Nothing Left to Lose (91 page)

“I love you,” I
replied, instantly. It was a natural response to the order,
although every single syllable left me feeling dirty and used.

He sighed
contentedly, his hand cupping the side of my face, caressing it
gently with his thumb. He nodded and pulled away, a playful smile
on his face. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do; we’ll play Russian
roulette. We’ll each do a shot, the three of us, and if he’s still
alive then he can go free,” he offered, grinning happily.

I started to
shake, I hated this game. This game was the reason that guns
terrified me.

Wait, is he
actually going to give me a gun? If he gives me a gun, I’m going to
kill him with it!
I felt the smile tugging at the corners of my
mouth, and I fought to keep my composure so that he wouldn’t know
what I was thinking. I nodded eagerly, and he smiled at me
curiously.

“Are you over
your gun phobia now, Princess?” he asked.

I shook my head
in response. “No. Guns still scare the hell out of me, but I really
want him to go free. I’ll do anything. I’ll take his shot as well
as mine,” I offered, holding my hand out for the gun.

“No, you
fucking will not, Anna!” Ashton cried, stepping forward. One of the
other men shoved him against the wall, punching him repeatedly in
the stomach and chest. The sound of Ashton in pain would haunt me
forever.

“Stop it!
Please, stop it!” I screamed, clinging to Carter’s shirt, almost
shaking him in desperation.

Carter laughed
quietly. “Richard, stop, we have a game to play,” he chirped
excitedly. The guy stopped hitting him and stepped back.

Ashton pushed
himself painfully back to his feet. “Anna, don’t,” he begged,
barely able to talk. I turned away from his face. I couldn’t look
at him anymore; he was breaking my heart. He’d only just fixed it
and now he was breaking it again. Worse this time, nothing could
ever fix me; I would never get over him because he was everything
that was good in my world.

I watched
Carter take out all of the bullets and put one back in; the whole
time a grin was stretched across his face. “Now, I don’t think I
want to give a SWAT Agent a gun so I’ll pull yours for you,” he
said to Ashton, who actually didn’t look frightened, just extremely
pissed off and murderously angry.

I couldn’t
allow that to happen, I couldn’t take the chance of the bullet
being in the chamber when the gun went off. “No! Point it at me,
I’ll take his one too,” I insisted. A lone tear rolled down my
cheek as I reached for Carter’s hand, trying to pull the gun in my
direction.

Carter scoffed.
“Princess, that’s not how the game is played, you know that, you’ve
played before,” he stated sternly, raising his gun to Ashton,
whilst holding me back with his other hand. Panic surged through me
and I grabbed for his arm again. He shifted and rewarded me with
another slap to my already sore face. I yelped and slammed against
the wall, putting my hands out for balance to stop me from falling
to the floor.

“I’m going to
kill you!” Ashton growled through his teeth. “I swear to God, I’m
going to rip you to fucking shreds with my bare hands.”

Carter chose to
ignore him and didn’t respond. The gun was pointed directly at
Ashton’s face. “Carter! At least aim for his leg or something!
Please, I don’t want anyone else to die today. Please?” I
begged.

My heart was in
my throat as Carter’s finger squeezed the trigger. I flinched,
waiting for the loud bang, waiting for the sound of Ashton’s
agonising cry of pain as the bullet ripped through his flesh,
waiting for the sound of his body hitting the floor.

But nothing
happened. It just clicked.

Unable to hold
my nerve anymore, I turned to the side and vomited violently.
Carter laughed wickedly, gripping my arm and pulling me to my feet
while I continued to dry heave. “Nope, not over your gun phobia.
You threw up last time we played too, you remember that? Best night
of my life,” he cooed, looking right into my eyes. I was barely
able to stop myself from punching him in the face; I just needed to
get Ashton out first. “You remember that night, right?” he
repeated, slipping his hand down to my ass and pulling my body
flush against his. I nodded and closed my eyes, willing myself not
to remember the night that he first forced himself on me and took
my innocence. My whole body was shaking, my breathing was coming in
gasps, and my heart was beating too fast. I closed my eyes,
fighting for control of my emotions so that I didn’t switch off and
go into meltdown – that wouldn’t help Ashton survive.

When I opened
my eyes, I saw that Carter was looking at me, clearly amused. He
wiped my mouth roughly, laughing before bending and planting a kiss
on the corner of my mouth. “Your turn now, Princess,” he
instructed, waggling his eyebrows at me. He turned the gun in his
hand so he held out the handle to me. I looked at it hesitantly,
unsure if I would be able to do what I had planned. I took a deep
breath before raising a shaky hand and taking the gun from his
grasp. “That’s a good girl. All you need to do is pull the
trigger.” He smiled and pushed the gun so it was pointing under my
chin. I closed my eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. When I
opened them, I looked straight at Ashton. I nodded, hoping that he
would get ready and know what I was planning.

I took one last
deep breath before I whipped my arm down, aiming at Carter’s chest
and pulled the trigger again and again, counting them as they went
through the chamber. Ashton had one click, and this was probably
only a six shooter gun.

Click

Click

Click

Click.

Okay, it’s
the next one!
I braced myself for the slight recoil of the gun.
I pulled the trigger again.

Click

Nothing
happened. I pulled again and again, still nothing. Ashton groaned.
What? No! Why didn’t it go off?

Carter burst
out laughing and took the gun out of my trembling hand. “As if I
would give you a loaded gun, Princess. You’d probably shoot your
beautiful face off, then where would I be? Widowed at
twenty-eight,” he said, pulling me to him. “But I am pretty pissed
off that you just tried to shoot me,” he growled, pulling my hair
back and slamming me into the wall.

Oh shit, this
is it, Anna, fight or die.

I heard a
gunshot go off. A real one this time, loud and horrifying. I heard
a groan of pain, I snapped my head around quickly to see what had
happened, and my world collapsed in on itself. Ashton was falling
to the floor, blood seeping across the shoulder of his shirt. I
screamed hysterically. He was dead. Ashton, the love of my life, my
soul mate, the only thing I cared about, was dead.

Desperation and
horror washed over me as Carter threw me to the floor. I wanted to
stay there and curl into a ball and die, but I couldn’t. Carter
wouldn’t let me die. I would have to live, knowing that Ashton was
dead because of me, and I couldn’t do that.

Either Carter
was going to die or I was. I wouldn’t live without Ashton. I pushed
myself up off the floor and punched Carter hard in the face,
catching him off-guard and sending him stumbling backwards. My foot
shot out and landed a kick right in the middle of his chest which
made him fall to his knees. While he groaned in pain, I took the
advantage, grabbing the back of his hair and slamming his face into
my knee with as much force as I could manage. I heard his nose snap
and I smiled, throwing him to the floor, smiling as he writhed in
agony. I kicked him in the groin and stomach, bringing my foot back
again to kick him in the face, but he grabbed my foot, pulling hard
so I fell onto my back, knocking the wind out of me.

“Shit,” I
gasped as I saw him getting to his feet.

I could vaguely
hear sounds of a scuffle, a chair or table breaking, but all I
could focus on was Carter. He was going to kill me, I could see it
on his face, there was no going back this time; this was it. I
rolled to my side, pushing myself up to all fours. As he went to
kick me in the face, I put my hands up to shield myself and pushed
his leg to the side, making him lose his balance slightly, allowing
me time to get to my feet.

I smirked at
his shocked expression; I’d never once tried to fight him back,
well, not like this anyway. My meagre sixteen year old attempts at
fighting him were pathetic because back then I’d known nothing,
unlike now. “Yeah, I had lessons. I wanted to be able to kill you
if I ever saw you again,” I explained, shrugging.

I was actually
enjoying this. My back was hurting like hell, but I ignored it as
he came for me again, almost growling with rage. His hand shot out
towards my hair, so I whipped my head out of the way and kicked him
in the stomach. Stepping forward, I grabbed hold of his shirt,
throwing my knee up as hard as I could into his stomach twice
before he grabbed me and slammed me into the wall.

He pulled his
arm back and I saw a flash of silver before pain like nothing I had
ever felt in my life blasted through my stomach. It felt like a
burning hot poker had been shoved into me. I grunted, gasping for
breath as he pulled his arm back, sliding the knife back from my
flesh before driving it back into my stomach again.

Using all of my
might, I shoved him away from me, seeing the serrated edged flick
knife he had in his hand. My blood dripped from the blade, landing
in patters at his feet. I sucked in a ragged breath, leaning
against the wall for support as my hand fumbled at my stomach,
feeling my wet, soggy T-shirt.

I could taste
the blood in my mouth and my whole body seemed like it now weighed
a thousand pounds. My breathing was laboured as my lungs
constricted because of the pain that was consuming me, crushing me,
drowning me.

“Princess? I…
Oh God, what have I done?” Carter gasped, stepping forward, his
eyes wide and frantic. “Shit. I need to get you some help. You’ll
be fine, you’ll be fine,” he muttered, reaching down and pressing
his hands over the wounds he’d inflicted, trying to staunch the
blood flow. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have pushed me. You made
me do this!” he ranted, shaking his head angrily. I wasn’t sure if
he was angry at himself for stabbing me, or angry at me because I’d
‘made’ him do it.

“I hate you,
you sick son of a bitch. I never loved you. Just let me die!” I
hissed, shoving his hands away from me with as much strength as I
could manage.

He recoiled,
his mouth popping open in shock. Clearly, in his sick, twisted,
little mind, we loved each other and were the perfect couple. He
didn’t understand that he murdered my boyfriend, kidnapped me,
raped me, beat me, starved me, and shattered my soul. He only saw
what he wanted to see.

The pain in my
stomach was blinding me. I was exhausted. I couldn’t stand anymore;
my legs wouldn’t support my weight. I could barely breathe through
the pain and the grief of seeing Ashton die. I slumped to the
floor. Death was coming too slowly; I wanted it over with already.
I knew just how to make Carter angry enough to end me quickly.

“That agent
that everyone thinks was just undercover and an act, well, he
wasn’t. I love him. I’ll always love him. You should just kill me
now because I’ll never stop fighting you, I’ll never give in. I’ll
never conform. I’ll never feel anything for you but hatred!” I
spat.

“You ungrateful
little bitch! Mark kept trying to tell me that it didn’t look like
a cover, but I refused to believe it,” he growled. He stepped
forward and I saw the resigned expression wash over his face as he
finally realised that I would never be what he wanted me to be, we
would never have what he wanted us to have.

“I hate you,
you piece of shit!” I shouted, sneering at him. “Just kill me
already!”

His eyes
flashed with menace at my disrespect and he staggered forward, his
lips pressed into a thin line as he twirled the knife in his hand.
I fought a smile, knowing that death was coming for me now. For the
last six and a half months that I’d known Ashton, I’d learned to
live again. For those six and a half months, I didn’t want to die.
But he was gone now, and so was my reason for being.

I closed my
eyes and thought of Ashton. His eyes, and the way his hair felt
when I ran my fingers through it. I thought of the way he held me
at night, his laugh, his smile, and the amused way he would look at
me when I was behaving like a bitch to him. I remembered the way he
kissed me, his taste, the way his smell made me feel, and how his
voice sounded when he said he loved me. I smiled at the thoughts,
and was thankful that the nightmare that I called a life was
finally over.

A loud bang
erupted out of nowhere. A gunshot, then another, and another, and
another.

I waited for
the pain, but it never came. My eyes fluttered open, seeing
Carter’s wide eyes. He coughed and blood gurgled out of his mouth.
He slumped down onto his knees in front of me, and another shot
filled the room. My breath caught in my throat as he fell, face
first onto the floor, with a heavy thump.

He’s dead?
But he can’t be dead; he was going to kill me!
I looked up to
see Ashton leaning against the wall, holding a gun out in front of
him. His face was murderously angry. He was covered in blood and
dirt, his T-shirt was ripped, and his body slightly hunched on one
side as if he was nursing it. He looked like a hot freaking
badass.

I couldn’t
speak. Confusion made my brain fuzzy. He was dead. I heard the
shot. I saw him fall. He definitely died.

He pushed off
the wall, leaving a trail of blood smeared there and limped over to
me, practically falling down to my side. He looked like hell. His
face was broken and swollen, there was blood everywhere and his
white T-shirt was now almost entirely red, from where it was soaked
with blood. His hands were swollen and grazed and he could barely
breathe, but he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my
life.