Disgraceful

Chapter 9

Disclaimer!

Please be informed that these earlier chapters are samples and starting from 12 March I will remove the rest of the chapters published in Wattpad. (chapter 18 - 43/end) because I just signed a contract with a reading apps and my story is now available in a paid platform (G**dnovel).

For some readers who left complaints in the comment after discovering this, I understand your disappointment but please be respectful. No need to use offensive emojis and abusive language. Everyday writers on Wattpad are struggling to deliver good stories for readers, pouring all their hearts and efforts into it.

For all of you who has reached out to me politely, thank you very much. It's good to know there are still good people out there who appreciate aspired writers like me who's still struggling to make a living out of it. For you who choose to follow my story in paid program, I can't thank you enough. It means so much to me to be rewarded for my work.

For you who have just stumbled upon this chapter, now that you know this is a sample, you can decide whether to follow it or not. If you choose to continue reading, thank you. Know that you have helped and supported an aspired writer to grow and thrive. If you don't, it's OK and thank you for giving my story a chance.

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Sitting on a stool with his sketchbook folded open and settled in landscape position on the easel, Ashton listened to the light gentle wind breezing over the lake before his studio. He scribbled a few lines on the fine paper. He frowned when a sharp pain stung abruptly in the place he got severely injured. He dropped the pencil and looked down on his bandaged hand. He shouldn't force himself this instant. He had just been injured yesterday, and his wound was terrible. He should wait, at least until his hand recovered a bit.

He stared at the incomplete preliminaries on the sheet, took the pencil and started again. He knew he should wait, but he really needed to know, would he still be able to draw again as he was before. The thought of losing his drawing hand was dreadful. His wounded flesh was swollen and aching now, perhaps it had got infected. The doctor had given him the best treatment he could give along with some medicine. He could only hope that it would work for the best. He knew a man who lost his hand just because he accidentally hurt himself with some nails. The poor man's hand was amputated because the infection had spread pervasively.

A spasm of pain interrupted, so piercing his hand flinched and his pencil dropped to the ground.

Peering through from behind the bushes, Ava startled to see how bad his pain was. A surge of guilt and ache engulfed her, made her breathing hard. She was such an empty headed fool. If she didn't do the stupid thing last night, such a thing would not happen to him.

Somebody was watching him from a distance. He could feel it in an instant. He could always sensed her presence from the first time, as if something in her was calling out his name in silence. Last night he breathed in her subtle floral scent and it lingered long past they parted. This morning when it supposed to be gone, the faint smell still filled his nostrils. He expelled a breath in irritation.

"I know you are there."
He said without tearing away his gaze from the paper.
"Get out."

Ava choked and stepped back in shock. How come did he know she was here? She swore she didn't make a sound, and he didn't even see her. She glanced around quickly, considering to run away as fast as possible. She was safely hidden from his sight in the bushes. She could pretend she was never here.

"Get out this instant. Or should I come upon you?"
When his voice sounded cold and flat like this, it was the time he was most dangerous. She took a deep breath before stepping out of the bushes.