When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

Ashton approached us with narrowed eyes.

A bullet whistled narrowly passed his head.

“Ashton, stay where you are if you want her to live,” Abe shouted. “Her life is far more valuable than yours. I’m not going to exchange you for her. It would be in your best interests if you allow us to leave, or I would not be able to promise that she won’t bleed to death.”

Ashton froze, his eyes locked on my arm and the ghastly pool of blood that had gathered on the ground.

“Let them pass!” he commanded his men as though it was an easy decision for him.

Joseph stared at him in surprise; he was prepared to capture Abe once and for all. “Mr. Fuller, this is our only chance to…”

“Let them pass!” Ashton repeated with his pained gaze on me.

Abe kept his grip tightly on me and walked towards a junction that led towards another path.

At the sight of Ashton lowering his gun, Abe cackled with delight.

He tossed me in the car with Danny at the wheel. He sped off as soon as the doors slammed shut.

Abe grinned down at me. His eyes were reduced to slits in his malice. “Ms. Stovall, much obliged to you for getting me out of that.”

I glared at him as fiercely as I could. The blood that I had lost was making me dizzy.

Abe laughed at my fury. “To Marshville!” he ordered Danny.

his mouth to speak but caught sight of the bloodstains upon my arm. He frowned and nodded without a

are still being followed!” Danny said, with

curled into a cruel sneer. “If Ashton enjoys my company so much, I’d say let him come. We can show him around the city if he

to

dizzy due to the excess loss of

several more rounds. He glanced back at

laying back with his eyes shut. At Danny’s remark, he cast a lazy glance toward me. “Are they still on our

think they’re gone.” Danny

said with

heading back to the villa,

before making sense

awoke, the white sheets that I lay

noticed was the pain in my arm which seemed to

back into

if I hadn’t had anything to drink

fell onto several glasses of water on the table next to me but I was unable to muster the strength to

out and grabbed a glass. I glanced up

into view. “Armond!” I cried, stunned. My throat seared with pain from the mere utterance of his

smile across his lips. “Would you like a

throat’s parched,”

and sat on my bed next to me. With his hands around my waist, he held me up and leaned

sensed my reluctance. “You’re not well. Don’t even think about it,”

with him. He held