Wrapped Around Your Finger (Sequel to Good Girls Gone Bad)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when I decided it was time for Ashton to get up. Since he was no longer in school, he seemed to think that life was all about sleeping all day. I had been doing absolutely nothing while he slept and my boredom was driving me to the brink of insanity. So I went into his room and threw my body on top of his. My sudden weight made him groan, only getting louder when I sat on his butt and began bouncing up and down.

“What do you want?” he moaned as I stepped across his body, “accidentally” stepping on his calf in the process, and opened his blinds.

“Remember when you forced me out of bed when I was on bed rest, took me on a date, got us in a minor car crash and triggered my labor?” I reminisced, my words getting him to turn slightly onto his side and squint at me with one eye.

I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I was pissed that he was still in bed and leaving me alone all day. All of my friends were in college except for him and Zoe. Michael wasn’t either, but I wasn’t about to ask him to hang out with me. And Zoe was at a wedding for her aunt, so Ash was my only choice. And he never did anything anyway. Kailyn was still in school, so she couldn’t hang out with him. I was his only choice too, so he was going to hang out with me.

“I remember age, stress and having twins were also a part of the reason you had an early labor.” He said in a gravelly voice, still laced with sleep.

“Yeah, yeah,” I laughed. “Anyway, I’m taking you out today. We’re going to the park. Come on, get up and get dressed.”

He groaned loudly into his pillow once again as I slid off the bed and pushed the covers off of him. His hair had gotten incredibly long over the past few months, so he pulled it back into a bun at the center of his head. I left the room so he could get dressed and loaded both of my babies into their stroller. They didn’t make too much of a fuss, thank God, and Ashton was quite fast coming upstairs. Once he was put his shoes on, we headed out the door. He tried convincing me that we should drive, but I insisted that we both needed the exercise and he eventually agreed, though he complained the entire walk to the park. There wasn’t much for us to talk about, considering that we spend the majority of our time in the house doing nothing. I wasn’t about to tell him about my night with Luke last week so we walked in a comfortable silence.

A half hour into our walk, I had to change both of the babies’ diapers and left Ashton by a water fountain. I went into the public bathroom and managed to change both their diapers without the other crying for too long. I was getting pretty good at this, considering Luke would only do it if I begged him too or was too busy to do it myself. He hated changing diapers, which was understandable, but I wished he would stop acting like such a child sometimes and just change his goddamn children’s diapers.

After they were both in clean diapers and back in their stroller, I wheeled them out to where Ashton was sitting. As I got closer, I saw him talking to a man with an incredibly pissed off expression. I couldn’t tell who he was talking to since his back was to me, but the vein in Ash’s neck looked like it was about to pop out and he was restraining himself from yelling. I stopped walking and decided to just watch for a minute, gauging the situation to see if I should just leave them to have at it or if I should interfere. After watching for two minutes, Ash seemed to notice he was being watched and looked over the guy’s shoulder, his eyes bugging out when he saw me staring. The man who he was talking to noticed his expression and turned his head to see what he was looking at. Then it was my turn to be surprised.

Ashton was talking to my father.

He had shaved off the beard he let grow in after my mom had died, cut his hair so it was now incredibly short, and had lost some weight, but there was no mistaking exactly who he was. We made eye contact for a solid thirty seconds before I turned around and walked away, pushing the stroller ahead of me like I was on a mission. I could hear multiple foot steps behind me, and I knew that it was Ashton and my dad, fighting one another to talk to me first. My dad was shouting my name, making a huge scene, trying to get me to stop and speak to him. People were beginning to stare so I lowered the blanket I had resting on the little umbrella on the stroller and covered them both with it so my dad couldn’t see them. If I had to speak to him, I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of being able to see his grandkids.

“What?” I snapped, as he came into my view. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.” He huffed. He had been running to try and catch up with me and was now out of breath.

Ashton was soon by my side, acting like a guard dog as his hand slid into mine. I held onto it tightly, my face becoming expressionless and cold. Ashton was in obviously better shape than my dad, not being the slightest bit out of breath whereas he was huffing and puffing in an effort to regain his breathing.

“You don’t have to talk to him, Dan.” Ashton assured me in a quiet voice, trying to make sure he couldn’t hear us.

“Yes, she does. I’m her father.” My dad barked, glaring at Ashton as if he were trying to turn him to ash. 

Ashton’s face hardened as well and he opened his mouth to speak, but I squeezed his hand tightly to get him to shut up. Then I looked at my dad. “You have five minutes. Then I leave.”

My dad took a deep breath before he spoke. “I went to rehab to deal with my alcoholism.” He started. I wasn’t even aware he got so bad that he categorized himself as an alcoholic. “So I want you and Rae to move back in with me.”

I looked at him as if he had just grown a third eye. “Are you fucking mental?” I asked in all seriousness. He looked shocked that I had not only swore, but wasn’t all but leaping at the chance to move in with him. “Neither of us are doing that.”

“What do you mean neither of you are doing that?” he questioned, his voice getting angry. “You’re my children, you don’t have a choice.”

“I do actually. I don’t belong to you and neither does Rae.” I stated, struggling to ignore the sound of one of the babies moving around in the stroller. “I’m eighteen years old. That means I’m legally an adult. I don’t need you anymore. Get over it.”

I tried to push the stroller away from him, completely down with him and what he had to say, but he stood directly in front of the stroller, not allowing us to pass.

“Yes, you do actually. Or at the very least, your sister does. I can get her to move back in with me at any time and soon enough you’ll come back too,”

I cut him off immediately. “No I won’t. And I’ll never have to again.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, seemingly amused. I was beginning to panic under the pressure. My little sister was not going to live with him. I don’t care if I hadn’t seen her in over a month, if I had anything to do with it, she was not living with him. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because,” I had to think of a lie quickly. I was never very good at thinking on my feet and regretted the words the minute they left my mouth. I managed to find my regret and panic under a smile though. “Because I’m getting married. And we decided that his parents are going to adopt Rae.”

Ashton’s head whipped over to stare at me, but I ignored him, keeping eye contact with my dad. His face was a mix of trying not to laugh and looking as though he had just been punched in the stomach. He fought that look rom his face, however, and forced out a laugh. “Are you? And who’s the lucky boy? Don’t tell me it’s him.” He gestured towards Ashton with his head and Ash looked mildly offended. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but I squeezed his hand once again to keep him quiet. He looked at me, his entire face desperately asking me what the hell I was doing, but I just smiled at him lightly. I prayed he was reading my mind and listening to me apologizing and trying to get him to trust me.

“It’s not.” I assured my father, looking back at him. He raised his eyebrow once again, silently asking me to tell him who I was “getting married” to. I took a deep breath before smiling at him. “It’s Luke. I’m marrying Luke Hemmings.”