“Right, I forgot. I was raised better than that, but you know what? That daughter of yours died the day her boyfriend was murdered! The day everything went to shit, the day my whole f**king perfect life got turned upside down. I’m sorry that I’m not that person anymore, but I’m not going to suddenly get better just because I talked to a guy.” I took a deep breath before I continued my angry rant. “That girl you knew, she’s gone, and she’s not coming back. I wish you’d all get used to it and stop reading something out of nothing. This guy,” I pointed at Ashton, “he’ll be gone soon, just like all the others, and then you’ll be wondering what all the f**king fuss was about,” I growled, turning on my heel and walking out, leaving them all sitting there, staring after me with open mouths.

I stormed off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and making it rattle on its hinges. Throwing myself down on the bed, I buried my face into a pillow and screamed until my throat was hoarse. I hated that they assumed things that I could never give. I hated that they still expected me to suddenly get over it and move on. I couldn’t move on, and I didn’t even want to try.

After a little while my stomach growled angrily, obviously chastising me for not waiting until after dinner before making my scene. I sighed and shook my head before getting up and searching out my sketchpad and charcoal before settling on the floor.

Sometime later, there was a knock at my door. “Go away!” I shouted.

Without permission, the door opened and Ashton walked in, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, I know you said go away but I’ve got something for you.”

I scowled at the intrusion. “Unless it’s a bottle of vodka, I don’t want it.”

“It’s better than a bottle of vodka,” he replied.

My interest was now piqued. “Really, what is it?”

He smiled and sat down next to me, crossing his long legs. He brought his arm out from behind his back and plopped a plate down in front of me. I gasped when I saw what it was, my mouth already filling with saliva at the thought of it. Chocolate fudge cake.

“You should’ve stuck around, the food was good,” he teased, smiling at me.

I burst into a fit of embarrassed giggles. “I’m really sorry about that, I can’t believe they did that, and then I said – well, you heard what I said. I’m sorry,” I apologised, grimacing.

He shrugged easily. “Hey, it could have been worse; at least you said I was a good fuck.”

Another round of giggles escaped as my face flamed with heat. “Sorry,” I muttered when I regained control of myself.

“No probs. I thought your dad was gonna kill me though. The look on his face!” he winced, shaking his head but looking amused at the same time.

“What did they say about me when I left?” I asked, cutting a chunk off the cake he’d brought.

“Not much, it was a little awkward. They mostly apologised for jumping to conclusions. They mean well; they’re just worried about you. I think they’re hoping that you’re going to get better, that there’s some magical cure out there and that one day you’re going to wake up and be their little girl again.”

“I’m not that girl anymore,” I muttered, eating the last mouthful of cake.

“I know that. I think they got their hopes up though.”

I nodded. I knew they wanted a quick fix, but I needed them to understand that I was broken and that no amount of fixing would ever make me right. There was always going to be a piece missing. Ashton cleared his throat.

“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. What I did in the gym, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again. It’s just that you were upset and I wanted to comfort you. It just happened, that’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said uncomfortably.

“Let’s just forget it, okay?” I suggested, shrugging it off.

He smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” He looked down and gasped. “Holy crap, that’s awesome!” he cried suddenly, picking up my sketchpad.

I looked down too; I had no idea what I had drawn because I wasn’t really paying attention. I looked at the page. It was the deck on the lake with the little row boat tied to the side of it; Ashton was standing on the deck running a hand through his hair. I gulped, embarrassed that I’d drawn a picture of him, half naked, and he’d seen it.

“This is incredible. You’re really talented, Anna. You want to be an artist or something?” he asked with wide eyes.

I nodded. “Yeah I guess.”

He was staring at the picture in apparent awe. “I’ve never had anyone draw me before.”

“You can have it if you want,” I offered, shrugging.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah sure, why not,” I said dismissively, taking the sketchpad and tearing it out.

He took it, smiling gratefully. “How come you’re not in it?” he asked, looking down at it again.

I shrugged. “How could I be in it? That’s my point of view, I can’t see myself.”

He smiled. “Right yeah, didn’t think of that. I wish you were in it though, that’d make the picture better.”

“Of course it would because I’m so beautiful,” I joked, shaking my head in amusement.

“Yeah, that’s right. Anyway, I’d better get going to bed, it’s getting pretty late.” He pushed himself up and was almost at the door when I remembered the photo that he was using as a bookmark.

“Oh, Ashton, wait, I’ve got something for you.” I crawled over to my desk drawer and pulled out the photo frame and bookmark that I sorted out for him earlier so that he wouldn’t have to ruin his photo. “Here.” I plopped the two items into his hands.

He looked down at them for a long time but didn’t speak.

I winced. He doesn’t like the frame. “Sorry it’s a bit girly. You don’t have to use it, I just thought it’d keep your photo safe, it obviously means a lot to you for you to bring it with you, so…” I trailed off, wishing I hadn’t given it to him in the first place.

His green eyes met mine, seeming like he was struggling to understand something. “This is great. Really thoughtful. Thank you, I love it.”

“No problem,” I replied uncomfortably, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbled as he walked out of the door.

“Yeah, good night, and thanks for the cake,” I called, smiling gratefully. After changing into pyjama shorts and tank top, I climbed into bed, exhausted.

I’m sitting by the side of the pool. My arm aches. I look down at the enormous bruise that spreads across the top of my arm and covers my shoulder.

“There you are, Princess,” Carter says. My insides squirm as he sits down behind me on the lounge chair I’m stretched out on. “Mmm, you look good today,” he purrs, slipping his hand inside my bikini top to cup one of my breasts.

“Carter, please, my shoulder’s sore.”

He sighs dejectedly and pulls me back so I’m leaning against his chest. His other arm wraps around me, pinning me to him. “I love you, Princess,” he whispers in my ear.

Disgust washes over me and I struggle not to show it. “Love you too,” I choke out. I hate saying the words; each one feels like it rips my heart out. His arm tightens on me as he lets out a contented sigh and lies back to soak up the Miami sunshine. I take a deep breath, knowing this probably won’t end well, but I have to ask. “Carter, can I call my mom? It’s her birthday today. Please, baby?” I beg, closing my eyes.

His body stiffens and he pulls his hand out of my bikini top quickly. “Princess, for fuck’s sake, why do you have to ruin a perfectly good moment by talking about them? I’m your family now, they’re nothing to you! Why can’t you just be happy? I make you happy, don’t I? I give you everything, but you’re so f**king ungrateful!” he shouts, pushing me away from him and climbing off the sun lounger. His angry eyes latch onto mine and I try not to flinch.

I nod quickly. “You make me happy, of course. I just thought I could say happy birthday,” I reply quietly. Why, why did I do that? Why did I have to bring them up again? So stupid, Anna!

His face softens as he sighs and pushes me down on the sun lounger, climbing on top of me. “Tell me you love me again,” he purrs, dipping his head and kissing my neck.

“I love you,” I lie quickly, not missing a beat.

One of his hands pushes down inside my bikini bottoms, and I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re so hot, Princess,” he moans appreciatively. I close my eyes and turn my face away from his, not wanting to see him enjoy himself. “Tell me you’ve only ever loved me,” he instructs, tracing his tongue across the bruise on my shoulder.

My heart sinks as my blood seems to turn into ice in my veins. He is testing me again. “No,” I whisper. I won’t do that; I can’t do that to Jack.

His head snaps up, his eyes fill with rage. He looks so angry that I flinch. “Tell me you never loved him, Princess,” he growls through his teeth.

I shake my head sadly. “I can’t say that, Carter. I won’t,” I respond, knowing that he will beat me for it; he always does when I fail the test, but I can’t betray Jack like that. I hold my breath as he pulls his arm back and punches me full in the face.

I bolted upright, screaming. My breath was coming out in pants as I quickly put my head between my knees. Oh God, it was a dream! Just a dream. It’s over, I repeated over in my head.

My door slammed open and Ashton ran in with his gun and knife in his hands again, looking around my room. “You dreaming?” he asked, pointing his gun around my room. I nodded, and he visibly relaxed. “Shit! You need to stop doing this to yourself, I won’t let anyone hurt you, you have nothing to worry about,” he said fiercely.

He knelt down by the side of my bed, looking at me intently, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb across the back of it soothingly while I struggled to catch my breath.