Nothing Left to Lose (13 page)

“And if the
situation were reversed, you’d want Jack to be like this, would
you? Unhappy and alone?” my mother asked quietly.

“Of course
not!” I shot back angrily. I’d never want him to have to go through
this, thankfully he didn’t have to.

“Well then,
maybe you should think about what Jack would want,” she
suggested.

“I think about
what Jack would want every minute of every day, Mom,” I said
quietly.

“Oh, baby, I
didn’t mean it that way!” she gasped, looking upset. She jumped up
from her chair and came forward to hug me; I shrank back
unconsciously, not wanting to build bridges with her. I bumped into
Ashton who was standing just behind me. He placed his hands on my
waist, steadying me.

My mom’s face
dropped when I moved away, and the guilt washed through me because
all I ever did was hurt them. In trying to make myself less
vulnerable by shutting people out, I knew I was hurting them but I
just couldn’t help it.

I groaned and
shook my head. “Look, let’s just leave it at that,” I said quietly.
One of Ashton’s hands was still placed on my waist, so I focussed
on the heat of his skin that was emanating through the fabric of my
shirt rather than my mom’s sad expression. “I’ll see you at
dinner.” I forced a fake smile before I turned and motioned for
Ashton to leave.

Ashton nodded
at my parents respectfully as we walked out of the room. “You
okay?” he asked as we rounded the corner.

“Yeah, I’m just
peachy,” I lied, shooting him a ‘shut up’ face.

He smiled
sarcastically. “Of course you are.”

“Ashton, I
don’t want to talk about this, please can we leave it? I don’t want
any more lectures,” I muttered.

“Okay, but if
you need to talk to anyone about anything, then you can talk to me,
I want you to know that,” he said softly. I looked up at him,
seeing that he was watching me intently, his sincerity shining from
his eyes. I smiled gratefully, knowing that I wouldn’t put that
burden on someone else again. I’d already told him more than I’d
told anyone else. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. “This is the
part where you say the same to me,” he prompted, nudging my ribs
with his elbow.

I chuckled.
“Right, sorry. Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’ll
be here for you too,” I replied, shaking my head amused. His hand
took mine casually as we walked down the hallway. I didn’t actually
even think about holding his hand now, it just felt natural, which
was weird, but at least it would make it easier for us next week
with me being able to be so casual with him.

He raised one
eyebrow. “Well actually there is something I would like to talk to
you about.”

Well, shit,
that backfired!
I swallowed my groan. “Well then I’m all ears,
Pretty Boy,” I said, smiling uncomfortably.

He cocked his
head to the side, regarding me quizzically as we walked. “Well, I
was wondering, why is it that you let me touch you and no one
else?”

“You want the
honest answer?” I asked just as we reached the front door.

“Of course,” he
said simply. He looked like he was trying to pull the answers
straight from my eyes where he was watching me so intently.

“I honestly
don’t know,” I shrugged. That was the truth, I didn’t know what it
was, but there was just something about him that made me want to
trust him. I would trust this guy with my life yet I had known him
for less than three days. It confused me, but it was true.

His frown grew
more pronounced. “I watched you shy away from your own mother
because you don’t like to get close to people, yet you let me sleep
in your bed and lie all over you. I don’t get it. Don’t get me
wrong, I’m taking it as a compliment, even if it’s not meant as
one.”

I sighed and
chewed on my lip. “Take it however you want. I’m fed up with trying
to explain the way my brain works sometimes.” I smiled sadly,
digging in my pocket for my car keys as we approached the garage.
When the automatic door rolled up, I led him to my ‘other’ car.

His eyes
widened as his mouth popped open in wonder and awe. I smiled.
Yep, typical boy reaction to my car!
“Oh, nice!” he purred,
touching the hood of my maroon Aston Martin Vanquish
appreciatively. As I held up the keys, he flinched, and I chuckled
wickedly. “What? Why are you laughing? You think I’m scared to
admit that your driving frightens the crap out of me?” he asked,
laughing.

“You’d rather
drive, Pretty Boy?” I teased, smirking at him.

“Definitely.”
He held out his hands for the keys, but he looked like he wasn’t
actually expecting me to give them to him.

I sighed
dramatically and threw him the keys. “Fine, but you take care of my
baby.”

He looked
shocked for a few seconds then smiled sexily. “Don’t worry, Anna,
I’ll take care of you and your baby,” he stated, patting the roof
of my car gently. I laughed and got in the passenger’s side,
watching him as he slid in behind the wheel with an awed expression
etched on his face. “If you have this, then why did we take a Jeep
out yesterday?” he asked, running his hands around the wheel
lovingly.

I shrugged. “I
don’t like to drive this car.”

“So why are we
taking it?” he asked, frowning and looking confused.

“I thought
you’d like to drive it. You look like a pretty car type of pretty
boy,” I replied, smirking and winking at him. He looked at me
strangely, just like he did when I gave him the photo frame last
night. “What is that look?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“What look?” he
questioned, still doing it.

“That look on
your face right now. What are you thinking? You had that same face
last night when I gave you that photo frame,” I said, biting my lip
wishing I hadn’t asked.

He turned,
looking out of the windshield as he started the car. “I was just
thinking that you’re extremely thoughtful and that no one has ever
really thought of me like that, that’s all. I’m not used to getting
gifts or having people think of me. It’s weird; I don’t quite know
how to deal with it.”

I swallowed the
lump that formed in my throat. “Because you grew up in foster
homes?”

He nodded
stiffly. “Yeah, I never really had a family or anything from the
age of ten, so I never got presents and stuff. I just got used to
it, I guess,” he explained, pulling out of the driveway.

“When’s your
birthday?” I asked curiously, after a couple of minutes of
uncomfortable silence.

“November
fifteenth.”

“How old are
you?” I asked, trying to commit the date to memory so I could get
him a present.

“I’m
twenty-one,” he answered, smiling. He was obviously enjoying
driving my car.

“You can put
your foot down, I don’t mind a bit of speed,” I suggested, looking
at the speedometer to see that he was just one under the speed
limit.

“Yeah? And what
if I get you killed?” he teased, grinning at me.

I shrugged and
spoke before I could stop myself. “Then you’d be doing me a
favour.” He slammed on the breaks and pulled the car to a stop,
looking at me shocked and actually a little horrified. “What?” I
asked, looking around for some animal or something that we hit.

“Please don’t
ever think that again, Anna. That’s not nice to hear,” he said
sadly. “You actually want to die?” he inquired, his face
serious.

“Everyday,” I
confirmed, not looking away from his gaze.

He gulped.
“Why?”

“Why not? What
have I got to live for? A whole life on my own? Waking up every day
with the knowledge that I got one of the nicest people in the world
killed? Knowing that I’ll never have that again, never feel loved,
never feel whole, or clean, or pure? Why would I want to live?” I
asked seriously.

He looked so
sad, his eyes glazed over. “You don’t have to be on your own. You
might meet someone, fall in love again. As for feeling clean or
pure, that may not ever change if you don’t let it. That’s a state
of mind; you need to let it go because there’s nothing else you can
do about it. And you didn’t get Jack killed, he was murdered by a
sick asshole. It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly, reaching for
my hand and squeezing gently.

I sighed
deeply. “Ashton, I’ve heard all of that in every single one of my
therapy sessions, and I’ll tell you the same thing that I tell
them. I don’t care what anyone else says, I
know
it was my
fault, so let’s just drop it and change the subject,” I suggested,
tugging my hand from his and turning on the radio.

He sighed and
gripped the wheel tightly. “Anna, you shouldn’t-”

“You gonna
drive, or shall we just go back to the house?” I interjected,
putting my feet up on the dashboard.

“Anna, it
wasn’t your fault,” he whispered, looking at me pleadingly.

“I know it
wasn’t,” I lied easily. This was the other tactic I used on my
therapist occasionally.

“You don’t
believe that,” he stated, gripping my chin between his thumb and
forefinger, turning my face so I had to look at him.

Frustration
built up inside me. I didn’t want to be having this conversation,
not with him, not with anyone. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Ashton! You
don’t want the truth, you don’t want the lie! What the hell do you
want me to say? What will make you drive us to the fucking mall?” I
ranted, throwing my hands up dramatically.

He looked at me
a little shocked before he laughed at my outburst. I felt the smile
twitch the corner of my mouth and then I laughed too before he
composed himself. “Right then, Miss Spencer, you want to see good
driving?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at me. I nodded, a little
unsure if that was the right answer, and his eyes sparkled with
excitement as he gunned the engine loudly. He pulled away with the
tyres squealing. We sped down the winding road so fast that
everything was just a blur. He was a kick-ass driver and my heart
was beating so fast, I thought I would die of a heart attack. As we
approached the populated area he slowed right down to normal, legal
speed, glancing over at me and grinning his ass off.

“Enjoy
yourself?” I asked, chuckling and still trying to calm my racing
heart.

“Shit yeah,
this car is awesome!” he gushed, rubbing the dashboard
lovingly.

“Well, I’ll
tell you what, if you can last the full eight months, you can have
it,” I bargained, shrugging. He laughed and shook his head,
obviously thinking I was kidding around.

The shopping
was a pleasant change. It was good to get out of the house for a
little while. The only trouble was that I felt like I was on my own
for most of the time. Ashton was constantly distracted and checking
everything out discreetly, so it was almost as if I was talking to
myself half the time.

“Maybe you
should have told Dean where we were going and then you could have
actually relaxed and paid attention to what we’re talking about,” I
snapped as we sat in the café, refuelling before we planned to shop
some more. I glared at him as he watched a group of teenagers walk
past near me, rather than answering the question I’d just directed
at him.

“I told him,
he’s back there,” he replied, motioning over his shoulder with his
head.

A quick glance
in that direction and I spotted Dean in plain clothes, lingering
three stores away. I sighed and frowned, hating being followed
around.

Just as I was
finishing up my coffee, two familiar figures caught my eye through
the window.

Oh God, it
can’t be! Jack!

My eyes widened
at the sight of his blond, unruly hair and straight nose as he
sauntered across the mall in his loose fit jeans and GAP T-shirt. I
jerked in my seat, confused. My heart stopped and then took off in
a sprint.

But as one side
of his mouth pulled up into a smile, my happiness and hope that
maybe the last three years had been a dream faded, and I came back
to reality with a huge, painful bump. My heart broke with loss all
over again as I realised that it wasn’t my Jack after all, it was
his younger brother, Michael.

Accompanying
Michael was his mother, Pam… and now that they’d seen me, it
appeared that they were heading straight for me. Pam smiled warmly,
but my eyes just flicked back to Michael again. My whole body
seemed to go cold. I hadn’t seen him for over a year, and I had
forgotten how much he looked like his brother. He wasn’t built the
same as Jack and was maybe an inch taller, but facially they could
have been twins. And he was the age now that Jack had been when
he’d died.

My hands
started to shake uncontrollably, making my cup rattle against the
little plate that it sat on. A little whimper left my lips because
usually I had time to prepare for seeing them, usually it was on my
terms and I had some warning. I’d never just run into them like
this and I wasn’t sure I could deal with it.

Ashton stood
quickly, gripping my upper arm and hoisting me out of my seat,
pushing me against the wall that was behind me. His body tensed as
he span on the spot, pressing his back against my chest and
shielding me with his body, like he had that first night he came
into my room when I was screaming.

“What is it?”
he asked fiercely, reaching into his jacket pocket, probably
holding his gun or his knife.

I whimpered and
pressed my face into his shoulder, closing my eyes. I couldn’t
speak. I could barely even breathe properly. Grief was overwhelming
me, seeming to all come back at once so that I was drowning in it.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and shout and wail, but nothing
was coming out. There was no escape for my sadness as it just built
inside me, crushing me, filling me up.

I was dimly
aware of Ashton’s cell phone ringing and him answering it in short,
terse sentences. When he turned back to me and cupped my face in
his hands, I looked up into his green eyes and felt my chin
tremble. I couldn’t cope with it. The grief was fresh and raw
again, like it had only just happened, like I’d only just lost Jack
and watched him die.