Broken Hearts

Chapter 4

I waited for about an hour and a half before they were finished. David walked out standing tall, proud, and triumphant. He must have hired the man. As they approached, I stood, and gave a quaint smile.

"Ashlyn, Mr. Parson will be stopping by his apartment, picking up his belongings and then moving into the house to be with you, to ensure your safety."

I hated the idea of being driven around, let alone by a stranger, but this was not up for debate either. David would be furious if I argued with him now. Rather than having a blow up in the middle of his lobby, I quietly nodded. He gave me a peck on the cheek before heading back behind those infamous doors. My eyes watched where he had disappeared for a few more seconds before turning to Justin.

"Ma'am, are you ready to leave?" He asked.

It threw me off guard for a moment. Many years have passed since someone asked me if I wanted to do something, especially a man.

"Please, if you ask that I call you Justin, I ask that you call me Ashlyn. We will be spending a great deal of time around one another. We might as well throw out the formalities now."

He gave me a grand smile. It made me slightly uncomfortable, but as to the reason why, I knew not. Justin motioned for me to follow him. I did so. We left out the side entrance, moved out through the parking garage, and headed towards his Black Mustang. My eyes lit up at seeing the beauty. I have always liked Mustangs. David tried several times to get me one, but considering I didn't drive that often, I saw no point in it sitting around and collecting dust.

Justin noticed the look on my face and laughed, "You like it?"

"It is beautiful!" I exclaimed. "This is what you will be driving me around in?"

"If it would make you happy, yes." I was startled for just a second at his words.

Instead of saying anything, I moved closer to the car. Reaching out, I gently touched the tips of my fingers to the side of the car. Running my fingers along the metal, it was soft. The black glistened where the sun met the paint. It was absolute perfection, just like that of his suit. Coming around the car, Justin opened the passenger seat for me. I took a seat delicately in the car, fearful I was going to break something. Folding my legs slightly, I placed my hands in my lap after buckling my seat belt. He gently shut the car door and quickly walked around to the driver's side. Gracefully, he glided into his chair and got the car started. It was loud, the sounds of the engine echoing off the walls. Rolling down the windows, I could feel the light breeze caress my skin as though it were my lover.

The whole way to his apartment, the car drove as thought it were on air rather than the chaotic streets of New York. He drove with ease and grace. Had it been me, I would have been as mad as the mad hatter in Alice in Wonderland two blocks away. Usually, anyone driving in this hellhole city makes me car sick. Justin, on the other hand, maintained a consistent speed and was gentle with the stop and go of traffic. It was a nice change of pace. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have him around. I could stop taking the train.

We arrived at a very tall building. It had to be 20 or more floors. It was obviously full of apartments. Justin went around and opened the car door for me. His hand was stretched out to me to allow me elegance in exiting the car.

Once he was sure I was sturdy, he let go and led me into the building. It was not what I expected, it was kind of dirty and the air was thick with the smell of smoke, trash... and was that mold? He led the way up the stairs, where the concrete was littered with trash, clothes, and homeless people sleeping.

I stayed close to him as we rounded the corner to head up towards the 3rd floor. As we were rounding the second corner, a man jumped out at us. Justin told him to leave us be. Shielding my body with his, he moved me in front of him, and we made it to the 3rd floor door. I could tell by the huge number 3 painted on the metal of the door. Justin moved around me, and opened the door, motioning for me to go forward.

"You do not have to open every door for me." It came out harsher than I had intended.

"As long as I work for you, I will open every door and window for you ma'am." I gave him a dirty look. He was messing with me.

We stopped at the door that had the numbers 305 on it. Justin pulled out his keys and quickly unlocked the door. There was a commotion coming from the end of the hall and the seriousness in his face made me worry.

Pulling me into the apartment, he quickly shut the door without a single sound.

"I'm sorry I had to bring you here. This is where I live. All I could really afford in New York." He quickly walked into the other room. I stood like a fool at the front door and just looked around.

It was a small living room which housed a recliner in the corner, a small box tv which sat on top of what was obviously his dresser, and there was a small TV tray placed next to the recliner. The kitchen was open and there was a small sink, stove, and fridge stashed away in the small area. There was a dish in the sink and a small clock on the counter.

Looking around, I could see he lived a very minimal life. Which was probably in his favor. He was going to be quite surprised when he saw our house. We could fit 100 of his apartments in our house, if not more.

I could hear shouting outside the door. Looking back, I saw that Justin had locked the deadbolt and the bar. I couldn't help the frown that crossed my face. It was so sad that he had to live here. We live a more lavish lifestyle than most and I always try to remain humble. It was a bit chilly in his apartment and I rubbed my arms to try and warm them up.

He came walking out of the room adjacent to where I was standing. All he had was a small hiking backpack that looked full.

"I can call and have your furniture moved to the house." I offered, still feeling weird about the situation.

"Thank you, but all the furniture came with the place. Everything in this bag is what I own." He gave me a shy smile.

Rather than making things more awkward, I moved aside so he could get to the front door. Before opening, he looked through the peephole. Then he carefully unlocked the door and peaked out before motioning for me to follow him.

The trek back down the stairs was much less eventful than the way up. The homeless people didn't even bat an eye at us when we came back. My nerves were on edge, I was sure that they were going to try and steal his backpack.