Embers [Lashton]

Chapter 7

*Ashton's POV*

I fucked up.

I shouldn't have lost track of him. I shouldn't have agreed to keep him company. I shouldn't have let him cuddle into me.

Soft snores escape his pretty lips and he looks so innocent. The bruise forming on his cheek bone just below the eye adds to his fragility. There's a matching one on his jaw. His oceanic eyes are lightly shut. The broken look in them when I first found him in the alley shattered my frozen heart.

He buries his face deeper into my chest and there's a flutter in my stomach. Oh, fuck no. I can't like him. I can't like the kid. He's my mission that I already messed up.

Suddenly, a figure throws open Luke's bedroom door. Instincts kick in and my arms tighten around the small, sleeping boy. Andrew Hemmings is in the doorway, red faced and veins jutting from his forehead like they could burst any moment. His expression softens for a split second upon seeing his son safe and sound.

"When he wakes up, we need to have a conversation."

I gulp down a wad of guilt, and nod as he closes the door.

That's it. I'm getting sacked on the first official day. And there's still the threat for tomorrow. They want drugs, that's why they kicked the shit out of him in the first place. Who even are they?

I groan loudly and Luke stirs, eyes blinking rapidly before they remain open. He peers up at me and shoots me a look of absolute confusion. I couldn't read if he was ecstatic or furious or both or neither.

"Did you write my paper yet?"

"No, you've only been asleep three hours."

"That's plenty of time."

I shoot him a glare, before mumbling, "I'll do it later tonight."

He gazes at me curiously, like a child at a fish tank.

"Are you good?" I ask, unwrapping my arms from around him.

"I'm good."

"Good."

"Yeah. Good."

A moment of awkward silences passes between us before I clear my throat and gesture towards his koala grip around me. He blushes bright red and withdraws his arms.

"Thanks," I grumble, before getting up and leaving his bedroom. Regretfully. I want to hold him forever and never let anyone hurt him and keep him sheltered with those damn fucking eyes.

But I can't. And I won't. I'm not going to be some fucking pussy for the boss's son.

I sneak down the stairs only to have Mr. Hemmings rush over to me and scream. "What in the fuck were you thinking?"

Now that Luke isn't near by, my built-in-calming agent is gone, and my anger flares instantaneously.

"It wasn't my fault!" I seethe, taking out my internal rage on him. "He fucking ran away from me because he got all pissy when I made him stop talking to some asshole."

"Don't lie to me," he snaps back, fists clenching and eerily glaring at me. Now I see why he's so good at his job. He's intimidating as shit, but I've never been one to back away.

"I'm not. Some guy at school was all up on him, so I broke it up and then Luke got all whiny and left me."

The room is silent, so I take it as a victory and continue, "So maybe you should give your son the fucking sex talk and teach him not to fall for anyone who bats an eye at him."

Mr. Hemmings clenches his jaw and glares at me, icy blue eyes narrowing. "If this fucking happens again, regardless of how or why, I will not hesitate to chop off your arm and shove it up your ass."

"With all due respect, sir," I fight back with a cocky sneer, "it seems your son is the one who likes having things shoved up his ass."

Mr. Hemmings goes beat red in the face and musters out the scariest tone I've ever heard in my entire life. "Get. out."

I nod, snatching my car keys out of my pocket and rushing out of the house. The door closes loudly behind me and I leap into my car, little blood stains dripped onto the seat.

My smirk fades to a frown as I remember whose it is. Luke has to be so terrified right now. And he's all alone.

I shake the thoughts away and drive back to the shabby apartment. It's crumbling and corroded, but no one bothers me. I park in the back lot before unlocking the inside.

When I open the door, Michael is dozing on the couch and our friend Trey is nursing his nose with an ice pack. His dark hair is sweaty and messy like he got into a tussle.

"What happened to you?" I ask.

"Those fucking jocks. That Calum kid and his friends cornered me, I don't know why he was on our side of town."

My fists clench and I tie my bloody bandana around my curls again.

"That kid's really pissing me off."

Michael snorts, "when do you ever interact with that prick?"

"He was trying to fuck the kid today."

"Who, Hemmings?"

I nod in response.

"So? Who cares? Like kudos, the kid's probably a tight-"

My head shoots up and cuts him off mid-sentence.

"Don't fucking talk about him like that," I say, trying to act disgusted though I'm actually livid. "I don't want that image in my head when I see him everyday."

"Oh, like you haven't already considered it?" Trey laughs, removing the ice pack. It reveals a very bruised and bloodied nose. Calum must've hit him hard. I'll have to hit him harder.

"I actually haven't. Never been one for twinks."

Michael chuckles and rises to his feet. He clambers into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of jack, tossing it at me. I catch it easily and unscrew the lid. I raise the bottle to my lips, the liquid burning like gasoline as it slides down my throat.

"So darling, how was work today?" Mike asks mockingly.

"Shitty. I was almost fired. And I mouthed off to the boss."

"Woah, you told off Hemmings? Drug lord Andrew Hemmings?"

He and Trey burst into laughter (partially alcohol-induced, I'm sure) and thump me on the back.

"Bro, you've got massive balls for pulling shit like that."

"Tell me about it."