“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.
Chapter Eighteen
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 i
n here, now!”
Someone’s here…
That was when I heard gunshots. I screamed and quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. Dean dialled his phone again, his eyes and gun both trained on the door to my bedroom. “It’s Agent Michaels. The jewel’s in trouble, send more people, now!” he growled as he snapped the phone shut quickly.
I couldn’t breathe. Silent tears were falling down my face as Dean positioned himself between me and the door, with his gun pointed there ready. I heard more shots and then the bedroom door swung open quickly, slamming against the wall. Dean let off a couple of shots and the intruder immediately jumped back against the door frame, out of sight.
My breathing was coming out in pants as panic made my head swim. I tried my hardest to count my heartbeats so that I didn’t have a panic attack. I needed to remain in control in case we needed to run or get out quickly.
“Put your gun down!” the guy ordered from outside the door. I whimpered, and Dean shushed me again. “Put your gun down, and you won’t get hurt,” the guy tried again. A cold trickle seemed to run down my back. I recognised that voice, I couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he had dark hair. He worked for Carter. “We have one of your agents. We don’t want to hurt him, but we will if we don’t get what we want. All we want is Anna,” he continued.
My blood ran cold in my veins. One of our agents? Oh God, please let us get out of this, please!
Hesitantly, Peter stepped into the doorway, looking terrified, his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ fashion. I immediately saw the reason for the pose. There was a gun to his head. His eyes found us immediately, his jaw tightened, and he seemed to be holding a silent conversation with Dean. I had no idea what the intense look on his face was; all I could see was panic and fear. The dark-haired guy stepped close behind him, using Peter’s body as a shield as they both stepped into the room. The gun pressed harder into Peter’s head, making him wince.
“Come on out, Anna,” the guy sang, his tone amused. “You don’t want him to get hurt now, do you?”
I didn’t know what to do. I was always told to stay behind the agent, keep quiet, don’t answer, stay small and alert and do as I was told. But that was Peter standing there. He was a friend of mine, and they had a gun to his head…
I whimpered, knowing that I couldn’t do as I was always told. I shifted and Dean clamped his hand around my wrist, holding me behind him tightly. “Please don’t hurt them, please!” I begged.
“Shh!” Dean ordered again.
The guy laughed quietly, sending a shiver down my spine as I recognised the laugh too, I definitely knew this guy. “I’m going to give you to the count of three to step away, Anna, or this one dies,” he instructed. I groaned, not knowing what to do. Dean’s grip tightened on my arm; it looked like he was trying to find a shot that wouldn’t hit Peter.
“One,” the guy called.
I shook my head. “Please don’t,” I begged. My heart was hammering in my chest.
“Two.”
I couldn’t let him hurt Peter, not because of me. Another person didn’t deserve to get hurt or killed because of me, I’d already gotten Jack killed, I couldn’t take another innocent life. I shoved off Dean’s hold and jumped out from behind him, holding my hands high. “Don’t hurt him, I’m here!” I cried desperately.
“No, Annabelle!” Dean shouted as he lunged for me again.
I saw the guy behind Peter smile as two others stepped through the doorway. I watched, seemingly in slow motion, as one raised a gun, pointing it in the direction of Dean. I realised too late what I’d done. I’d taken away his only leverage; with me out in the open, there was no reason for them to be lenient on him. The sound of the first gunshot echoed in my ears, it seemed to reverberate around the room, making my ears ring. I didn’t want to turn and look, but I couldn’t stop myself. I turned just in time to see Dean’s body slam back against the wall; the shot had hit him right in the face, leaving almost nothing recognisable behind. His blood stained the wall in an arc-shaped streak as his body slumped to the floor.
I heard screaming, and some part of my mind vaguely registered that it was me doing it, but I couldn’t stop. I fell to my knees and gripped my hands in my hair as I sobbed. Something moved near me, a kind of scuffle, I glanced up just in time for the second gunshot to go off. I whimpered and flinched as my heart broke. Peter’s eyes met mine for a second before he crumpled to the floor, clutching at his stomach as he groaned.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my body hitching with sobs. He made a strangled gurgling sound in response. His pain-filled, frightened eyes locked on mine. Before I could reach out and help him, a shadow fell over us both and another gunshot rang out, followed by another and another. Each time a bullet hit him, Peter’s body jerked slightly; by the time the fourth shot came, he didn’t even flinch.
“Well hello, Anna. Long time no see.”
I registered the voice, but I couldn’t respond. I was so scared that I couldn’t move. My muscles seemed to be made of rock. I couldn’t take my eyes off Peter’s body. He was dead because of me, and so was Dean. This was entirely my fault. Maybe if I hadn’t stepped away then they would still be alive. I thanked God silently that Ashton wasn’t here; I couldn’t see him get hurt. I knew I had made the right choice sending him away.
A hand closed over my elbow, hauling me to my feet. I swayed, my legs almost not supporting my weight. The only thing that kept me upright was the vice-like grip on my arm. I looked up from Peter’s dead lifeless body, to see Jimmy, one of Carter’s men. I remembered him from Miami. Jimmy didn’t like the way that Carter treated me and would always try to help me when he could, which wasn’t very often.
“Hi, Anna,” he said quietly, looking at me almost apologetically.
“Hi, Jimmy,” I choked out. Internally, I desperately fought for control of my emotions. If I had to do this on my own then I needed to snap out of this. I’d grieve later, but right now I needed to focus on trying to get out of here. I took a few deep, calming breaths.
Jimmy smiled sadly and dragged me out into the lounge. I swiped at my face quickly, wiping away the tears, trying to stay strong. “Watch her while I get her some clothes,” Jimmy instructed as he left me in the lounge. I looked around desperately, expecting to see Carter, but he wasn’t there. Instead, there were eight of his men. I knew all of their faces but only a couple of names. These guys weren’t like Jimmy, they were mean and heartless.
“Well, well, well, haven’t you grown up nice,” one of them purred. His eyes raked over me slowly, and my skin crawled. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I’d put on more than boy shorts and a tank top to sleep in last night.
One of the other guys quickly stepped forwards and punched him in the jaw. “Don’t look at her like that! If Carter saw that, you’d be dead,” he growled angrily.
I swallowed the bile that started to rise in my throat at the mention of Carter. “Are you going to kill me?” I asked, almost pleading for it.
The same guy that had thrown the punch smiled and shook his head. “No. Carter sent us to collect his wife,” he answered, smirking at me nastily.
“Is he here?” I asked, wringing my shaking hands.
The guy shook his head. “No, he wanted to be, but they’re keeping pretty close tabs on him. He sent us here instead. He’ll be along later, don’t worry.”
I groaned and dropped my eyes to the floor; I didn’t look up as Jimmy shoved a pair of jeans and a black top in my hands. “Get dressed. We need to leave,” he ordered.
I nodded at the guys all standing there watching me. “You really want me to change here, in front of everyone?” I asked sarcastically.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m sure you don’t have anything we haven’t seen before,” one guy mocked, sneering at me, looking like he was already taking my pyjamas off with his eyes.
I smiled sweetly. “Okay, it’s your funeral, I guess. When Carter finds out you all watched me undress he’s not
going to be best pleased. If that’s what you want…” I shrugged and reached down to grab the bottom of my tank top, starting to pull it up.
A collective gasp filled the room. “No, wait! You can get dressed in the bathroom,” a blond guy said quickly; his name was Lukas if I remembered correctly.
I smiled and followed him to the bathroom that was off the hall. There was a small window in this bathroom that led to the hallway at the front. I smiled and locked the door behind me, shrugging out of my clothes and putting the jeans and T-shirt on as quickly as possible. Once dressed, I boosted up on the sink and quietly pried the window open. I stuck my head out and saw there was no one there, so I boosted myself up and over, dropping down to the floor silently in my bare feet.
“Very clever,” Lukas stated from the front door, making me scream as I jumped about a mile into the air. He tossed a pair of sneakers at me. “Better put those on too, don’t want you to cut your feet,” he said sarcastically.
I frowned and pulled them on. There had to be something else; if there weren’t so many of them then I could have fought them. One of their guns would give me a chance, but would I actually be able to shoot someone like Ashton had taught me? I didn’t know the answer. Shooting a human being was miles apart from shooting a paper target.