Page 58 of Save Me
THAYER
“You guys have fun?”I take in Vogue and Harry in a lip lock that they break away from when they see me standing there in the doorway. Their expressions don’t betray much, but the flush on Vogue’s cheeks speaks volumes. I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.
“Yeah, we did,” Harry says, his voice hoarse with what I can only assume was a night well spent. There’s a possessive gleam in his eye that I’ve come to recognise and respect. It’s not jealousy; it’s acknowledgement—a silent confirmation of the bond we all share.
“Good,” I nod, stepping aside to let them in. “Glad to hear it.”
Vogue slips past me with a smile that holds secrets and promises alike. “We’re back now, and I need to shower after this day.”
I nod and then grab her hand, holding it up with a frown as I run my hand over the grazes. “Gun training?”
“Yeah. I’m shit, but I’ll get better.”
I chuckle as she grins and takes her hand back. “I’ve no doubt, baby girl.”
Harry steps inside, but not before clapping a hand on my shoulder—a gesture of camaraderie and something deeper. A reminder of the intricate web we’ve woven together.
“We need to talk after your shower about the party,” I call after her.
She just waves as she hits the top of the stairs and disappears.
“Are you sure you want to do this heist right in the middle of the party?” Harry asks with a frown up the stairs.
“Yeah, the party is going to be in the gallery, so it’s the perfect time. My parents already have a buyer set up, so it needs to happen quickly, and I don’t have time to make the necessary plans to do it from the outside.”
He nods, getting it completely, but needing to check, I know, because of Vogue’s involvement. He wouldn’t have questioned me otherwise. “Where’re the other guys?”
“Having a beer outside.”
“Aaron?”
I shrug. “Haven’t seen him.”
Harry’s gaze lingers on the top of the stairs for just a moment longer, a subtle tension in his jaw. He then shakes his head slightly, as if dismissing a thought, and follows me outside, where the cool night breeze invites us to join the others. The air is thick with the undercurrent of strategy that always accompanies our gatherings.
Callum and Quentin are engrossed in a hushed conversation, their heads close together, two sides of the same coin finally in alignment after years of separation. I can’t help but appreciate the twisted symmetry of it all.
We take our seats, and Harry cracks open a beer, sliding one to me across the table. It’s ice cold, droplets beading on the surface, and I take a long swig, enjoying the way it cuts through the dryness in my throat.
The conversation shifts effortlessly from business to banter. Quentin’s talking about some new weapon he’s acquired that’ll cleave a man’s head from his shoulders, while Callum’s more interested in discussing how we’ll handle any unexpected complications at the masquerade ball—always the tactician.
I lean back, listening to them bicker playfully about contingencies and escape routes. This is where we thrive—in complexity and danger.
Despite the laughter and the easy jokes, I feel the tension. It coils in my gut—a reminder that what we’re planning is no game. This heist, Vogue’s involvement, the power play by the Syndicate, the masquerade... it all melds into one massive, high-stakes gamble.
I glance at Harry’s profile, his eyes dark with thought, and I know he’s weighing risks, too. We’re all a bunch of fucking adrenaline junkies chasing the next thrill. But with Vogue in the mix now, everything feels riskier.
I look up as Aaron strides out confidently to join us, his face a blank mask. The dynamic shifts subtly; he’s the boss and Vogue’s dad. The latter being now the father of the girl we’ve all fallen in love with whether we are ready to admit that or not.
“Hope you guys saved some beer for me,” Aaron says casually, but his eyes scan the group, searching for something.
“Sure,” I murmur and hand him one.
He sits down in his tailored suit and gives us all a grim stare. “We need to talk about Vogue and what the four of you are doing with her.”
I blink and casually adjust my stance in my seat. We knew it was coming, but I think we all hoped it wouldn’t.
Harry is the first to respond, his voice level and confident. “She’s part of this now, Aaron. She’s as involved as any of us.” It’s respectful—always respectful—it’s mafia law, but everyone knows he dodged the question.
