Broken

• Chapter 53 •

"You can sleep in my bed!"

I smile at the little girl who's looking up at me with sparkling eyes. Ashton gives me a half-glance and carries my bag to his room, leaving me alone with his little sister.

"That's sweet, but I'll be okay. I can sleep on the couch," I tell her.

Her face falls in sadness, it squeezes at my heart. "But I can read you a bedtime story if you like?"

Her face lights up and she nods profusely, tugging at my arm. I laugh lightly and stumble to her room, where her twin Zach is fast asleep in his own bed. She motions for me to be quiet and shows me to a bookshelf, pulling out a copy of The Little Prince.

I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion. I was thinking more along the lines of a quick Little Red Riding Hood.

"How old are you?" I ponder as she climbs into her bed and pulls the bedspread up to her neck. "Eight."

"And you can read books like these?" my eyebrows are up to my hairline now.

She nods, "Ashton teaches us and reads to us every morning and every night," she states matter-of-factly.

Huh. It's strange enough to think that Ashton has some kind of mundane human emotion, but now I find out he's also a super-mom. That's cute.

I flip the book open and clear my throat, it's still painful and itchy.

"Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing," I point to the picture and glance towards Vanessa, who's studying my face.

"You're really pretty," she gushes.

I'm caught so off-guard that my eyes widen in surprise. An eight-year-old can make me blush. Now that's just embarrassing. I shake my head, "Oh, thank you. So are you," I give her a warm smile.

She beams at the compliment, a light pink spreads across her cheeks. I read to her until she falls asleep, and the question keeps tugging at my brain. Where the hell are their parents? Was Ashu serious about them ditching him?

I sigh and stand up from her bed, my legs wobble slightly and the room sways. I regain control of my body and smile down at her, she looks like an angel. I plant a quick kiss on her temple and tuck her in, turning to leave when I realize Ashton is staring at me from the doorway.

He has a strange expression on his face. I can't tell if he's angry, confused, or embarrassed. Do I just suck at reading people's emotions? He clears his throat and walks up to me, extending his hand to help me walk.

It would be great if you started cooperating, legs. This is embarrassing. I feel like an eighty-year-old.

I take his arm without complaint or resistance and he leads me to his room. "You can take the bed," he tells me.

I sit down on his bed and my eyebrows furrow. Do I really want to ask the next question?

I sigh and clear my throat, "Where are you sleeping?"

He looks at me and nods towards his big chair. It doesn't necessarily look uncomfortable, but it doesn't look comfortable either. Especially not for sleeping. Guilt pangs at my ribs, "Um, you can just take the couch or something."

He shakes his head, "Do you really want to be alone?"

I ponder this. To be honest, talking to Ashton and having him to be angry at for no reason is a distraction from my thoughts. A distraction from the images in my head. A distraction. The thought of being alone brings a new-found fear through my body. My mind begins panicking.

I press my lips into a thin line and slowly shake my head no.

He nods thoughtfully, "I know. I'll be here. Are you hungry?"

The thought of Ashton forcing me to eat oatmeal makes me want to gag, my eyes widen and I shake my head rapidly. He cocks his eyebrow and lets out the tiniest of laughs, which is more than I've seen and heard from him in days. My heart flutters just a little bit.