Nothing Left to Lose (86 page)

My cell phone
was buzzing happily on the side, vibrating loudly against the wood
of my bedside unit. I ignored it, knowing it would be Ashton. He
had been calling me every five minutes since seven o’clock so I’d
switched my phone to silent. By the time I got out of the shower
and dressed, the phone had finally stopped ringing. I picked it up,
seeing twelve missed calls and eight new messages.

The calls were
all from him in a series of five minute intervals. Five of the
messages were from him too. The others were from Rosie, Serena and
Monica, all of them wishing me happy birthday. I opened the
messages from Ashton and took a deep breath before I read them:

1 - Happy
Birthday! I hope you have a good day. Please call me, I really need
to speak to you, today of all days. I love you x

2 - Anna,
please don’t do anything silly today, please? I love you.

3 - Please
answer your phone. I just need to hear your voice and know that
you’re okay, please?

4 - Anna,
you’re making me crazy! I know today is hard for you but you
promised me once you wouldn’t do anything silly on your birthday.
Please, Baby Girl, please?

5 - You’re
killing me, I swear. Please answer your damn phone! I miss you, I
need you, I love you x

My hands were
shaking. I felt sick. Knowing I couldn’t put off contact with him
today because of how worried he’d be, I sent him a quick reply
promising that I wouldn’t do anything silly and asking him to stop
calling and leave me alone.

I forced myself
to stop thinking about him. I knew he was hurting and that I was
causing him pain, but it needed to be done and he would never have
left if I’d just told him my reasons for wanting him transferred.
He would have been confident he could have protected me, and
himself, against Carter and his men, but he would have been wrong,
and I couldn’t take that chance with his life.

As I wandered
through the exquisite hallways and made my way to the dining room
for breakfast with my parents, I tried to ignore the guard that was
following behind me, matching his step with mine.

I didn’t really
want to eat this morning, but my parents had insisted we convene in
the morning to celebrate. They always had liked to make a fuss of
my birthday – that never changed, even after I did.

As I sat down
at the beautifully laid out table, my parents smiled warmly but
managed to look concerned at the same time. “Happy birthday,
Annabelle,” they both said, almost in unison.

I faked a
smile. “Thanks.” To distract myself from the fact that they were
watching me, I helped myself to some toast, spreading it liberally
with marmalade. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed to keep up the act
for them otherwise I’d never get any peace today.

Suddenly, my
mom jumped out of her chair and grabbed three presents off the
floor, handing them to me. “For you.”

“Thanks, you
didn’t need to get me anything.” I set them on the table and picked
up the top, beautifully wrapped, red box.

“Oh don’t be
silly, you’re twenty today, no longer a teenager,” my mom chirped,
looking at me proudly.

I eagerly tore
off the paper, finding a shoe box inside. On the side was printed
the words ‘Mary Shaun’ – the designer who had made my dress and
shoes for my father’s party. I grinned as I lifted the lid to see a
pair of electric blue shoes with a sparkly stiletto heel. They were
absolutely beautiful. I gasped.

“Oh wow, these
are gorgeous!” I gushed. They were almost as nice as the plum ones
I’d claimed to have lost after the party.

“I thought
you’d like them,” my mom agreed, smiling at me knowingly.

I smiled
gratefully. “Thank you, these are incredible.”

“Open the
others,” she instructed, nodding at them.

I grabbed the
next one and ripped it open to find a gorgeous gold watch. “Wow,
this is beautiful, thank you.”

I picked up the
last one. It was wrapped in different paper than the other two. I
smiled and ripped it open to reveal another shoe box. I smiled over
at my parents who were watching me intently. When I lifted the lid,
I’d expected another pair of gorgeous shoes; instead, my eyes
landed on a perfectly dried white rose with a green ribbon tied
around the stem, a bag of cola flavour fizzy candy, a small book
called ‘Graphic design and the meaning of colours and shapes’, and
a photo album. I frowned in confusion. This wasn’t the type of
thing my parents usually bought; usually it was all about the cost,
thought didn’t really come into the equation. I glanced over at my
mom, seeing her sad smile and concerned eyes. That was when it
dawned on me – this wasn’t from them, it was from Ashton. I should
have realised as soon as I saw the rose.

A lump had
suddenly formed in my throat, and I tried my best to swallow around
it. My hands shook as I picked up the photo album, flicking through
to the first page. A photo of me, Ashton, and his friends in LA. My
heart squeezed painfully. I thumbed through the rest quickly,
seeing that every page was filled with photos of me laughing, me
and Ashton together at school, at a bar, on vacation, or at my
dad’s party. In some we were joking around in the bed, holding it
at arm’s length, our faces filling the whole picture where we
couldn’t get it far enough away. I smiled and flicked to the last
page, there was a birthday card there. I couldn’t open it now, I
could already feel tears prickling my eyes so I snapped it shut and
put it back in the box.

“That was sent
here a couple of days ago. He asked for me to give it to you on
your birthday,” my dad said, regarding me curiously.

I nodded.
“Yeah, he’s very thoughtful,” I replied, trying not to let my
emotions bubble over. The sweetness of Ashton came flooding back to
me, almost making me burst into a fresh round of sobs, but I held
it in somehow.

“He’s been
calling like crazy this morning. He wants to make sure you’re okay,
what with the day and everything. Why don’t you give him a call?”
Dad suggested, as if it was that easy.

“I already
texted him this morning,” I said casually. I couldn’t talk about
him anymore, my insides were squirming, my eyes stinging with
tears. I decided to change the subject before I broke down in front
of my parents. “I think I’ll wear my new shoes today,” I smiled at
my mom, hoping she’d help me out a little. She did. As if knowing I
couldn’t cope with this heavy conversation, she started cooing
about the shoes and other things that she had seen that I might
like at the store. I just smiled and nodded along, grateful to be
talking about something other than Ashton.

Once the
breakfast was over, I headed up to my room and plopped down on the
bed, pulling over the box from Ashton. I took out the dried rose
and smiled as I put it on my bedside cabinet; it was perfectly
dried and still beautiful. I laughed as I grabbed the fizzy candy;
they were my favourites, he’d obviously remembered.

Lastly, I
picked up the photo album, hesitantly looking through the pictures
again, laughing at some of the funny ones where we were pulling
faces or fooling around. I ran my finger over his handsome, smiling
face. The pictures made me miss him even more, if that was
possible. I moaned when I got to one of him kissing me and holding
me tight. I would give anything for him to be here with me now.

When I got to
the last page, I pulled out the card and took a deep breath before
opening it. The front was fairly simple, it was a vase filled with
white roses on a farmhouse kitchen table. I smiled, thinking about
how long he must have been looking for the perfect card before he
found this one. I opened it to see his messy writing inside; it
wasn’t just a happy birthday message, he’d written me a letter
inside.

Anna,

I hope you
have a really great birthday, you deserve to. I didn’t know what to
get you, I didn’t know if you’d be allowed to go and do anything
because of the whole guard situation, otherwise I would have bought
you tickets for that show on Broadway that you wanted to go see,
that’s what I was planning on getting you before all this
happened.

So instead of
a bought gift, I’ve given you the next best thing. I’ve bundled all
of my happiest memories into this album for you. These are the best
things that ever happened to me and every single one of them
involved you. I know they didn’t mean the same to you as they did
me, but you looked so happy at the time.

Please give me
another chance. We can just be friends, please? I really miss you,
I hope you miss me too. Look at the album and remember how happy I
could make you. Please, Baby Girl.

I know today
is going to be really hard for you and I wish you would let me be
there for you, but I guess I can understand why you won’t. You once
promised me you wouldn’t do anything bad today, please, please,
please keep that promise Baby Girl, please. Your life means so much
to me and I can’t bear the thought of you hurting yourself.

Anyway, I
guess I’d better let you go and enjoy your birthday. I hope you’re
doing something fun.

Happy 20th
birthday, Anna.

It doesn’t
matter to me how many miles you put between us, I still love you
and I always will.

Ashton

xxx

P.s Nate and
the guys wish you happy birthday too x

I read the
letter three times; uncontrollable tears rolled down my face. My
heart was aching, my whole being just screaming for him. I flopped
back onto my bed and closed my eyes, hugging myself tightly. I
could picture every single one of those memories without the
photos, and they were the best things that had ever happened to me
too.

The rest of the
day passed as a blur. I hung out on my own a lot. My parents had
arranged a ‘special dinner’ as they called it, but essentially it
was just another dinner in the White House. They ate like this
every night, as far as I could tell. After dinner, I went to my
room and had a long bubble bath. I should have felt different
somehow, but to me it just felt like any other day. Another day
without Ashton.

When I finally
crept into my bed, I glanced at my phone to see I had another text
from Ashton. I sighed; he didn’t seem to be getting over me at all.
Maybe my idea of Nate and the boys helping him through wasn’t going
to work out the way I’d planned. Every message from him hurt worse
than the last because they just reminded me that he wasn’t here.
The texts somehow made the time pass slower; the minutes seemed to
drag between messages. My life blurred into one big, long,
horrible, Ashton-less day that was broken up by messages I received
from the love of my life.

I opened this
new one to see that it was him asking me to text him again because
he was worrying. The message had been sent while I was in the bath;
it was almost eleven in the evening now. I opened up a new message
and texted him back that I was fine and thanked him for the gift,
just so he would relax.

After I sent
it, I rolled over, trying to get comfortable. He didn’t text me
back, so I assumed maybe he was asleep, or working nights, or maybe
even that he just didn’t want to text me. The last thought hurt the
worst.

Six agonising
weeks had passed since I’d sent him away and, if anything, it only
got worse. The dreams that I had every night were terrible. Every
night I saw him die in front of me, and every night I would wake up
screaming and sweating, with my heart trying to break out of my
chest. Dean would look at me sympathetically, not knowing what to
say or do. He was doing a good job of being near guard, living in
the bedroom next door, but I preferred my own miserable company, so
I hid in my bedroom most of the time, only coming out for school or
meal times.

Ashton still
called and texted me every day. He sent me a bunch of white roses
every Friday morning with a little poem or limerick attached. He
sent me music for my iPod, books, chocolates and stuffed animals.
Every weekend I would get an emailed love letter, begging me to
reconsider, telling me how lost he was without me.

I knew that he
contacted Dean a lot too. Thankfully, I’d made a deal with Dean: he
wouldn’t tell Ashton how much I missed him, and in return, I would
behave and do everything he asked me to without question.

I was so
incredibly tired every day. Once I’d had the nightmare of Ashton
being killed, I refused to go back to sleep, so I had on average
about four hours sleep a night. I went to the gym twice a day and
threw myself back into my old training method of exercise until I
dropped. I wanted to be able to protect myself if Carter did come
after me. It was my hope that if he did, that this time I’d be able
to kill him. Then I’d be free to beg Ashton to forgive me for
pushing him away and ask him to give me another chance.

What with all
the exercise I did and the fighting training I’d received, I
thought I would be prepared for the day he would come for me again.
Unfortunately, I was wrong.

I was yanked
from my sleep by a loud bang in the hallway outside our apartment.
My heart leapt into my chest as Dean ran into my room and over to
my bed. His hands closed around my upper arms so tightly that I was
sure to have finger-shaped bruises there in a few hours. I squealed
as he pulled me from the bed, shoving me against the wall. My mouth
popped open, shocked at the abrupt wake up and the force he was
using. Wordlessly, he grabbed the heavy reading chair from the
corner of my room and dragged it over to me, placing it in front of
me as he grabbed my hand and made us both duck down behind it.

“Dean,
what’s-”

“Be quiet!” he
interjected. My eyes widened as he pulled out his cell phone,
frantically dialling someone. “Shit,” he hissed, before he tried
another number. This one must have connected as he spoke words that
sent a mortified chill down my spine. “Someone’s here. Get in here,
now!”