Blurring the Lines

by Kirsty Moseley

  I grinned. “I love you too,” I replied immediately, feeling my heart skip a beat.

  His lips crashed against mine forcefully; kissing me so fiercely that it was like he was unleashing all of his passion in one go. My arms looped around his neck and we fell back into the pillows, not breaking the kiss. His love for me resonated through every cell in my body, overwhelming me, consuming me, owning me. When the kiss broke, I was breathless. His eyes glittered with excitement and joy as he grinned down at me.

  “Sorry, I need to hear it again,” he stated, looking at me hopefully.

  I giggled wickedly, tangling my hand into the back of his hair. “Wow, you’re needy.”

  He laughed and kissed me again, making my world spin faster. Little kisses were planted across my cheek. “I love you, Annabelle Spencer,” he purred in my ear. My whole body tingled as I gripped his hips between my knees, pulling him closer, needing him closer. I pressed my hand against the small of his back, pinning him against me. There was no way I was letting go now.

  “I love you so much, Ashton,” I promised. If he knew how much, I would be in serious trouble. I had a feeling he could do anything and I would still take him back. He had my heart; I just prayed he wouldn’t break it. He smiled and let out a victorious growl as he crashed his lips back to mine, kissing me fiercely, setting my whole body on fire. I needed him. I needed that closeness, that intimacy that I only ever had with him. “Make love to me,” I begged, running my hands down his back, clutching him closer to me.

  Raw desire was almost killing me. He moaned and started to peel my clothes off, slowly, trailing his fingers over my body, making me shiver. I smiled against his lips, and he pulled back and smiled too, his green eyes shining with excitement and lust, and most importantly, love.

  Everything was slow, tender, perfect. Every touch filled with love, need and want. It wasn’t sex, we were making love, and we both knew it. Everything was beautiful and all consuming. He completed me, this boy. He was my life and the very thing I needed. The passion brought tears to my eyes because it was so perfect. After, I held him close on top of me as we both struggled to breathe. I was exhausted, not just from the physical exertion but from the feeling and the emotions that went into it.

  He loves me…

  He was kissing my neck as I combed my finger through the back of his hair, smiling contentedly.

  He loves me…He really loves me. I still couldn’t quite get my head around it.

  After a few minutes he shifted off me, lying down at my side and brushing my hair from my sweaty forehead. He kissed me gently, just once, a soft, chaste kiss, before propping his head up on his elbow and just smiling down at me. Neither of us spoke, it was just the perfect moment, and I didn’t ever want it to end.

  After an eternity of comfortable silence, he spoke, “I want to ask you something,” he whispered.

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?” I asked, smiling, feeling happier than I had ever felt in my life.

  “Will you be my girlfriend? Like, for real? Be with me, be mine,” he asked, looking at me hopefully.

  Mine. That word had never had much meaning in it before, but hearing Ashton asking me to be ‘mine’, I knew I would never hear that word the same again. “Of course I will.”

  “I promise I’ll be the best boyfriend in the world,” he replied, looking at me tenderly.

  I had no doubt in my mind about that. “You already are.”

  He smiled and kissed me again. “I love you, Baby Girl.”

  My heart skipped a beat at the sound of those words from his mouth; they were the sexiest damn words in the history of the world. I could feel him starting to get aroused again against my thigh, and I felt the blush creep onto my cheeks. He was like some kind of machine.

  “Well, I love you back,” I said playfully as I rolled him under me and kissed him, starting all over again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For two full days and nights, I felt like I was walking on air. They describe being in love like being on cloud nine, but to me, it felt almost like twelve or thirteen at least. But, of course, something had to come along and ruin it. It was as if the universe refused to allow me to be happy. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be happy, just like I always thought. Ashton and I had barely left the apartment for two days since we first made the L-word confession. At my request, we’d skipped school and it wasn’t only because we were too wrapped up in exploring each other’s bodies, though that certainly was a part of it, but it was also because of the trial. I didn’t want to go anywhere in case I was called up suddenly and had to jump on a flight to go and give my evidence. The trial weighed on us both, casting a shadow over everything that should be wonderful and full of roses. It seemed that Carter still had a way of ruining my life, even without knowing he was doing it.

  On the third morning, we didn’t even bother setting an alarm. It surprised me when I woke to the sound of Ashton’s cell phone ringing loudly from the bedside unit. I nudged him with my elbow as I eyed the alarm clock, seeing that it was half past ten in the morning.

  He let out a loud, sleep-filled groan as he pushed himself up off me and fumbled for his phone. I rolled over to face him, feeling the smile creep onto my face because he just looked so mouth-wateringly gorgeous in the morning. Knowing that the boy was mine literally made my heart pick up in double-time.

  “Hello?” he muttered into the phone, running a hand through his messed up, I-had-a-lot-of-mind-blowing-sex-last-night hair. His eyes immediately widened as the muscles in his shoulders tightened. He practically jumped out of the bed, pulling on yesterday’s jeans. “Yes, sir,” he said, zipping them up with one hand. His eyes flicked to me. “No, she’s right here. Yeah okay, one moment, sir,” He pulled the phone away from his ear, frowning. “It’s your father, Anna. He wants me to put the call on speaker so he can talk to both of us,” Ashton explained, fiddling with his phone.

  My mouth popped open, immediately knowing what this would be about. Somehow, he had found out that Ashton and I were together. He was probably calling to express his displeasure and to tell us to cease the relationship and for Ashton to pack his bags. My back stiffened at the thought. There was no way I was allowing my father to send him away from me.

  Ashton set the phone on the bed. “Okay, sir, go ahead.”

  I glared down at the phone challengingly, waiting for him to say the words and for us to start the almighty argument that I knew would come once he tried to split us up. My dad cleared his throat. “Okay well, I have some news, I’ve just heard, it’s literally just happened,” he said, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words.

  “What, Dad? Spit it out,” I instructed, already exasperated with all of this pussyfooting around. Yes, it was probably wrong for Ashton and I to be involved because he was my guard, yes, we had probably gone about this the wrong way, but hadn’t my parents been telling me to let go of Jack and be happy for the last three and a half years?

  He sucked in a ragged breath before he spoke the words that I had never expected to hear in my life. “I’ve just been informed by the court that they’ve had to release Carter Thomas.”

  My breath caught in my throat as I registered his words. He was out? He couldn’t be. He’d killed Jack. I’d watched him do it. How could he have been released? The trial had only been going for two days.

  Ashton gasped. “What the? They released him? How? Why? When?”

  My dad sighed. “This morning, less than five minutes ago. They overturned his conviction. He’s been cleared of all charges. Apparently yesterday was a disaster. His lawyers ripped all the previous evidence to shreds, had crime scene experts come in and testify against their own colleagues. Apparently it was ruled that the DNA samples, fibres and fingerprints that they found on Jack’s body were collected incorrectly. There was a risk that they were contaminated, something to do with not using a sterile bag. Because there was a slight chance that they were contaminated, the Judge had no choice but to deem them all inadmissible,” my dad
explained.

  I closed my eyes. It was just too much to take in. The man who had killed Jack and tortured me for months on end, who had raped me repeatedly and beat me, was free. My husband. He was out. There was no justice. Jack was dead, and Carter, his murderer, was walking off scot-free. That wasn’t right; this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Tears stung my eyes.

  “Anna, are you okay?” Ashton’s hands cupped my face gently, forcing my head up so I had to look at him. His eyes were flashing with anger, but still managed to look at me tenderly, like I was the only girl in the world.

  I nodded awkwardly. “I didn’t even get called. Why didn’t they call me in to testify again?” I croaked.

  My dad answered that question. “Late yesterday afternoon, Carter’s lawyers also presented some new evidence. I’ve been told this morning that it was some kind of CCTV footage that was date stamped from that night. It showed him half way across town the night it happened. They even had an expert come in and verify it. Without the fibres and fingerprints, it would have been your word against his plus the CCTV footage. That wasn’t enough to continue with the trial. The Judge had no choice but to rule in his favour.” My dad sounded like he’d aged ten years in the last couple of minutes.

  Ashton made an angry growling sound in his throat. “What? How the hell can they do that? How the hell can there be CCTV footage?”

  I smiled at him sadly; he really had no idea who Carter was. “Carter can do whatever he wants. He has people everywhere; if there’s something he wants, he won’t stop until it’s his. These experts, they can be bought. Hell, he probably had someone in the police tamper with the evidence so it couldn’t be used,” I explained, shrugging.

  Ashton looked at me like I had lost my mind. “You’re saying that he paid someone to fabricate some CCTV of him across town to give him an alibi?” he asked, shocked.

  “Sure, why not. Hell, I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to get his conviction overthrown,” I replied matter-of-factly.

  He shook his head fiercely. “But what about the fact that Anna was there at his house? Doesn’t that prove what she’s saying is the truth? That he killed Jack and kidnapped her? How can they just dismiss that?” Ashton asked, glaring at the phone on the bed.

  I gulped. I knew the answer to that, and it was my fault. I hadn’t wanted to press charges; I refused to give any statements about what he did to me because I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. During the first trial, it was recorded that I refused to make a comment, and Carter’s lawyers claimed that I was there of my own free will, that we met, that it was pure coincidence, that I was drunk that night and confused. They made me out to be some kind of scorned girlfriend that was trying to pin something on Carter as some sort of payback for some undisclosed incident. They even had someone question my sanity. It wasn’t my evidence that secured the conviction; it was the fibres that they found on Jack’s body that put him away for murder. My evidence had just helped; it was never me that made a difference.

  “That was ruled last time as inconsequential. What he did to Annabelle was never brought into question, the fact that she was there was marked as coincidence, but it couldn’t be used against him,” my dad explained, skirting around the issue.

  “So that’s it, after everything he’s done, he gets to walk away?” Ashton growled. His hands tightened into fists. “You can’t do anything, sir? You’re the President, for goodness’ sake, you can’t let this happen!”

  “Son, you need to calm down. I hate this situation as much as you do, but just because I’m in a position of power doesn’t mean that I can break the law! If I force the issue then I’d be no better than he is. My whole campaign was based on truth and justice, I can’t very well force them to hold him if there’s no evidence,” my dad answered, his voice stern and final.

  Ashton sighed and closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair, his whole posture agitated and alert. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to suggest…” he trailed off, his hands still in tight fists, his knuckles white.

  “I know. Let’s just look to the matter in hand here, shall we?” my dad suggested.

  Ashton plopped down on the bed next to me and took my hand. “I won’t let him hurt you, I swear,” he told me fiercely, his jaw tight, his whole body tense.

  I smiled sadly. “He won’t hurt me, Ashton; he won’t have the slightest interest in me at all. All he’ll be worried about is getting his power back and showing people he’s back in charge. I wouldn’t be surprised if some big deal’s not being arranged as we speak,” I said honestly. If I knew Carter at all, he’d want to gain his respect back. Respect was always the most valuable thing to him.

  Ashton looked at me desperately before turning back to the phone. “Sir, surely it’s time now?”

  I raised one eyebrow in question.

  My dad sighed. “Yes, I guess it is,” he muttered. I looked up at Ashton, confused about the turn in the conversation. What was it time for? My dad groaned. “Annabelle, Carter’s been sending you letters every week since the time he was arrested.”

  Bile immediately rose in my throat. Carter was still interested in me? How? Why? And why the hell would they not tell me this?

  “I thought it best to keep it from you at first because you just weren’t coping, then I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you. You were so fragile,” my dad explained quickly, answering my unspoken question.

  I glanced up at Ashton’s guilt-stricken face and realised that he already knew about this. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. “This is why Ashton’s here, a SWAT guy. I finally get why he was assigned to me. Carter wants me dead, so you bring in a guy like Ashton to protect me. Now it makes sense,” I said, shaking my head, frowning as the reality of it sank in. I’d always wondered how on earth someone like Ashton could get stuck in a dead-end assignment like this one.

  “He doesn’t want you dead, Annabelle,” my dad said grimly.

  “Well what does he want?” I asked, confused.

  There was silence on the end of the phone for a few seconds and in those few seconds, I think my heart stopped beating. “He wants you back,” my dad answered quietly.

  I gasped and jumped out of bed. My body reacted of its own accord. My back slammed against the wall as my eyes darted around the room, suddenly afraid that he would jump out from some darkened corner. Memories of the rapes, the beatings, the isolation, the way he looked at me… all of it rushed back to me at once, making me dry heave. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide under the bed and never come out. He wanted me back…

  A heavy weight pressed me against the wall tightly. My numb brain came back to the present a little and I realised it was Ashton. He’d pinned me against the wall, his body pressing against mine. It was a protective pose.

  “Shh, it’s okay, shh,” he whispered, smoothing my hair away from my face. His hand gripped the back of my neck, guiding my head to his chest. I closed my eyes and listened to his heart, forcing myself to breathe in and out, in and out. My fingers dug into Ashton’s back, and I was sure to be hurting him, but I couldn’t let go.

  “You knew but didn’t tell me.” My voice was barely more than a whisper.

  His arms tightened around me as he pressed his cheek against the top of my head. “I wanted to, Baby Girl, I promise. It wasn’t my call,” he explained.

  My chin trembled as I pulled back, looking up into his eyes. I could see the truth in his words, this wasn’t his idea, this was my father’s half-assed idea of keeping me safe and shielding me from more harm. I took a deep breath. I needed to be strong now. The worry and apprehension on Ashton’s face was enough to make me realise that I needed to get a hold of myself and calm down for him.

  “I’m okay,” I lied, willing my shaking voice not to betray me.

  He backed away slowly; taking my hand and guiding me back over to the bed. As I sat down, I spotted his T-shirt in a pile on the floor, so I stooped to pick it up and pull it down over my head.
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  “Sir, are you still there?” Ashton asked, fiddling with the phone.

  “I’m here,” my father confirmed, his voice choked and strained.

  I sniffed and wiped my face, forcing myself to be strong as I looked down at the phone, wanting answers. “So, what was in these letters? Does he know where I am?” I asked.

  My father cleared his throat. “He knows what school you’re at. For the last couple of months, the letters have been sent to the college,” he said, sounding almost apologetic. “I’m sending four more guards over to your location, just to be on the safe side. They should be arriving within the hour. Agent Taylor, do you think you could organise them when they get there? Whatever you feel’s best, I’ve already instructed them to that effect.”

  “Yes, sir, of course,” Ashton confirmed in his business tone. He was already planning, I could tell by the look on his face.

  “Okay, well if I hear anything else, I’ll call straight away. If you need anything, call me anytime and Maddy will put you straight through,” my dad stated.

  “Yes, sir,” Ashton replied.

  “Annabelle, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but honestly we thought that this was in your best interests,” my dad said, sounding like he was asking for my approval.

  In all honesty, it probably was the best thing at the start; I wouldn’t have coped very well with that at all. But since Ashton, I could have been told. Maybe it would have helped me understand why he was always so strict and professional when we went out.

  “Now isn’t the time to start arguing over something that’s done. I understand why you didn’t tell me,” I admitted. “I’ll speak to you later, Dad,” I mumbled, not wanting to speak anymore.

  “Bye, Annabelle, Agent Taylor,” he replied as he cut off the phone. I glanced over to the love of my life. He was worried sick, his beautiful face was pale and showed the picture of concern.