Nothing Left to Lose

“I can help you if you want,” he offered. “I don’t have that much to pack. If you have anything you want to put in with my stuff, you can.”

I smiled gratefully. He’d already told me that he had a selection of clothes waiting for him at the apartment. Apparently they were supplying him with appropriate clothing; all he’d had to do was tell them his sizes. I dreaded to think what kind of clothing they deemed ‘appropriate’ for college.

I pushed my door open. “Okay thanks. I’ll knock for you after I get back from dinner with my parents.” I was going to do my best to enjoy my dinner tonight. As of tomorrow I would be leaving – and having a chef certainly was one thing I missed while at school.

~ Ashton ~

After I’d eaten dinner with the other agents and the other staff they had at the house, I’d packed up my own clothes before she finally knocked on my door signalling she was finished eating with her parents. As I lay on her bed with my arm folded behind my head, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. She was just so incredible. I genuinely didn’t understand how there could be such a perfect creature like her in the world, and yet all those terrible things had happened to her.

My eyes were glued to her as she bent over, folding up her clothes. I could barely suppress my moan of desire for her. She obviously had no idea the effect she had on me, and I was pretty grateful of that fact. Clearly she needed a friend right now, so that was what I was planning on being for her. I’d do whatever it took to make her happy, even if this assignment ended up killing me. It was going to be incredibly hard on me to be so close, yet be so far away at the same time, but I could cope with it.

She turned and caught me looking straight at her, so I quickly flicked my eyes onto something else, knowing she was going to bitch me out about it. “You want to help me instead of just watching?” she teased, tossing a rucksack at me.

I laughed in relief. At least she didn’t realise I was perving on her. Pushing myself up from the bed, I turned to her art materials that she had piled on her dresser and started putting it into the bag. When I got to her sketchpad, I wanted so badly to look at it, but I didn’t know if she would want me to.

“Can I look through your drawings?” I asked hopefully.

She winced uncomfortably. “Um, okay. Some of them are a little… harsh.”

Harsh. What is that supposed to mean? I sat down on the chair and started flipping through the pad. My mouth dropped open in awe as I looked at her drawings. They were incredible: the lake, the house, a tree, a sunset, one of her mom. I could tell which ones she called harsh. They were actually quite disturbing; blood, death, knives and guns. The same man was drawn over and over, looking menacing and angry. I recognised him from the photo in her file, this was Carter.

“These are really great. What do you want to do when you finish school?” I asked, pushing the book into the bag.

“Well, I always wanted to be a graphic designer, but I’m not sure that’ll happen now. I’ll just be happy if I can graduate and finish my course,” she replied, looking a little sheepish.

I could feel my anger simmering just below the surface again. Carter had taken everything away from her. She just needed to get her confidence in people back though, that’s all, I could help her with that. I’d do whatever it took to get her life back on track again.

“Well, don’t give up on your dream, Anna. I’ll help you,” I promised, looking at her beautiful face.

She laughed quietly, and the sound made my heart beat faster. “You sound like Jack. He used to say things like that all the time.”

I decided to take that as a compliment. Jack sounded like a good guy from what I’d heard, and he was a damn lucky one too to have her love him so much. “Smart guy,” I commented, grinning.

I turned back to her stuff and picked up the sketch pad that she bought the other day when we went shopping. I flipped it open and on the first page was me again. I had to laugh at her portrayal of me. She obviously thought I was good-looking; I could tell by the way she seemed to skim over my flaws and drew me looking perfect, with not even a hair out of place.

“Do you like drawing me?” I asked, flipping the pad around so she could see what I was looking at.

“Sure, why not,” she replied, shrugging.

I frowned, trying to work out what that meant. Women were incredibly hard to read; I’d never really tried to understand one before. It was a lot harder than it looked. I flipped to the next page – it was Jack this time, I recognised him from the photo next to her bed. He was covered in blood and looked like he was in pain; the picture was a little horrifying.

I groaned and shook my head. “Why don’t you draw a nice picture of him, instead of this?” I asked, nodding down at the book. I didn’t want to show her the picture in case it upset her, suddenly being confronted with it.

She sighed, and her eyes dropped to the floor; her whole posture was sad and defeated. “It makes me too upset, so I don’t draw him anymore.”

“Anna, surely it’s harder for you to draw him like this,” I protested, silently wondering if she just liked being sad.

“You’d think so, huh?” She took the pad out of my hand and put it in the bag, indicating the end of the conversation.

I sighed, angry at myself. Way to go, Ashton, upset her again. Great job, ass**le! I reached out and put my finger under her chin, guiding her eyes up to meet mine. I needed to see her smile again, I hated that she was so sad all the time. “It’s okay to miss him. You should remember the nice times and try to forget the bad stuff. It’s not good for you,” I whispered.