Nothing Left to Lose (95 page)

A smile
twitched at the corner of her mouth as she nodded. “I won’t.”

“I love you,
Annabelle Spencer.” I stroked the side of her face, wishing I could
make the marks fade.

“And I love
you, Ashton Taylor,” she whispered. I could see the love shining in
her eyes, and hear the truth in her words. I just prayed that her
feelings for me never diminished, because mine never would. She
smiled and wriggled closer to me, wincing as she moved. I wrapped
my arms gently around her and sighed happily. I wanted to ask her
to marry me again, but I resisted the urge. I would do it properly
this time, with a ring and a romantic setting. The last proposal
wasn’t exactly romantic – covered in blood in the back of an
ambulance. I’d need to call Nate and get him to courier something
over to me before I could do it though.

The knowledge
that this girl was mine to keep made my heart soar in my chest.
These last seven weeks had been the worst in my life without her,
but having her in my arms again made up for all of that instantly.
As long as I got to hold her in my arms every day, I would be the
happiest guy in the world.

I ached all
over. Even breathing hurt and the medication they were pumping me
full of barely touched the pain. I felt as if I’d fought ten rounds
in a boxing match. My stomach was hurting like I’d been trampled by
a herd of elephants.

Ashton actually
looked worse than I felt. His face was a mess. He had two black
eyes, a cut with butterfly stitches over the bridge of his nose, a
split lip and a swollen jaw. He smiled and leant in, planting a
small kiss on my forehead. My heart stuttered in my chest, easily
identifiable because I was still strapped up to the heart monitor,
so a cocky, little smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. I
didn’t even feel ashamed or embarrassed by my body’s reaction to
his kisses.

A dreamy,
contented sigh slipped out as my eyes met his. I could see how much
he loved me by the tender way he was looking at me, and that
knowledge made my insides squirm with happiness. How had I gotten
so lucky to have someone like Ashton fall in love with me? He
wanted to marry me. Well, he had asked me to in the ambulance, but
he hadn’t said anything about it again so maybe he was regretting
the rash decision. If he was, I didn’t even care, as long as he
still wanted to be with me.

But I’d almost
lost him. He could have died so easily in that room and I would
have never gotten the chance to tell him how much he meant to me
and how he’d changed my life. I would never be able to thank him
enough for what he did for me. He’d refused to give up on me the
whole time that I pushed him away.

“Ashton,” I
whispered, “I missed you so much these last few weeks.”

“I’ve missed
you too.” He smiled his heart breaking smile and my insides
melted.

My hand
hesitantly caught the bottom of his T-shirt, easing it up slowly. I
needed to see the damage that had been caused; I needed to see for
myself that he was alright.

He chuckled
wickedly. “Easy there, tiger. I don’t think either of us will be
able to do that much physical exercise this soon. Sex will have to
wait a few days,” he joked.

I laughed and
nodded, deciding to play along. “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” I
agreed. “But if you feel up for it, let me know,” I added, smiling
suggestively at him.

“I’m pretty
sure you could get me up for it, Baby Girl,” he teased, winking at
me slyly.

I grinned,
loving how he could make me feel better in an instant. My hand
tugged on the T-shirt again, pulling it up so the bottom of his
stomach was exposed.

“What are you
actually doing, Anna?” he asked, putting his hand on top of
mine.

I blew out a
big breath, looking down at the small patch of exposed skin on his
stomach. I could see the beginning of a bruise there that led up
under the material; I knew this would be bad. “I need to see how
badly you’re hurt. I’m imagining all sorts of things,” I muttered.
“I just need to see for myself that you’re okay, like you keep
claiming.” I wouldn’t be able to rest easy without seeing it for
myself. He frowned, seeming a little hesitant as his hand held mine
still, not letting me remove his shirt. “Ashton Taylor, let me
see,” I ordered, moving his hand away, being careful of his broken
fingers.

He sighed
dramatically and rolled his eyes again. I lifted his T-shirt up.
Every inch of his stomach and sides that wasn’t covered in bandages
and strapping was black and blue with bruises and little cuts. I
gulped and swallowed my sob. This must be hurting him like crazy. I
felt sick.

“I’m so sorry.”
I was trying desperately not to cry again.

His finger
hooked under my chin, tilting my head up gently so that I had to
look at him. “You don’t need to apologise. I’m fine, I promise. It
probably looks worse than it is, and anyway, I would die for you,
so I got off pretty lightly.” He smiled his sexy smile and wiped
the tears from my face, looking at me pleadingly. I smiled weakly
and pressed my lips to his gently, silently conveying through that
kiss how much I loved him and appreciated him. Love and passion
washed over my body, making my skin break out in goosebumps. He
broke the kiss and smiled down at me sheepishly. “I have something
to show you. I’m not actually sure how you’re going to react to
it.” He actually looked a little nervous as he tongued his split
lip.

I raised a
questioning eyebrow. “Something, like what?”

“I got a
tattoo,” he stated.

I gasped,
shocked by the revelation. Ashton Taylor didn’t strike me as the
tattoo-bearing type. “You did? Seriously? Where?” I was actually
strangely excited about it. I wasn’t actually a huge tattoo fan,
but one on him would probably be sexy on a whole other level.

He pointed to
his chest. “Right here, above my heart,” he answered, looking at me
intently.

“Can I
see?”

He sucked in a
breath through his teeth and then nodded uncomfortably. “I hope you
like it. It just kind of belonged there, so I had it done a couple
of weeks ago,” he mumbled nervously. I nodded and looked at him
expectantly. He sighed and gripped the bottom of his T-shirt in his
broken hands, pulling it up to his throat. I gasped immediately at
the sight of his damaged body. I forgot what I was supposed to be
looking at for a few seconds, and then my eyes stopped on it. He
had a tattoo on his chest, directly over his heart. An exquisite
white rose in full bloom with one word underneath it written in
beautiful, black script:

Annabelle

“You had my
name tattooed over your heart?” I asked, shocked.

He nodded.
“Yeah, that’s where you belong.”

I reached out
and traced the letters with one finger. It was stunning. The artist
had done an incredible job. The white of the rose and the black of
my name contrasted shockingly well, and the whole thing placed
against his tanned skin just made my whole body tingle. It was the
sexiest thing I had ever seen. “But we weren’t together when you
had this done. I told you I didn’t love you,” I murmured.

He shrugged.
“It didn’t matter what you said, I loved you. I will always love
you, nothing will ever change that.” He took hold of my hand that
was on his tattoo and pressed my palm over his heart. “That right
there belongs to you, forever.”

Happiness
swelled inside me because of the sweet words that were coming out
of his mouth. I bit on my lip as I looked at it again. A wave of
desire for his body pulsed through me. “I love it,” I whispered,
looking at it in awe. My eyes flicked back up to his face, seeing a
breathtaking smile. “It’s so freaking hot, Ashton. I’m not kidding.
If you hadn’t just been shot and I hadn’t just had surgery, I’d so
be jumping you right now,” I purred.

His body seemed
to stiffen at my words. “I can take a rain-check on that, right?
Like I can cash that jumping in as soon as we’re better?”

I grinned,
chuckling at the hopefulness in his voice. “Hell to the yes,” I
replied.

He cupped my
face in his hands. “God, I love you, woman.” He kissed my
forehead.

“Woman? That
had better be a joke,” I scolded, laughing.

He laughed and
ran his fingers through my hair, down my neck and over my shoulders
before gripping my waist and pressing himself closer to me
carefully. My whole being was just a mass of feelings, a big jumble
of something I couldn’t even describe because each individual
emotion, feeling, and thought, was all tangled together into a big
ball of passion. I longed to kiss every square inch of his chest,
every bruise, every little cut or mark, to try and kiss the pain
away, but my movement was limited.

Instead, we
just lay there facing each other. We didn’t speak, there was
nothing to say and we both felt the same. After about ten minutes
of just enjoying the closeness, he cleared his throat. “Can I talk
to you about something?” he asked, looking slightly
uncomfortable.

I nodded,
raising an eyebrow curiously. “Yeah, sure.”

“I don’t want
to upset you,” he whispered, brushing his hand across my
cheekbone.

I smiled at his
sensitivity. “You won’t upset me. What’s wrong?”

He was
absentmindedly drawing little patterns on the skin at the back of
my neck. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, seeming to
choose his words carefully. “You married him? Carter,” he asked
finally.

I drew in a
shaky breath.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that!
“Not by
choice,” I whispered, praying that he wouldn’t think badly of me. I
didn’t want to marry him, I didn’t want anything.

He nodded
sadly. “I know that, Baby Girl. I just wondered why you didn’t tell
me.”

I winced. “I
didn’t tell anybody,” I admitted.

“Nobody? You
didn’t tell your parents? All this time?” he asked, sounding a
little shocked.

I shook my
head. “No, I was ashamed; I didn’t want anyone to know.”

He kissed my
nose gently. “You don’t need to be ashamed. You never need to be
ashamed because none of it was your fault,” he said tenderly.

I smiled; he
always knew just what to say to make me feel better. “I know. I
guess it doesn’t matter now,” I shrugged, meaning the fact that he
was dead and we weren’t married anymore.

He was quiet
for a little while. “How did you even get married at sixteen?” he
asked curiously.

I sighed at the
memory. “He took me to Vegas; we went through a drive-through
chapel so I didn’t have to speak to anyone. He used my fake ID that
Jack had got me that said I was twenty-one,” I explained,
grimacing. I didn’t want to think about it, or that fact that
Carter couldn’t wait until we got back to his house to consummate
the marriage so he’d pulled over to rape me by the side of an old
road in the back of the car.

“Vegas? When
was that?” he asked, stroking my hair away from my face.

“September
16
^th
, 2008.” I bit my lip; that date was engrained in my
memory.

He winced.
“You’d been with him for six months.”

“I’m sorry I
didn’t tell you, Ashton.” I really was sorry, although I wished in
a way that he had never found out; I could see this was hurting
him.

“It’s okay. I
understand, honestly I do. I’m so sorry that all of this happened
to you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you again, I
promise.”

I smiled at his
understanding, wondering again why on earth an incredible boy like
him would want someone like me, who had so much baggage that I
could barely carry it all. “The only thing that could hurt me now,
Ashton, is you. I’ve given you the power to kill me and you don’t
even know it.”

He laughed and
laced his fingers through mine. “Then I guess you’ll always be safe
because I will never hurt you, not ever,” he promised as he kissed
me tenderly, making everything feel better in my world. He was so
careful, always so gentle that it made my heart ache with love for
him. I smiled and buried my head in his chest and felt a happy tear
fall down my face. The reality that it really was over finally sank
in, and I felt my tired muscles relax into his embrace. Everything
was going to be fine from now on. Ashton loved me. The player had
my name tattooed on his chest. He wanted me forever.

“I love you,
Anna,” he murmured into my hair.

“I love you
more, Ashton.”

I wrapped my
arms around him and smiled against his neck, breathing him in.
Now
I was home. Lying in Ashton’s arms was how I wanted to
spend every waking hour for the rest of my life.

After a week of
lying around in a hospital bed and being scolded by Ashton for
overdoing it every hour of every day, I was finally discharged. The
best thing about being discharged, as far as I could see, was that
Ashton would finally get to sleep in a bed. He’d spent the week
sleeping at my bedside in an uncomfortable chair because he didn’t
want to leave me. The silly boy was suffering for his chivalry too
because every morning, I watched as he stretched his bunched
muscles and winced. He’d refused to share the hospital bed with me
because he was frightened he’d roll on me and tear my stitches. I
was looking forward to tonight as he could finally sleep in a bed
and relax. That wasn’t happening at our apartment though; instead,
we’d travelled to stay with my parents in Washington for a week at
their request. Ashton had called his captain and had been signed
off work for an extra week before he was expected to return to
light duties, so the timing for being pampered by White House staff
had worked out perfectly.

At dinnertime
on our first night at the White House, I dressed in a plain, black
T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. I’d become accustomed to wearing
loose pants for the last week because I didn’t want a pair of jeans
to rub on my stomach and make me sore again. Ashton, on the other
hand, looked incredibly handsome in a pair of perfectly faded denim
jeans and a dark green shirt.