Embers [Lashton]

Chapter 8

Luke's POV

"I don't give a flying fuck. I want that shipment in by Tuesday," my dad snaps into his phone.

My attention lingers at the toast on my plate. My fingers tremble slightly as I tear at it like a bird but never eat it.

Dad sternly discusses business on the phone and Lewis, our guard, is standing bored in the doorway.

It's hot in the house but I can't bring myself to talk off the sweatshirt draped over my arms. I know what's underneath and I know what everyone says about it. The whispers and taunts echo in my thoughts. A frown finds its way on my face as I push my full plate away from me. At the same time, my dad angrily gets out of his chair and begins pacing the kitchen.

Lewis looks at me with a concerned glance, but diverts his attention when Ashton strolls in. He's dressed in all black, his curly hair in tangles and eyes red. He moves over to my bag and transfers a completed paper into it. He smirks at me with a cocky grin, and I know he's about to make fun of me.

"Ready for school, Barbie?"

I sigh, feeling too heavy and low to snap at him.

Lewis hands me my bag, helping me get it on over my bulky cast. I force a smile to him and exit as my dad's loud voice booms through the house. He's dealing with his business, which means he won't pay mind to me.

We wander down hallways into the driveway in silence. My attention is glued to the cement.

"Get fucked too hard last night, Twink?" Ashton prods, opening his car door with a proud expression.

I shrug and climb into his rust machine. My head falls against the window and I close my eyes, heart slamming into chest. They're going to be back today and I have nothing. Ash can't be around forever, and he probably couldn't take all four of those guys.

"I know what's up," he starts again as he drives, "you lost your voice from too much deep throating."

I feel tears start to well up in my eyes, and desperately blink. It almost works until one slips down my cheek. I swipe at it instantly praying Ashton didn't see it. His expression softens before getting harsh again.

"Are you seriously fucking crying right now?"

I shake my head, but more tears fall.

"Jesus Christ, are you four?"

My chest compresses, tightening and cutting off my oxygen supply. I bury my face into my back pack and try to control my breathing again. My back rapidly rises and falls as I struggle to calm down.

Ashton flips on the stereo, and Blink-182 blares through the speakers and masks my sniffles and quiet pants. I try to regulate my breaths. In. Out. In. Out.

The more I try, the harder I panic, dread rising into my throat as we pull into the school parking lot. Drowning. My lungs are drowning in tears. My head is drowning in horrible insults. My eyes are drowning in judgmental glares.

I gasp loudly to return air back into my body but it fails. A hand finds its way onto the small of my back. I glance up in worry at the source. Ashton is staring at me in genuine concern. His hazel eyes are wide with worry.

He unbuckles both our seat belts and takes my face in his large hands.

"Can you talk to me, Luke? Tell me what's going on."

I shake my head, struggling as the world around me starts blurring. I'm frantically looking all around the car.

"Come on, with me. In," he raises my shoulders and inhales. I try to mimic his breathing patterns but fail.

"Out," he directs sharply, pushing my shoulders down as he exhales audibly. The forced relaxation of my arms opens up a small airway and I choppily breathe out.

"Good, Luke. Again."

Our eyes lock and I focus on the golden hazel, made more vivid by the tanned tint of his skin. There's so much behind them, something unreadable though I doubt anyone has tried. His walls are constantly up, and I realize how much I don't know about my bodyguard.

"There you go, Blondie," he smiles, letting go of my shoulders as my breathing slowly calms itself.

"H-how did you d-do that?" I ask, voice shaking as violently as I am.

"You were having an anxiety attack. My mom used to have them a lot," he says quietly. "Can you tell me what's wrong now?"

"I'm scared," the confession slips out before I can stop it, "they're going to be back. There's four of them, so you'll be outnumbered. I don't have their drugs. My dad doesn't let me anywhere near his products. And I hate being whispered about and made fun of for my scars. It just puts another target on my back and I'm so scared, Ashton."

He nods, "I won't let anyone hurt you if you trust me."

"How can I? All you do is make fun of me."

Guilt washes over his face and he glances down at the dash board.

"I just want friends. You always get mad about Calum, but no one else will even go near me. I'm sick of being alone everyday."

"Luke, you don't know Calum. He attacked one of my close friends yesterday," Ashton starts. My eyes widen. Calum hit someone? He never seemed like the violent type.

"H-he did?"

Ashton nods, opening the car door and slinging this bag over his shoulder. I follow in suit.

"But he seemed so nice," my thoughts tumble out into audible words before I can stop them.

"That's the thing, Princess. The ones who seem nice are the assholes, and the assholes are the nicest people."