Nothing Left to Lose (5 page)

As I stalked up
the hallway, fast footsteps sounded as he ran to catch me up.
“Thanks for waiting,” he muttered sarcastically.

I scowled over
at him. In all honesty, I was a little surprised at his attitude.
Usually the guards were all
‘Yes, Miss Spencer. No, Miss
Spencer’
. Clearly this guy had some balls. “Whatever, pretty
boy. You want me to show you to your room or not?” I snapped. My
body still hurt and I wanted to take a nap before dinner.

“Sure, that’d
be great.” His arm slipped around my shoulder. My heart seemed to
stop before my body reacted immediately. I ducked under his arm and
put both hands on his chest, shoving him as hard as I could.
Because I’d caught him off guard, he stumbled back a step and
looked at me with wide, horrified eyes. My teeth clenched together
as I pulled back my right arm, throwing a punch in the general
direction of his face. But he was too fast for me and threw his arm
up to block my hit before holding both hands up innocently.

“I’m sorry! I
shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” he apologised quickly,
shaking his head.

Tears welled in
my eyes as my body shook from the shock of it. Male attention
wasn’t something I could deal with anymore. It brought back too
many memories that I could barely even cope with.

“That’s it,
you’re gone,” I growled, spinning on my heel, about to march back
to my father’s office and demand that he be transferred.

“Oh shit, come
on, no, please? I promise that won’t ever happen again, I just
forgot myself, that’s all. Please? I need this job,” he begged, as
I marched down the hallway.

The pleading
tone to his voice seemed to strike a chord inside me and I stopped,
gritting my teeth, considering. I swallowed the lump that formed in
my throat and turned to face him. I could see how sorry he was just
by his slumped shoulders.

“You’re an
asshole,” I spat venomously. These men had no idea of the power
they held over me and how much even just a casual touch could
affect me for days afterwards.

He nodded,
holding up his hands innocently.

“Don’t ever
touch me again. You’re already hanging by a thread,” I muttered,
shaking my head angrily. I had no idea why I was giving him another
chance. Usually I would have strutted into my father’s office and
demanded they send him away, but the sorrow in his eyes was
evident, so I knew it was just an innocent move that wouldn’t occur
again anytime soon.

He nodded in
agreement, so I resumed the tour. As we walked past doors in the
hallway, I said the names of the rooms but didn’t give him a chance
to look in them. He could find his own way around; I didn’t owe him
anything.

“Kitchen.
Dining room. Games room. Lounge. Den. The gym’s down there,” I
said, pointing to my favourite part of the whole house.

“Wait, you have
your own gym? Can I see it?” he asked excitedly. I risked a
sideways glance at him. He was grinning happily; he obviously liked
to exercise, which was actually pretty apparent by his toned
physique.

“Sure, go
ahead.” I smiled and waved him into the gym. As soon as he was out
of sight, I abandoned my tour and walked up to my room, slamming
the door behind me. I threw myself down on the bed, sighing deeply.
Eight months I’d been told he was here for. He definitely wouldn’t
last more than a month, tops.

After about
half an hour, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I groaned at
the interruption, shoving my sketch pad under my pillow. “What do
you want?” I called, not in the mood to socialise any more
today.

“Can I come
in?” Ashton retorted. I pushed myself up from the bed, chuckling
wickedly because he was clearly annoyed with me for running off and
leaving him. As I pulled open the door, his annoyed face greeted
me. “Yeah, that was funny,” he said sarcastically. I full on
laughed and cocked my head to the side, not caring that he was
annoyed with me. His frown deepened. “I need to come in and pace
your room.”

My grip on my
door handle tightened as I pulled it close to my side, blocking his
entry. “What? Go pace in your own room, it’s right next door,” I
scoffed, nodding towards the door next to mine.

“Yeah I know,
someone showed me after you ditched me,” he muttered sarcastically.
“I didn’t mean I wanted to pace
in
your room though. I need
to pace your room out so I know where everything is.”

I frowned, not
liking the idea of having someone in my private space. I didn’t
usually allow agents in my room, but his stern expression told me
that he wasn’t going away until he’d done whatever it was that he
wanted. I sighed deeply and shoved open my door, gesturing for him
to come in. “You’re freaking weird! No one else has paced my room
before.”

As he walked
in, his eyes flitted around. My bedroom was plain apart from my
sketches that were stuck all over one wall; they were all to do
with the same thing – Jack. No one knew that though, everyone just
thought they were different things – a pair of blue eyes here, a
dandelion there, a football stadium with a player celebrating, a
smudge that was the exact shape of his birthmark he had on the edge
of his hairline. I had drawn them all last year. I didn’t draw Jack
anymore; I tried to, but it just hurt too much. Last year was when
I decided to stop feeling anything, and drawing Jack just made the
pain come back in droves. The things I drew now I didn’t show
anyone, they were too dark. I didn’t put them on my wall; I hid
them or destroyed them before anyone saw and demanded that I seek
help again. I refused to go back to the hospital.

“These are
really great,” Ashton complimented, looking at my wall of
sketches.

I sat on my bed
and pulled my knees up to my chest. “Thanks,” I mumbled, watching
him look at each one individually.

“What’s this
one?” he asked, pointing to one of Jack’s birthmark.

I sighed,
shrugging. “What does it look like to you? It’s one of those
inkblot tests. It’s whatever you think it is.”

He turned back
to it, cocking his head to the side, staring at it intently for a
few seconds before he spoke. “Huh, well then maybe I’m hungry
because this looks like a cheeseburger and fries, heavy on the
ketchup.” Not expecting such a witty response, his comment caught
me off guard and, uncharacteristically, I burst out laughing. He
turned back to me and smiled, seeming almost proud of himself. “So
I’d better get pacing, it may take a while.” He smiled at me
apologetically.

I sat back
against the headboard and watched him walking around my room.
Starting at the door, he would pace to the bed, then the door to
the closet, the door to the window, bed to the window, bed to the
closet. He went on and on for about twenty minutes. I watched him
silently the whole time, just resting my chin on my knees. He was
very methodical, but I had no idea why he was doing it.

“Okay, I’m
done. I just need to ask you a few questions, then I’ll let you get
back to hating me or whatever you were doing before I came in,” he
said, smiling.

I rolled my
eyes. “Fine, Pretty Boy, what do you want to know?”

“What side of
the bed do you sleep on?”

“What the hell
does that have to do with anything?” My temper was rising again, I
could feel it.

He shrugged
innocently. “I need to know so that if I have to come in and get
you, I’ll know where you’ll be.”

“Oh for
goodness’ sake! None of the other guards have done anything like
this or asked stupid questions! No one can get in the house. We
have security, dumbass,” I spat acidly.

A smile tugged
at one corner of his mouth. “Just humour me, please. I need all the
information so I can keep you safe. I don’t care what other guards
have done; I’m here to stay, so at least you’ll only have to go
through this once.”

I laughed
humourlessly. “You’ll quit, Pretty Boy, trust me, they all do.
Everyone leaves me eventually,” I stated confidently.

His cocky smile
fell from his face immediately at my words. “Please just answer the
questions so I can keep you safe.” He pouted, looking like a lost
puppy.

I gulped as I
realised that he’d just used the cute puppy dog face on me, Jack
used to pull that trick all the time. “Ugh fine, I tend to sleep in
the middle of the bed.”

“Okay. Do you
have any weapons in your room?” he asked, looking round as if he
could see anything. I shook my head in response. He nodded. “Can
you shoot a gun?”

I recoiled at
the word. I hated guns, I’d seen too many of them in my lifetime
already. “No,” I croaked, my mouth suddenly dry.

He pursed his
lips before nodding. “I’ll teach you to shoot. Just in case. You
can never be too prepared for anything.”

Needing this
conversation to be over and for him to leave the only place I
considered a sanctuary, I shrugged in agreement. “Are you done
now?” I asked, nodding towards the door, signalling for him to
leave.

“Er… I just
have one more thing, but I don’t want to upset you or anything,” he
said quietly. I took a deep breath and waited for him to continue.
“I’m supposed to be your boyfriend. For people to believe that lie,
I’m going to have to touch you from time to time.”

Instantly, my
heart slammed in my chest and a wave of nausea rolled over me. He
scooted closer to me on the bed. I flinched at his closeness and
jumped up quickly, holding my hands in front of me in protest.
“Don’t, just don’t,” I muttered, looking at him pleadingly. My
lunch was threatening to come back up.

“I’m not going
to touch you. I just… Anna, to pull this off I’m going to have to
be able to touch you in public. Maybe just hold your hand,” he
suggested, standing too but making no moves to come near me.

“Why don’t we
just say we’re friends?” I offered.

He shook his
head. “No. The reason they want me as your boyfriend is to keep the
guys away from you. Apparently it’s always the guys that get you
kicked out,” he countered, chuckling at something.

“No, actually
it’s always my temper that gets me kicked out,” I corrected,
smiling weakly as I backed up another step. “Hey, we could say I’m
a lesbian,” I bargained, praying he’d agree.

He chuckled,
watching me as I backed up again. “Let’s just stick to the brief. I
just need you to know that I’m here to protect you. I would never
hurt you, ever.” His eyes locked onto mine as he stepped
forwards.

I held my
breath, wondering if he too could hear my heart racing. He stopped
in front of me and held out his hand, smiling reassuringly. My eyes
dropped to it, and I shook my head. I couldn’t do it. It would
bring back memories of
him,
and I couldn’t think about
him.

“Please, I
can’t,” I begged, swallowing the lump that was stuck in my
throat.

“I will never
hurt you. I want to protect you,” he whispered.

Oh come on,
Anna, get a grip of yourself! He’s an agent here to protect you,
you’re in a house full of people, he’s not going to attack you!
Just move your hand and stop being such a damn wimp!
My mental
chastising had a positive impact on my confidence, so I raised a
trembling hand and put it in his. His fingers threaded through
mine, and he squeezed gently. I looked at my hand, shocked. It
didn’t actually feel too bad, it was quite pleasant actually, warm
and soft. Some of my stress evaporated, and I glanced up at his
handsome face; a small satisfied smile graced his lips.

“That’s great,
Anna. Maybe if we tried to hold hands for a little a bit every day,
then you’d get used to it before we start college next week,” he
suggested.

“You won’t be
here next week, Pretty Boy,” I answered confidently.

He laughed
incredulously. “Anna, I don’t quit, I never quit, so you’d better
get used to me. I’m going to be around for a while, whether you
like it or not,” he replied arrogantly.

I yanked my
hand out of his and folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t need a
fucking babysitter! I can take care of myself,” I stated, annoyed
again.

He raised one
eyebrow and smiled wickedly. “Really? You can take care of
yourself? So if I wanted to throw you down on the bed, I couldn’t
do that?”

Oh God!
My heart took off in double time. “Ashton, if you touch me, I’m
gonna break your pretty face,” I warned.

A confident
smile crept onto his lips. “You couldn’t land one punch before I
pin you to the bed.”

He took a step
forward and I didn’t give him the opportunity to touch me. I shot
my hand out to punch him in the stomach, but he knocked my hand
away easily before it got anywhere near him. My stomach clenched
with fear because that small move showed me that he was faster than
me. Panic made my blood go cold, but I wasn’t willing to concede
yet. I’d never give up without a fight again. He took another step
towards me and I sent a kick towards him as hard as I could. He
sidestepped it easily, caught my leg and closed the distance
between us so fast that I didn’t have time to react. His free arm
wrapped around my waist, and he threw us both onto the bed.

As he landed on
top of me, I felt the scream ripping its way up my throat as the
panic took over. He put one hand over my mouth and grabbed my hands
with the other, pinning them above my head, his body pressing me
into the bed. I screamed and thrashed, trying to throw him off me
as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think of anything other than
Carter, but I couldn’t stop myself from returning to those memories
again. In my head, I saw his brown eyes sparkling with excitement
as he prepared to rape me. I heaved and turned my head to the side
in defeat, letting the tears fall as I just stopped struggling.
There was no point, he was too strong for me.

I waited for
the pain, but it never came. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up.
Ashton was still holding me down on the bed, but somehow he wasn’t
heavy, as if he was holding his weight off me.