Unable to resist, I bent over her and planted a soft kiss on the egg-shaped bump she had on her forehead. “Hi, Baby Girl. Are you feeling okay?”
“I have a stomach-ache,” she moaned, moving her hand to her stomach.
I quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her from touching her stomach in case she hurt herself. “That’s okay. They can give you something for it,” I assured her.
“Who can?” Finally, her eyes fluttered open. “Holy shit, Ashton! What the hell happened to your face?” she cried, looking at me horrified. I winced, she was right, I did look a mess.
I placed my hand on Anna’s shoulder, holding her in place as she tried to sit up. “Take it easy, Anna, I’m fine. Just stay lying down please, you’ll hurt yourself,” I instructed. Panic rose in my chest as I thought about her stitches breaking. The door opened and the doctor came in. I looked at them worriedly. “I don’t think she remembers anything,” I said, running my hand through my hair.
“Remember what? Ashton? What’s happening? What happened to your face?” Anna cried, ignoring everyone else in the room and holding her hand out for me.
I sighed. “Anna, Carter found you, do you remember?” I asked, gripping her hand tightly.
She gasped and closed her eyes. “Oh God,” she groaned, shaking her head as she obviously remembered. “Dean. Peter. They were all killed, they were all killed,” she whispered.
I sat on the edge of her bed and bent over her so my face was only inches from hers. “I know, Baby Girl. But it’s over now. I nearly lost you. Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me?” I rasped, dipping my head and capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She whimpered against my lips and her hand lifted, tangling into the back of my hair, holding my mouth to hers when I went to pull back. The kiss wasn’t exactly the chaste, sweet kiss that I had intended it to be in front of her parents.
When the kiss broke, she winced and hesitantly touched my cheek. “Are you alright? You were shot! And your face.”
“I’m alright. Stop worrying about me,” I scolded, shaking my head disapprovingly.
“I can’t. I never will,” she answered, smiling at me tenderly.
The doctor cleared her throat to make her presence known. “Hi, Anna, how are you feeling?” she asked softly, taking hold of Anna’s wrist and checking her pulse. I moved off the bed but Anna gripped my hand tightly as if she was frightened to let go.
“I’m fine. My stomach hurts, and my face is a bit sore,” she told the doctor, her worried eyes still locked on me. “Did you have someone look at you, Ashton?”
I nodded in confirmation.
“Well, are you alright?” she queried.
“Anna, I’ll talk to you in a bit, okay? Just let the doctor look at you, Baby Girl,” I pleaded. She sighed and finally turned her head to look at the doctor.
“We had to operate to stop the bleeding. Your spleen was damaged too, so we had to remove part of it. You lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a bit, but the surgery went very well. You need to rest now, no sudden movements, just try to relax and let your body recover,” the doctor explained, examining her stomach. Anna’s eyes widened at the news, almost as if she hadn’t realised she was that hurt. The doctor scribbled some notes on her chart. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be doing my rounds. I’ll get someone to come and give you something for the pain. If you get tired, Anna, sleep. And absolutely no getting out of bed,” she instructed before heading out of the room.
Anna’s parents cooed over her for a bit, hugging her carefully. Anna didn’t let go of my hand the whole time, it was as if she was scared to in case I would run away or something. There was not much chance of that happening though, I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Well, I think we should let you two have some time on your own. We’ll come back after dinner to see you again, honey,” Melissa said, kissing her daughter’s cheek. President Spencer kissed her and shook my hand as he left the room.
Once we were on our own Anna turned to me and her eyes filled with tears. “Come lie with me,” she whispered, trying to shift over for me but not really getting anywhere. I climbed on the bed, being careful not to show her that it hurt me to move, she didn’t need to know that. I lay down next to her, and we looked into each other’s eyes for a while before she spoke. “Are you really okay?” she asked, trailing her fingers over my face.
I nodded. “Yeah, Baby Girl. I have a couple of broken ribs and fingers, but other than that I’m fine.” None of that mattered though while I was looking into her eyes.
She groaned. “Stop being such a badass, Ashton! You were shot for goodness’ sake, don’t pretend like it doesn’t hurt,” she scolded, rolling her eyes at me.
I smiled, trying not to laugh at her little outburst; I honestly did love it when she was all feisty like that. “Alright, alright, it hurts, is that what you want to hear?” I confirmed. “But I don’t care as long as you’re safe and here with me.”
She smiled weakly. “You’re so damn sweet, Pretty Boy,” she whispered.
A tear slid down her face and I sighed, wiping it away gently. “Please don’t cry. Everything’s okay now, nothing’s going to hurt you ever again.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she muttered, finally losing control of her emotions and burying her face into my chest, sobbing.
I scoffed, stroking the back of her head. “Why on earth would you feel the need to thank me? Not only was it my job as your guard, it’s also my job as the guy who’s hopelessly in love with you.”
She gripped my shirt tightly as if I was going to run away. “You were so brave. You saved me.” Her body trembled so I held her tightly against me, waiting for her tears to subside. I didn’t need her gratitude, but I wasn’t going to say no to the hugs! “All those guards were killed. I can’t think what their families are going through. Oh God,” she mumbled, crying harder. My heart hurt because of how sad she was, and there was nothing I could do about it. She pulled back; her bloodshot watery eyes met mine. “Does it make me a horrible person that, deep down, I’m glad it was them and not you?” she croaked.
I sighed and shook my head slowly. “No, it doesn’t,” I assured her. I felt exactly the same. Of course, no one wanted anyone to die, but there would always be relief that it was someone else and not the one you loved. That was human nature. “Please don’t start trying to take the blame for their deaths. Carter Thomas and his men did this, not you.” I gritted my teeth when I said his name. The anger hadn’t subsided an inch, even though he was already gone.
She sniffed, wiping her face on the back of her hand. “There was no warning, there were so many of them. If you were there, you would have been killed too,” she muttered, clutching my shirt tightly. “I know I hurt you by sending you away, but I promise I was doing it for your own good. I didn’t want you to get hurt. The only reason I made you leave was because I love you so much. I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” she begged.
I cupped her face in my broken hands. “I understand why you did it, but you shouldn’t have sent me away from you. We should have worked through it together.” Her chin trembled as I spoke and her hand covered the back of mine on her cheek. “You don’t need my forgiveness though. Everything worked out in the end; however we got there.” I bent and kissed her lips. “But you don’t ever send me away again, understand? Because I won’t go. You’re stuck with me now.”
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 se
tting. 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.
~ Anna ~
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.
Blurring the Lines (Nothing Left to Lose, part 2) Page 28