Nothing Left to Lose (75 page)

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Authors: Kirsty Moseley

Tags: #love, #action, #grief, #college, #lust, #agent, #bodyguard

BOOK: Nothing Left to Lose
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I screamed and
screamed; helpless, heartbroken tears fell down my face as the
horror of what I had just seen consumed me entirely. I couldn’t
breathe. I was suffocating. I pushed myself up and put my head
between my knees.

“Annabelle, can
I come in?” Dean called from the other side of the door.

I gasped for
breath as my whole body shook. Sick. I needed to be sick. Swinging
my legs out of bed, I stood but my legs shook so much that I almost
fell. Sweat beaded on my brow and wet the back of my hair.

That was the
worst thing I could have ever dreamed. At least when I had dreams
about things that had already happened, I knew it was over, I woke
up safe, but that dream… what would I do if that happened? If
Ashton was ever hurt, I knew it would crush me inside, beyond
repair this time.

“Annabelle?”
Dean shouted from the hallway, banging on the door loudly.

I couldn’t
answer; my heart was crashing loudly in my ears. I still hadn’t
taken a breath. I couldn’t calm down. Black spots started to appear
in my vision as I stumbled blindly towards my bathroom. When my
head started to spin, I felt that weightless sensation take over,
and suddenly I was falling, falling into the blackness.

 

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

 

 

As my heavy
eyes blinked open, a guy in a green uniform was hovering over me,
touching the side of my neck. I gasped, shocked and confused, and
thrashed, slapping his hand away from me.

As I scooted up
the bed and hit the headboard, Dean stepped forward, holding his
hands up to halt me. “Annabelle, calm down! He’s a doctor, it’s
okay,” he said quickly, setting his hand on my shoulder. I
flinched, flicking my eyes between the two men in my bedroom, only
now noticing that my head was pounding and that my whole body felt
weak. “It’s okay. You passed out. I called an ambulance,” Dean
explained soothingly.

I nodded
weakly, suddenly remembering the feeling of weightlessness moments
before the blackness. Movement from the doorway caught my
attention, and I looked over to see that Peter and the new far
guard were both standing there, watching me anxiously.

“How are you
feeling, Miss Spencer?”

I shook my
head, dazed, and looked back to the newcomer in the green uniform
who’d spoken. “I’m alright. A little fuzzy,” I admitted, rubbing my
forehead. My throat hurt and scratched as I spoke and I knew it was
from all the screaming.

“What
happened?” the guy asked.

I squeezed my
eyes shut against the pictures of Ashton’s broken face that were
trying to force their way back in. The way his eyes had locked on
mine. The sound of his pain filled voice as he told me to run. The
sickening thud as his lifeless body slumped back against the floor.
The hysterical laughter of the man who ruined my life…

“Miss
Spencer?”

I gulped,
coming back to reality. “I… I had a panic attack, I couldn’t
breathe,” I explained. “I’m okay now.”

“Maybe we
should take you to the hospital and get you a thorough check up,
just to be on the safe side,” he replied, packing up his equipment
into his little green bag.

I frowned in
protest. “I’m not going to hospital. I just passed out, that’s all.
Nothing to worry about. This has happened before, a long time ago;
there’s nothing wrong with me that a couple of painkillers and a
good night’s sleep can’t fix.”

He pursed his
lips, obviously displeased with my answer. I didn’t break eye
contact with him, letting him know I wasn’t backing down. There was
no way I was going to hospital because of a panic attack. Finally,
he nodded. “Okay, well try and get some sleep. You may have a
headache in the morning.” He stood and looked down at me with his
stern eyes. “You’ll need to take it easy, and if anything like this
should happen again, then you’ll need to come to hospital for some
in-depth tests.”

“Absolutely.
Thank you.” I scooted down on the bed, tugging the covers up to my
neck because I felt a little exposed in front of three males while
just wearing Ashton’s T-shirt. I watched as he walked over to the
door with Dean, talking quietly with him, obviously relaying
instructions on my care to him.

As they all
stepped out of my bedroom, Dean smiled kindly at me before closing
the door behind him, leaving me in the darkness. I leant over and
flicked on the light, seeing the red numbers flashing on my alarm
clock. 4:26am.

I sighed
heavily and swung my legs over the side of the bed. There was no
way I was going to sleep again tonight, not after seeing that
dream. I never wanted to see that again, I couldn’t. Luckily, my
wobbly legs seemed to hold my weight as I stood and walked
awkwardly to the door. Voices from nearby told me that they were
all still outside, discussing me. I pressed my ear to the door,
trying to hear, but it was no use, I couldn’t make out a single
word.

When I heard
the front door open and then close, and then Dean’s bedroom door
close moments later, I crept out of the bedroom and tiptoed my way
to the kitchen in the darkness. As I reached for the coffee pot,
Dean cleared his throat behind me. I jumped, almost dropping the
glass jug, and spun on the spot, seeing him standing there with one
eyebrow raised and his arms folded across his chest.

“What are you
up to? He said rest and sleep,” he stated, his tone accusing.

I smiled
weakly. “I’m not tired anymore. Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I promised.
As I lied, I noticed that my hands were shaking so I quickly put
down the pot and clasped my hands together out of sight. The last
thing I needed was a lecture, or him insisting that we take an
early morning trip to the hospital.

He sighed,
raking a hand through his short, sandy hair. “Annabelle, you should
rest.”

“I will. I’m
going to make some coffee and then lie on the sofa for a bit.” I
gulped, knowing I needed to broach the subject of Ashton. I just
prayed I could say his name without scenes of the dream surfacing
again because if they did my emotions were sure to betray me.
“Dean, you didn’t call Ashton, did you?”

“No, not yet.
I’ll call him in a bit, he’ll be asleep now,” he replied, looking
at his watch.

I groaned and
shook my head quickly. “Don’t tell him. Please, Dean. If you tell
him this happened, he’ll cut his trip short and he’ll come back,” I
begged. My eyes filled with tears. I desperately wanted Ashton to
have a nice time with his friends; I didn’t want to be the one that
ruined all of his fun all the time.

“Annabelle, I
need to tell him. He specifically made me promise to tell him if
you had a bad night,” he smiled apologetically.

My eyes widened
fractionally at the revelation that Ashton had made Dean promise
that, but to be honest, I wasn’t that surprised about it. He did
take overprotective bodyguard to a whole new level, after all.
“Please don’t. We don’t need to tell him that this happened. He
deserves to have this weekend. He works all the time, he even gave
up his Christmas for me. Please?” My tears were falling now.

He closed his
eyes and blew out a hefty breath. “If he finds out I didn’t tell
him, he’ll give me hell,” he explained.

I winced at
that. I could just imagine how furious Ashton would be. “He won’t
find out,” I pouted, silently begging him with my eyes.

Finally, he
sighed. “I’m going to bed, I’ll think about it,” he mumbled as he
shook his head and walked to the other bedroom.

My shoulders
relaxed because hopefully he’d make the right decision and let
Ashton have his time off. Turning my attention back to the
discarded coffee pot, I made a strong black coffee, adding extra
sugars, because I already felt exhausted and listless.

 

Just after
eight in the morning, I was sitting and playing on Ashton’s PS4
when my cell phone rang. My heart leapt into my throat because I
already knew it was him calling me, just like he’d promised he
would. I jumped to get it, almost knocking it off the side in my
haste. I was ridiculously eager to hear his voice and reassure
myself that he was alright and that it was, in fact, just a
horrible dream I’d had last night.

I forced my
most cheerful voice as I answered so that he wouldn’t know anything
was wrong. “Hey, Pretty Boy.”

“Hey. Did I
wake you?”

My heart
thumped at the sound of his sexy voice. I smiled sadly. “No, I’m
awake. How are you? Plane ride okay? Did you meet up with the boys
alright?” I asked, trying to steer the subject from sleeping.

“Yeah, the
flight was good. Met up with everyone here at the hotel. Nate and
Seth were practically buzzing by the time I met them, I’m supposed
to give you a thank you hug from them both for putting them in
first class with the free champagne and peanuts.”

I chuckled.
“Those peanuts are good,” I joked, grinning.

He laughed too.
“So, how did you sleep?” he inquired, sounding almost afraid to
ask.

I winced and
flicked my eyes towards Dean’s bedroom door.
Well, he didn’t
specifically say no, he said he would think about it…

“I slept good,”
I lied, cringing. “I slept on your side, maybe that was the
key.”

“Yeah? That’s
great, Baby Girl. I was so worried about you all night,” he
admitted.

I closed my
eyes, trying to ignore that nagging feeling inside me that told me
that I shouldn’t be lying to him. But my intentions were good, I
was lying so that he wouldn’t abandon his life, yet again, and come
to my rescue. “You shouldn’t worry about me, I’m fine. So, are you
looking forward to today? What time are you going to the race
track?” I asked, needing to change the subject.

“The tour
starts at one, so we need to leave here about quarter to, I guess.
The hotel you booked for us is literally on the edge of the track.
It’s so nice, you’d love it here. Maybe we could come here one
time, and we could actually watch the Grand Prix race? Maybe I
could convert you to a race fan,” he teased.

I laughed. “I
don’t think so, you’ve got more chance of making me a football
fan,” I joked, smiling.

“Right, I guess
you get to look at the guys’ asses then.”

“You know I
like a nice ass,” I joked.

“Yeah, I know,”
he replied, sounding amused.

Dean’s bedroom
door clicked open, and my eyes widened in horror. He would take one
look at me and know that I was talking to Ashton and he’d tell him,
without a doubt. “I’d better go, I’ve got breakfast in the pan,” I
lied, needing to get off the phone.

“Oh yeah? And
what are you making for my replacement?” Ashton asked
curiously.

“French toast,”
I teased.

He groaned.
“Baby Girl, that’s not fair, you know I love your French toast!” he
whined.

“I’m sure they
have French toast in your hotel.” I watched as Dean strutted out of
his bedroom, rubbing his eyes roughly as he stalked towards the
kitchen. When his gaze flicked in my direction, I cringed and bit
my lip. “I’ve got to go; I’ll speak to you later, okay? Call me
when you get time and let me know how you all got on driving,” I
suggested, watching as Dean changed his course and strutted over
towards me, his eyes accusing and hard.

“Okay, I will.
And if the lawyer guy comes before I call you, then you call me
instead and let me know what he said,” he instructed. “I miss you,
Anna.”

My insides
tingled, and my heart skipped a beat at hearing those words in his
silky smooth voice. “Miss you too, bye.”
Wow, if only he knew
how much I missed him, he’d be frightened to death.

I disconnected
the call just as Dean reached out to snatch it from my hand. He was
glaring at me. “You have got to be kidding me! You called him and
told him you were fine?” he growled angrily.

I shook my head
innocently. “No, he called me,” I corrected, but his glare seemed
to deepen at my sarcasm. “I did tell him I was fine though,” I
admitted. “He’s having a really nice time. Please don’t ruin this
for him? He’ll never find out, just tell the other two not to say
anything, and we’ll pretend that everything was fine,” I
begged.

He huffed
angrily and scowled at me. “Well, I don’t suppose I have a choice
now, considering you’ve already made the decision for me, do I?” he
snapped, shaking his head disapprovingly.

I jumped up,
smiling with relief. “Thank you! As payback, I’ll make you
breakfast, anything you want, you just name it.” I practically
skipped to the kitchen.

He followed
behind me with a scowl still plastered on his face. “Annabelle, if
he finds out, I expect you to back me up and tell him this wasn’t
my idea and that you railroaded me into it.”

I nodded
enthusiastically. “Absolutely, I promise.” I crossed my heart with
one finger and grinned. “But he won’t find out anyway. I won’t say
anything, I swear.” I smiled reassuringly and stopped in front of
the fridge. “So, what’s it to be? Eggs, pancakes, waffles?” I
offered, waving my hands at the stove.

He shrugged and
his scowl fell away, now replaced by a smile. “No wonder Ashton’s
crazy about you if you treat him like this all the time.” I
recoiled, taken aback by his words.
He thinks Ashton is crazy
about me?
I shrugged it off and looked at Dean expectantly; he
still hadn’t answered the question. “Pancakes and bacon?” he
suggested. I grinned and pulled the stuff from the fridge, getting
to work.

 

Later that
afternoon, I was chewing on my nails so much that they were
starting to bleed, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from doing
it. The man with the greying, thinning hair in the expensive suit
sitting opposite me on the sofa looked just the same as he did
three years ago, although maybe a little thicker around the middle.
This was the man that had sat me down and convinced me that I
needed to give evidence at Carter’s trial the first time. I hadn’t
wanted to, in fact, I’d adamantly protested, but he’d talked at me
and talked at me until I’d given in. Of course, there were
restrictions on what I would give evidence on. I’d point blank
refused to tell anyone what really went on between me and Carter at
his house, so none of the abuse, rapes, or kidnapping charges were
ever filed against him, much to this man’s disgust.

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