loop: Mum’s smile, her laugh, how she held me tight whenever life kicked us down. All a fucking lie?
“You didn’t want my life to be ‘extravagant’, so she took that as permission to make me suffer in the worst way possible,” I seethe, fixing Aaron with a glare that could scorch paint off walls. Isoldmyself to creepy, sleazy guys to make enough money to pay rent and buy food when all the time she was hoarding cash like a fucking cunt so she could make a great escape to the Caribbean.
“You can blame me,” Aaron says calmly. “I should’ve stepped up, but my involvement was risky for you, her and me. I never thought she would stoop so low… But this ismyfault. I accept full responsibility?—”
“And so you fucking should,” Callum growls. “This is beyond fucked up!”
Aaron shoots him a glare that could wither a houseplant, but Callum doesn’t falter. Not even for a second.
“You screwed up by letting this happen.”
“I know.”
“That’s not good enough! You owe her.”
“I know.”
“No! I don’t want anything from you,” I choke out.
I shove the damning evidence back into the folder, my hands trembling with a fury that’s all-consuming. “I don’t want your fucking money, your guilt, none of it!” I’m screaming now, voice cracking under the strain. “You can’t buy forgiveness, can’t erase what she did to me.”
Aaron nods, an almost imperceptible lift of his chin. “What do you want then?”
I don’t know. Revenge? Justice? My mum back, telling me there’s been some horrific mistake? But this isn’t a world where mistakes are forgiven easily. This is the world they live in—the world I’m slowly being dragged into. A world where blood ties strangle and promises shatter.
“I want… I just...” I trail off, the words lodged in my throat like a shard of glass.
Silence stretches among us, thick and suffocating, until Thayer steps forward, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. His touch is a lifeline as I try to navigate through this storm of betrayal.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” Quen adds with quiet intensity. “This is bullshit. She needs space.”
Harry’s hand finds mine and gives it a reassuring squeeze, and I’m suddenly grateful for these guys. They’re not just part of this messed up world; they’re my anchors in it.
