Guarding the Broken Read online

  He chuckled and pulled me into the room and up to the teacher. Ashton cleared his throat. “Mrs Donovan?”

  She turned and smiled, setting down her cup. “Good morning. You must be my new students,” she greeted.

  Ashton nodded, and I let my gaze rake over the class. Most of the students were girls and all of them were now eyeing my near guard with undisguised lust. One of them was staring with an open mouth. My back stiffened as panic set in. What if Ashton wanted to hook up with one of these girls? What if he started to like one of them and wanted to bring her back to the apartment? How was I going to cope with that? Jealous anger and resentment settled in the pit of my stomach, and I felt the frown tug at my forehead.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m Ashton, and this is my girlfriend, Anna.” He squeezed my hand so I looked up at him, seeing that he had one eyebrow raised in question.

  I shook my head quickly, not wanting him to know that my mind was running rampant and thinking up scenarios where he fell in love and I had to watch it happen. I definitely didn’t want him to know about the jealousy that was eating me up inside because of it.

  “You like Anna and not Annabelle?” the teacher inquired, her tone warm and welcoming.

  I turned and forced a smile. “Yeah, Anna is fine.” My parents were the only ones who had ever called me Annabelle.

  She nodded in acknowledgement and waved a bony hand towards two empty seats at the back of the classroom. “Take a seat, and then we can get started.” She clapped her hands and the whole room seemed to come to attention, ready to start the day, as Ashton and I wove to the empty seats at the back.

  By the time the class was finished, my stomach was hurting from all the giggling. When Ashton had said that he couldn’t draw, I hadn’t thought he meant that all he could muster up was barely more than stick people. My cheek muscles were aching from smiling and laughing so much. I’d never seen anything so terrible, and it was lucky we were sat at the back so that no one else could see and ask what the heck he was doing in an art class. The teacher turned out to be quite nice though, and I actually had fun in class which wasn’t something I was used to.

  As soon as the class ended, Ashton screwed up his paper into a ball and tossed it towards the trashcan, holding his hands up in celebration when it went straight in without touching the sides. “Three pointer,” he chirped, grinning. I chuckled at how childlike he was sometimes – it was incredibly cute.

  “Maybe you should stick to paper basketball instead of art,” I teased, shoving all of my stuff back into my bag.

  He nodded, taking my bag off of my shoulder and holding his other hand out to me. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re always hungry. I’m surprised you’re not as big as a house.” I’d definitely never seen anyone eat as much as he did.

  “I’ve got hollow legs,” he joked, leading me out of the classroom.

  I kept my head down as we made our way to the lunchroom. I’d promised him that I would try to integrate into the school and be more sociable, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for it today. After buying two plates of some disgusting-looking pasta and a wilted salad, I sat down at an empty table. Ashton sat opposite me, and I saw Dean in line to buy food too. I smiled. With him dressed in normal clothes instead of a suit, he blended in so much better. He actually passed as a mature student, and no one was batting an eyelid at him.

  The chair next to me scraped, so I looked up to see a guy sitting himself next to me. My back stiffened automatically as my hand tightened around the fork I was holding. A predatory smile crossed his face as he leered at me. “Hi, sexy, what’s your name?” he asked.

  “Well it’s not sexy, that’s for sure,” I scoffed.

  He grinned, opening his mouth to answer but before he could, Ashton leant forward over the table. “Her name is back the fuck off.” He was smiling politely, but the tightness around of his jaw and the hardness to his eyes showed that it wasn’t a friendly smile.

  The guy recoiled slightly before standing up and holding his hands up defensively. “Easy. I didn’t realise she was taken,” he shook his head, shifting nervously on his feet, clearly intimidated by Ashton, who had that menacing agent look back on his face again.

  “Right. Well, now you do. Why don’t you go back to your table and tell your boys that she’s taken too,” Ashton instructed, nodding at the table of guys that were all staring in our direction, watching their friend make his move on me.

  The guy smiled sheepishly before turning his attention back to me again, ignoring the obvious possessive vibe that Ashton was radiating. “If you ever ditch this loser, my name’s Colt,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Not planning on ditching the loser, Colt, sorry.” I looked at Ashton, seeing the angry expression on his face as he watched the guy strut back across the lunchroom to his friends. “Back the fuck off? Could you have been any ruder?” I muttered sarcastically.

  Ashton’s frown deepened. “What? I thought I was extremely polite.”

  I burst out laughing. “Extremely polite, yeah,” I choked out.

  “Well, what do you want me to say?” he countered.

  I shrugged, spearing some of my pasta with my fork. “Just try not to be so overprotective. I’m sure there’s a nicer way. Besides, there’s like ten of them over there. If they wanted to, they could kick your ass,” I said, glancing over to their table, noticing that actually there were twelve of them, but I didn’t bother correcting myself.

  Ashton sighed dramatically, faking hurt. “You doubt my skills.”

  “You could fight ten guys?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Sure. They’re college students who have probably never been in a real fight in their lives. I bet you could take at least five of them on your own,” he answered confidently.

  I smiled because he never seemed to doubt my ability. “Well, let’s not find out, I like our apartment, I don’t want to be kicked out of school just yet,” I suggested, grinning and eating my food while he laughed.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Tim and Rich bounding over, arms laden with food. “Hey, we’ve been looking for you. How’s your first day going?” Tim asked, smiling as he sat down next to me.

  “Yeah great, we’re making friends already,” I joked, making Ashton almost choke on his food.

  “Yeah? I’ll bet you are with those legs on display like that,” Rich flirted, grinning at me as he sat next to Ashton.

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Where’s everyone else?” I asked, mostly meaning Rosie. I’d gotten on remarkably well with her on Saturday night.

  Tim rolled his eyes. “They’re in the food line. Those damn girls take a ridiculous amount of time to choose a salad.”

  When the girls finally graced us with their presence, Monica was again flirting with Ashton but thankfully, the same as usual, he didn’t seem interested. Rosie and I chatted easily throughout the rest of lunch. She was extremely easy to get along with, and incredibly funny most of the time. Her smile was infectious.

  When lunch was over, Ashton and I made our way to Graphic Design, which was our afternoon class. I didn’t hold out much hope for Ashton in there though, he didn’t seem to be the artsy type so no doubt he would be doodling stick people and cars like he was all morning.

  I actually loved the class. We were given a week long project which we had to pair up to do, of course, I was paired with Ashton. We’d been given a slogan of a company that was rebranding, and we were to come up with a new design and company image to fit their needs. My teacher, Mr Wilson, informed the class that the designs would be sent on to the actual company and if they liked one then they could potentially use it.

  Throughout the class, Ashton was no help. Most of the time he’d sat there watching me with one of his iPod earphones in his ear, making stupid jokes with a goofy grin on his face. By the time the lesson finished, all I’d managed was a brainstorm of ideas because he’d been so distracting.

  I sighed happily as we steppe
d out of the building. In my year that I’d been trying to go to college, I’d never once enjoyed being there, until today. Ashton’s hand closed over mine as he nodded towards the car. I squeezed his hand in silent thanks because his presence seemed to be making everything easier for me. Maybe, just maybe, it will work out here.

  After a few hours at home, everything was getting on top of me again. Sitting around and watching TV was making me think too much. Sitting with Ashton, I couldn’t help but long to be closer to him. I wanted to snuggle against his side and let his heat envelope me. I wanted to press my lips against his and lose myself in the bliss of his kissing. But I knew I shouldn’t want those things at all. Guilt and shame were building up inside me because I felt disloyal to Jack for wanting things from another man that I promised would be his and his alone. Self-loathing was making me twitch in my seat. I needed a distraction and something that would make me think clearly again instead of lusting after my near guard.

  “Do you mind if I go to the gym for a bit?” I held my breath, hoping he would say I could go on my own. I needed a release, and I knew he would complain and tell me to take it easy if he came with me.

  He nodded immediately. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just get changed and call Dean.”

  My heart sank but deep down I knew he wouldn’t have let me go on my own anyway. I followed him into the bedroom, grabbing some sweatpants and a T-shirt before heading into the bathroom to change.

  Ten minutes later, we arrived at the gym with both Dean and Peter in tow. As soon as we were in, my eyes settled on the treadmill. My shoulders ached with tension as I shoved my bottle of water into the hole and tied my sneakers tighter before stepping on. As I fiddled with the buttons, turning it on to a gentle walk, my gaze flicked to Ashton. He’d chosen the rowing machine. My eyes seemed as if they were glued to him as I watched the muscles flex in his arms and legs. He’d removed his T-shirt so all of his glorious body was on display. Something deep down in my belly clenched as my mouth went dry. He looked beautiful.

  He looked up then and his eyes met mine. A small smile crossed his lips, and I forced myself to turn away and stop looking. I really needed to get a grip of myself and this lust that seemed to come out of nowhere and consume me, leaving me a quivering mess. It just wasn’t right that he could make me feel like this, I hated it.

  Shoving my iPod headphones into my ears, I took a deep breath and put my hand on the speed dial, slowly cranking it up until I was running as fast as my legs would carry me. I ran away from my problems and everything that was bad in my life, focussing only on the music and putting one leg in front of the other. I ran until I couldn’t even think about Ashton’s gorgeous body anymore – which took a surprising amount of time.

  Having no idea of time, I could have been running for either five minutes or five hours. All I knew was that my hands started to tingle and sweat was trickling down my back, making my T-shirt stick to me. As per my usual routine, I sped up for about another minute before slowing right down, barely able to breathe.

  Once I’d stopped, I slumped to the floor with my heart crashing in my ears. Knowing I was close to passing out, I put my head between my knees and took deep breaths through my nose as I squeezed my eyes shut. When my fingers finally stopped tingling and the acidic taste in my mouth started to subside, I flopped down onto my back and groaned.

  When I opened my eyes again, I noticed all three of my guards were staring down at me. Both Dean and Peter wore shocked expressions, but Ashton looked incredibly angry.

  I frowned, turning off my iPod as I pushed myself up to my feet, ignoring how my legs shook from the effort of supporting my weight.

  “You feel better now?” Ashton snapped.

  I snorted, frowning at him. “For goodness’ sake, this is why I wanted to come on my own! Don’t start giving me lectures on what’s good for my body,” I retorted, walking past him to the punch bag that was hanging in the corner of the room.

  “Anna, you can’t keep doing this! That was fucking ridiculous. You were running like that for almost thirty minutes, I’m surprised you’re not dead!” Ashton shouted.

  The anger in his voice made me slightly nervous, but I tried to ignore it as I slipped on some training gloves and started hitting the bag. I let out all of my frustration and annoyance. Each hit made my muscles in my arms ache. Just as I was about to throw another punch, a hand closed over my arm, pulling sharply so that I had to spin around. My eyes flicked up to Ashton’s face. He looked so angry that the frightened, little girl that I tried so hard to bury inside me surfaced immediately. I flinched, cowering away as I closed my eyes and waited for him to hit me.

  His hold on me ceased immediately, and nothing happened. Tentatively opening my eyes, I looked up at him, seeing a horrified, devastated expression on his face as he stepped away from me and shook his head in disbelief. “You actually think I would hit you?” he asked weakly.

  I winced, knowing that I’d offended him. “I… I… No, I just…” I looked at the floor, not wanting to admit that yes, just for a second, I thought he would hit me.

  “I would never do that, ever.” He stepped back again, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I can’t watch this anymore.”

  My mouth popped open in shock as he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving me with Dean and Peter. As the door slammed behind him, I jumped as a huge lump seemed to form in my throat. He left me. He promised he wouldn’t leave me… My heart immediately hurt in my chest as my stomach tightened. Deep down, I’d known it was only a matter of time before he left because everyone did eventually, I just hadn’t realised that it would happen so soon or so suddenly. I wasn’t even close to being prepared for it.

  I stared at the door, willing him to walk back in and shout at me some more, to tell me that I’d upset him but that he’d been hasty in deciding to leave. He didn’t come back though. My whole body seemed to go cold as my heart sank. My vision became a little blurry and I realised that I was about to cry. I swallowed my sobs and raised my chin as I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I refused to cry over another man.

  Knowing that Dean and Peter were still watching me and waiting for some sort of reaction, I forced the devastated feelings aside and turned back to the punch bag and hit and kicked it until I hurt all over from the effort. By the time I finished, my legs were wobbly and my fingers were numb.

  Dean and Peter were sitting on the chairs, waiting for me in silence. “I’m done,” I muttered, walking past them and not waiting for them to catch me up.

  The ominous silence continued as they walked me to my apartment. When I stepped through the front door, Dean followed me in and headed into the lounge while I went straight to the bathroom for a shower. He would be the one that would move in and take over as near guard until they found a replacement for Ashton. I couldn’t even bring myself to care about the fact that I didn’t want him here.

  The hot water of the shower did nothing to help the crushing feelings I had inside. I felt terrible, the loss of him was painful, and all I could see was his devastated face when he said that he would never hurt me. My insides were hurting, my head was throbbing, and my whole body was aching.

  When I got out of the shower, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and found one of his T-shirts that he’d left behind. I pressed it against my face, inhaling deeply. A little whimper left my lips because it still smelt like him. Needing the comfort, I slipped it on over my head and climbed into the bed, hugging myself tightly. Feeling cold and lonely, I cried for him until I fell asleep.

  “Come on, Princess, it’s fun, you’ll like it. I’ve played lots of times. Take the gun, take a deep breath and then pull the trigger,” Carter insists, waving the gun towards me again.

  My whole body is shaking as I wring my hands, ignoring the pain in my wrists caused by the deep cuts I’d made there the week before. I feel nauseous.

  Carter raises one eyebrow. “Come on, we’ll make a deal. You wanted to die last week; if you die, the
n you’ll be getting what you wanted. If I die, you then can go free, and if neither of us dies, then you’ll stay here with me. Forever,” he suggests, grinning wildly.

  Silent tears fall down my face as I look at the shiny, little silver gun balanced on the palm of his outstretched hand. “That’s not a deal! I don’t have a choice!” I cry.

  “You have a two in six chance of not being here with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he retorts sarcastically.

  “Please don’t make me do this, Carter. Please?” I beg. He sighs and moves the gun; using two fingers, he spins the cartridge.

  As I realise that this is my only way out, I silently pray that either I die or he does, because the alternative, staying here with him, doesn’t bear thinking about. Fear runs through my veins, causing my hands to shake violently. I watch as he pulls some kind of straw out of his pocket, bends towards the table and the line of white powder that I’d watched him make, and snorts it all before grinning at me wildly.

  Because I’ve not moved, he rolls his eyes and points the gun at his own temple. “I’ll go first,” he states, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

  I hold my breath. He smiles and winks at me as he pulls the trigger. Vomit rises in my throat, but nothing happens, the gun doesn’t go off. Overwhelmed, I turn to the side and am violently sick over the expensive-looking rug.

  He smiles at me tenderly, clearly planning on ignoring the fact that I’m still retching. “Well then, I guess the best you can hope for is that you die, Princess,” he states, shaking his head sadly. He holds the gun out to me again, nodding encouragingly. I raise a shaky hand, and whimper as my fingers close around the cool metal of the gun. Carter’s hand closes over mine as he guides the gun up under my chin. I swallow, feeling the hard metal pressed against my skin. “You can do it, Princess.” The tone of his voice is kind and loving; it doesn’t match the fact that he is making me pull a gun under my chin. I take a deep breath and pray for death. I don’t want to stay here. “Count to three,” he whispers.