9. Jessica
Jessica
As soon as I get home, I burst into the living room to find Freddie playing with his toy cars and Cynthia putting the finishing touches to her latest creation—a painting of David Beckham holding an ethereal teddy bear. Before she can say anything, I blurt: "Mum, I've got the most amazing news. Guess what? I just got paid for my latest modelling job and we now have all the money for your medical treatment!"
For a second, she appears too stunned to speak. Then she puts down her paintbrush and lets out an almighty shriek of joy. "Oh my God, darling, that's wonderful! I can't believe it. I have no words. Is this…is this really happening?"
"It is," I say, wiping away a tear. "You're going to Germany and you're going to get all the help you need to make you better, finally."
In a daze of joy, Cynthia grabs my hand, and then she grabs Freddie's, and we all dance around the room in a happy circle. It's such an emotional moment and makes everything I've been through worth it. To see the look of relief on my mother's face is the most beautiful thing in the world and I've never loved her more than I do right now.
After a whirlwind of jumping and prancing, we collapse to the floor in fits of laughter. Adding to the fun, Freddie rolls around on his back and pretends he's a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
Sitting up, I smooth back my hair and strike a more serious tone. "So Mum, how soon do you think you can travel? I'll need to know the dates so I can book your plane tickets and organise accommodation."
"Yes, of course," she smiles, pulling Freddie onto her knee and kissing his cheek. "I'll need to speak to Erin and get back to you, but it should be soon, I would think. Oh, I forgot to say, Erin has offered to accompany me to Frankfurt, isn't that brilliant?"
"Ah, that's great, so pleased for you," I say, flooded with relief to hear that Mum's best friend Erin will be travelling with her. This is good news because I didn't like the thought of her going out there alone and not having someone to support her. In an ideal world, I would have gone with her, but Freddie can't miss school and it's unlikely Brian would allow me to take that much time off work. Besides, I've known Erin my whole life and trust her implicitly. Plus, she was the one who first recommended the clinic to us in the first place and will more than likely help Mum complete all the paperwork and everything else needed to facilitate it.
"Wow, there's so much to think about," Cynthia says, massaging her temples. "I'll need to think about what to pack, check in with the housing office to make sure I'm up to date with the rent so you guys don't have any problems while I'm gone. Oh my gosh, I haven't been abroad in years, I'll need to check my passport is even in date! When I discussed it with Erin, she said we'll probably be out there for a month at least. That's how long the course of treatment takes apparently. Oh, Jess, do you think you and Freddie will be okay on your own for that length of time?"
"Mum, of course we will!" I say fiercely. "I'm nineteen for goodness' sake, a grown woman. That's the last thing you should be worried about. Listen, everything will be fine. I can look after the flat no problem, take Freddie to and from school, cook all the meals. I'm doing most of this already, so all that is left to do is speak to my boss Brian and move around a couple of shifts at work and everything will be sorted. Now please, can you get on the phone to Erin right now and tell me the date you guys are leaving so I can get onto booking those tickets."
"Okay, Little Miss Bossy," Cynthia jokes, giving a mock hand salute. "I'll get right onto it now." She hesitates, her gaze dropping down to my necklace. "Good gracious, Jess, where on earth did you get that lovely piece of jewellery? It's really quite extraordinary. I've never seen anything like it."
Heat colours my cheeks.
"What, you mean this?" I give a nervous laugh, my fingers playing absently with the sacred Egyptian artefact. "Oh, it's just a piece of costume jewellery I wore for the photoshoot. The director said I could keep it as a little memento for doing such a great job…" My voice trails off.
My mother's eyes narrow. "Are you sure it isn't real? That looks like real solid gold to me."
"No, I'm telling you, it's a fake. I mean, do you seriously think they would give me a priceless piece of Egyptian jewellery just to wear around the house? Not a chance." I laugh again but detect a hint of suspicion in Cynthia's gently probing stare.
"And that gorgeous green dress? Let me guess: another little ‘gift' from the photoshoot?"
"Yep," I nod eagerly. "That's right. Another little memento from the director."
"Tut, tut, the perks of being a top model, eh?" She rolls her eyes humorously and with relief, I can see that I'm off the hook for now. Carefully, she places Freddie back on the floor and gets to her feet. "Okay, let me go and make this phone call to Erin."
After she's left the room, I hastily take off the necklace and hide it under a pile of clothes at the bottom of my wardrobe for safe keeping. Then I fool around with my brother for a while, helping him to organise his precious coin collection into perfect symmetrical rows on the carpet. Half an hour later, my mother returns from the phone call to Erin and tells me that they plan to fly to Frankfurt on the 16th—a date in two weeks' time. Jubilant that I now have all the information I need to get things moving, I take a lukewarm bath (Freddie used up most of the hot water) and then change into something more comfortable—jeans and an old baggy T-shirt. The rest of the evening passes pleasantly in a flurry of board games, wild flamenco dancing and an indoor picnic of tuna sandwiches and Mr Kipling's fondant fancies on the living room floor. By the time Mum and Freddie turn in for the night, I realise I've managed to keep myself so busy, I've hardly had time to think about Alex.
But I would be lying if I said he'd been totally forgotten. How could he be? Since we parted just a few short hours ago, a subtle part of him is with me always, like darkness clinging to the edges of sunshine, drawing me back into a nightmarish fairy tale that is better best forgotten.
Nothing that happened in Claremont Hall seems real. Looking back on the events in that house while sitting eating dinner with my family, I find it hard to believe that Alex Kingswood even exists. His world seems so drastically different from my day-to-day reality, so horrifically obscure, it's a struggle to accept I did not dream it all. Or perhaps that's just wishful thinking on my part.
Lying on my bed after everyone else has gone to sleep, I stare up at the cracked ceiling and wonder why I'm so against starting a relationship with Alex. Personality wise, he has many traits I would love in a boyfriend: he's kind and witty, cultured, super intelligent and the sex…goddamn the sex is out of this world. But aside from the most obvious—his terrifying appearance—there's something else bothering me.
It's almost as if Alex has two sides to his personality; like he is two different people, a Jekyll and Hyde character. There's the sweet and tender side that I like very much, but also a dominant and dangerous side that I constantly feel trying to rise to the surface. It's the side of him that pressured me into agreeing to exchange sexual favours in return for the money, even after I told him I didn't want to. That's the part of him that scares me and the main reason I caution myself to tread very carefully. Then of course, there's that malevolent aura about him too…that strange sense of being in the presence of something otherworldly…I won't even go there trying to understand what that's all about.
Oh, and then there's the little matter of him potentially stalking me…
Jerking up from the bed, I grit my teeth as a violent ache suddenly shoots straight to my crotch. Fuck! Just thinking about Alex has triggered a chemical reaction and all at once, I'm soaked with feelings of uncontrollable lust. My whole body is on fire. Sparks of sexual desire ripple through my veins and my private parts feel in a constant state of arousal. What the heck is going on? Once more I fear for my sanity. It's like hidden hands are forcing me to get up and act on impulse to satisfy this wild burning from within.
Dazed and jittery, I stumble out of bed, make my way quietly up the dark corridor to the kitchen and switch on the lights. Opening the fridge, I rummage around frantically in search of something, anything I can use as a substitute.
A Coke bottle? Nope, too hard…
A banana? No, too squishy…
A bottle of ketchup? Not the right shape…
At last, I settle for a cucumber and hurriedly sneak it back to my bedroom, hoping and praying my mum doesn't find out what I'm up to. Throwing myself on the mattress, I peel down my soaking-wet knickers, spread my legs wide and insert the cucumber deep inside me. I gasp with delight at the cool, hard sensation and feverishly begin fingering my clit while pushing the makeshift dildo in and out of my wet hole to mimic Alex's mind-blowing thrusts.
Back and forth it goes, each potent hit taking me one step closer to orgasm. Shit, it feels so good to be filled up again. Thrashing my head against the damp pillow, I envisage his demonic face, his hot, muscular body, imagine sweat dripping down the sculpted contours of his abdomen and release a silent cry of ecstasy. The cucumber is not nearly substantial enough, nowhere near long enough or thick enough, but it will have to do. Before long, I bring myself to a warm, pleasing climax that is not nearly as good as what I've felt with Alex but enough to satisfy my needs—for now. Jesus, what has the man done to me? It's like I'm insatiable, like I'm addicted to him…or addicted to his cock. If this thing doesn't let up soon, then I am in deep, deep trouble.
The second I arrive at work the next day, Amina grabs my arm, drags me into the ladies' toilets and securely locks the door behind us. Her face is alive with excitement, and I swear I've never seen her so happy. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever seen her crack a genuine smile until now.
"What's going on? Why have you pulled me in here?"
"Where the hell have you been?" Amina hisses. "You're so bloody hard to get hold of these days. Didn't your mother tell you I tried calling you yesterday?"
"No," I say. "What's up? Has something happened?"
"Haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Oh my gosh, what planet are you on? You're really out of the loop, aren't you?" Grinning broadly, she snatches another glance at the locked door, then pulls me in so close I can feel her breath on my face. "You won't believe this. Guess what? Somebody burned down Georgina Wickham's house."
"What? No! Are you kidding?"
"Hold on, you need to hear the rest. So apparently, she had some wild party last Tuesday and some fucking legend threw a petrol bomb and set the whole place alight. How crazy is that?"
My mouth drops open. "Oh. My. God. I can't believe it. Was anybody…was anybody hurt?"
"Actually no. Neighbours called the fire brigade and they managed to get everyone out in time. By some miracle, almost everyone got out okay. Well, all except for Georgina…"
My heart skips a beat. "What happened to her? Is she…is she…?"
"Dead?" Amina shakes her head. "No, sadly the bitch will live, but one of her arms is severely burnt, hallelujah. Apparently, she's going to need a skin graft. How fucking crazy is that? Oh, and my trusted source tells me her parents went completely apeshit when they got back to find their house burnt down. She is in so much trouble right now, it's unreal."
"Do they know who did it?" I ask, trying not to let my voice shake.
"No. But now that you mention it, one of the neighbours did say they saw a suspicious black car in the vicinity just after the explosion. They didn't get the license plate or anything and to be fair, it could be completely unrelated."
A black car? Alex drives a black Range Rover. Please, please don't tell me he is behind this…
"Jess, are you okay? You look a bit sick."
"I-I'm fine. Just shocked, I guess. Wow, I can't believe anyone would do something like that."
She shoots me a look. "Oh, please! How many enemies does that bitch have? Nobody likes her. Half of south London can't stand her and would quite cheerfully hire a hitman to take her out. So it could have been anyone. It could have been her drug dealer. Who knows? All I know is, the girl liked to play with matches and she got herself burned. I want to high-five whoever did it. As far as I'm concerned, they did us all a favour. That evil cow has had this coming to her for years. Do you know how many kids' lives she destroyed in school? How many kids were made suicidal by her bullying? Maybe this experience will mellow her out and get her to reconsider being such a cold psychopathic bitch all the time. You never know, it could be the making of her…"
I nod my head absently. I can't hear a word she's saying. My insides feel like they are collapsing. Fuck! If Alex did do this, then I have got a serious problem on my hands. I admit to spending years fantasising about the many ways I'd like Georgina Wickham to die a slow and painful death, but now that she's finally got her comeuppance, I don't know how to feel about it.
Yes, the years of bullying were terrible and what she did to me recently was despicable. But committing arson…and attempted murder? That just takes things to a whole other level. And what about the other people at that party? Innocent people who might have been injured or even killed if things had turned out differently? What then? Whoever carried out the attack doesn't seem to have been concerned by this. They acted indiscriminately, not caring who else might have been hurt in the process.
Then I tell myself to calm down. Get a grip. How could it have been Alex? I mean, what possible motive would he have to do something like that? He doesn't have a clue Georgina and I are mortal enemies or about the miserable history we share from school. But then, with a sinking feeling, I recall Freddie first mentioned seeing the black Range Rover the same day Jack asked me out on the ‘date.' My brother had said the mysterious car followed us all the way home from school.
Is it possible that somehow, Alex was nearby when I was speaking to Jack, overheard my plans for the evening, and then followed me to the cinema, only to witness the humiliating trick Georgina pulled on me? It also seems oddly convenient that the arson attack happened the very day after, suggesting it was this that triggered it. Was burning down her parents' house an act of revenge on my behalf? It certainly seems plausible.
All I know is, only someone with a deeply unhinged mind would throw a petrol bomb and it makes me fear for my safety. And not only mine. I've got to think about my mum and Freddie's safety too. I can't believe how irresponsible and stupid I've been. How can I sleep peacefully knowing someone like that is out there lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce? Jesus, if this is the type of craziness Alex is capable of, then what on earth would happen if I ever tried to break up with him?
The more I think about it, the more stressed I become. It feels like I can't breathe, like the walls are closing in on me with nowhere to escape. It's time to face the facts. If Alex did do this, then it means I've started a relationship with a dangerous psychopath with an unhealthy obsession.
And I've got a date with him this coming Saturday. He's sending Hobbs to pick me up from my house. Christ on a bike. What the hell am I going to do?
"What are you girls doing in there?" Brian's gravelly voice outside the toilets snaps me from my stupor. "I don't pay you to stand around gossiping. We have customers to serve, now get your lazy arses back to work."
"Shit!" Amina whispers. "We've been rumbled. We'd better get outside." Rushing over to the basins, she turns on the taps and washes her hands. Then, pulling me by the arm, she unlocks the door and steps outside smiling sweetly to Brian, who doesn't look in the least bit amused.
"You're such a bad influence on Jess," he growls, pushing his thick rimmed glasses up his nose. "She was so good when she first started working here but now all your bad habits are rubbing off on her. If I ever catch you two skiving again, I'll dock it from your pay."
"Sorry, boss," she beams. "Got the message loud and clear. It won't happen again. Come on, Jess, let's go. Oh, and Brian?"
"What?"
"I think you might want to get those smoke alarms checked. I don't think they're working."
"How would you know? Wait. For crying out loud, you'd better not have been smoking in the toilets again."
"Just kidding! Jeez, you need to lighten up."
I feel nauseous, faint and on the brink of tears for the rest of the morning. Barely able to function, I leave Amina to deal with the customers, preferring to keep myself hidden away in the kitchen most of the time. I'm also beginning to get paranoid. Every couple of minutes, I steal a quick glance out the restaurant window in search of Alex's black Range Rover and sag with relief when I see no sign of it. It feels like he's constantly watching me, even when I know he isn't, and soon it gets so bad I lock myself in the toilets for ages just to get some peace.
Fuck, I've never been so scared in all my life. How on earth did I get myself into this situation and more importantly, how do I get out of it? There's no way I can go back to Claremont Hall on Saturday. No way can I endure another night of back-breaking sex with him. I can't be his girlfriend, I just can't. This isn't going to work, never in a million years. Somehow, I need to find a way to put an end to this madness once and for all. But how? It's highly unlikely Alex will go quietly.
By the time two-thirty comes and my shift is over, I've worked myself into such a state I can scarcely put one foot in front of the other. In a fog of anxiety, I grab my coat and bag and hurry out the diner, heading in the direction of Freddie's primary school. Everything is a blur. I can't think straight, can't see straight, like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Images of Georgina keep flashing up in my mind. I wonder just how badly she's been burnt. What must it have been like to be trapped in a burning building, fearing for your life? It must have been terrifying. And where was Jack when all this happened? Was he at the party too?
Jesus, my head is so messed up, I nearly get hit by a car because I'm not looking where I'm going. Alex Kingswood has completely highjacked my brain and it will be a miracle if I can get home in one piece. Finally, I reach the school gates and keep at a distance from the other parents, not wanting to engage in small talk today. Then the bell rings and the kids start piling out.
"Jess, Jess!" Freddie shouts, running into my arms dramatically. "Ollie's not speaking to me."
"Why not?" I ask, barely capable of stringing a coherent sentence. "Have the two of you fallen out again?"
"Yes," he replies. "Ollie says I keep copying everything he says. He says he's sick of it and now he doesn't want to be my friend anymore. Now he's friends with Charlie instead and I'm really, really sad."
"And is it true that you keep copying him?"
"Yes, but only because I like to learn new words. Ollie is so good at making up new words and that's the only reason I copy him. But now he doesn't want to be my friend anymore and won't sit next to me and won't play with me at lunchtime. I tried to give him a Kit-Kat to say sorry, but he doesn't want it."
"Well, if Ollie doesn't want to be your friend, then it's his loss not yours. Only be friends with people who want to be friends with you, darling. Tomorrow, play with some other children in your class, ignore him completely, and you never know, he might come crawling back."
"On his hands and knees?" Freddie says hopefully.
"On his hands and knees. Now hold my hand and stay alert. We need to cross the road."
Gingerly, I take my little brother's hand and, checking the coast is clear, cross the street before turning left to take a different route home.
"Why are we going this way? I don't want to go this way. I want to go through Ferndale Avenue so I can count all the tree numbers."
"I know you do, Kiddo," I say through clenched teeth. "But sometimes it's nice to go home a different way. It makes things more fun. Variety is the spice of life."
"Oh, all right then, but only if we can go through Ferndale Avenue tomorrow."
"Yep. No problem."
As Freddie continues to prattle on, I keep looking around us to check there's definitely no sign of Alex's Range Rover. The good news is that so far, he doesn't appear to be following us, but I still keep my wits about me as I can't afford to get complacent.
Once we get home safely, I double-check I've securely locked the front door and then discreetly check all the windows in every room are closed. I then spend the next couple of hours trying to behave as normally as I can for the sake of Freddie and my mother as I can't afford to arouse suspicion. Protecting them from danger is my number one priority, and I'll be damned if I allow them to get involved in this horrible mess.
At one point, as I stand in the kitchen stirring a steaming hot pan of mince in Ragu sauce, I ponder whether to call the police. Under normal circumstances, of course it would be the sane and sensible thing to do. I could tell them I suspect Alex is stalking me and tell them to investigate his whereabouts at the time of the fire at Georgina's house.
But then I would have to explain the circumstances under which we met. I would need to tell them that I have been working as an escort, that I sold sex for money (which I'm not entirely sure is legal) and the fact that I've accepted large sums of cash from Alex would only complicate matters. Plus, his family are rich—who are the police going to believe—the man who lives in a multi-million-pound mansion or the call girl from the council estate?
Worst of all, there's the possibility that Cynthia could find out everything, and goodness knows what that would do to her, especially as her health is so fragile. If she finds out the truth, she might even refuse to take the money and end up jeopardising everything I've worked so hard for. No, I decide, I can't involve the police. I'm in too deep and it's far too risky. Oh, sod it! What am I going to do? This is like an endless nightmare.
Then it happens. Sometime around seven pm, the house phone rings and after a briefly cordial exchange, my mum tells me that a man from Storm Models wants to speak to me. I freeze. The ground drops out from under me. No, no, no! What am I going to do?
Forcing a smile, I take the phone and cord from her and carry it into my bedroom to ensure I have complete privacy. Then, taking a deep, fortifying breath, I put the receiver to my ear.
"Hello?"
"I'm parked around the corner from your flats," Alex purrs, his voice as sweet as chocolate. "Come down so we can talk."
"Oh my God, what are you doing near my house?"
"I've been missing you like crazy. I need to see your face. Now please come down."
I blow air through my cheeks. "Why can't we just talk on the phone? Now is really not a good time for me to leave the house."
"Now, my beauty, I'll say this just once. Come downstairs to see me, or do you want me to knock on your front door and introduce myself to your family?"
My blood runs cold as I picture Cynthia's reaction to seeing Alex Kingswood on her doorstep. She'd probably have a heart attack.
"Okay, fine, you win," I snap. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be right down."
"Good girl. I'm parked on the corner of Bedford Terrace. See you soon."
Heart thumping, I put the phone down and return it to the hall. I wait a minute or two before poking my head into the living room, where Cynthia is reading a Rupert Bear annual with Freddie.
"Is everything okay?" she asks.
"Yeah, everything's great," I lie. "The agency just phoned to tell me about another job they want me to do next week."
"That's wonderful, Jess. It sounds as if you're in high demand."
"Yes, so it would seem." I swallow painfully. Freddie is staring at me with big, round eyes and I wonder what he's thinking. Probably knows his sister is lying through her teeth…
"Listen," I say, "I'm just going to pop to the shops to get some more butter. I think we've run out."
"Have we?" my mum frowns. "Can you get some more washing-up liquid while you're there? We're running low on that too."
"Sure, no worries. Okay, see you guys soon. Love you."
"Love you too."
Springing into action, I throw on my leather jacket and head out of the estate in the direction of Bedford Terrace, my limbs heavy with apprehension. I need this rendezvous with Alex like I need a bullet in the head, but what choice do I have? There's no way I want my family to see him and my secret be revealed. The potential fallout simply doesn't bear thinking about.
Five minutes later, I'm on Bedford Terrace and very quickly see a black Range Rover with tinted windows parked behind a white transit van. The windows are so dark it's impossible to see inside the vehicle, which is probably for the best. I don't want any of my neighbours snooping.
Nervously, I walk up to the passenger side, open the door and get in. As soon as I sit down, I'm hit by an uncontrollable wave of fear. Dressed in a long, black hooded cloaked, Alex is ten times more frightening in the flesh than I remembered. Somehow, seeing him again, in surroundings that are so familiar to me, makes everything a thousand times worse. It's like the bogeyman has stepped out from a nightmare into my reality and is now running riot over my comfort zone.
For what seems forever, Alex's demonic gaze burns into me, setting my skin on fire with its intensity. Weak with nerves, I keep my eyes fixed on the dashboard, not knowing what to say or where to look. Then finally, he breaks the ice.
"So, what's the news on your Mum? Do you know her travel dates?"
My head snaps up. "Yes, she's leaving for Frankfurt on the 16th."
"And how long will she be staying there for?"
"About a month. Oh, and she's taking her best friend Erin, so I'll need two of everything." I reach into my pocket and pass him a piece of paper containing all the relevant details required for the bookings.
"Okay, fine. I'll make the necessary arrangements for flights and accommodation in Frankfurt and get those delivered to you by recorded mail within the next couple of days."
"Thanks so much. I'm so grateful for all your generosity." I pause, trying to think up an escape plan. "Right, well now that's sorted, I guess I'd better be going. I've got to go and buy some butter and washing-up liquid from the shop."
"Wait. Don't go. Stay a bit longer." Alex slips his large, strong hand into mine and I realise it's no use. I'm not going anywhere.
"Honestly, I can't stay," I bleat. "My mum will be wondering where I am."
"I promise I won't keep you any longer than is necessary. I just want to talk to you for a while, is that so terrible?"
"No, I guess not."
"Now tell me, how is Cynthia doing?"
"She's great. She's looking forward to going to Germany and finally getting this all sorted."
"And what about you? How are you feeling about everything? Are you okay? Are you pleased she'll finally be getting the treatment she needs?"
"Yes, of course I'm happy…." I break off, suddenly emotional. "It's just…well, I just hope it's successful, you know? The treatment, I mean. I hope the doctors over there can make her well again. I love my mother so much and we've been living with this for so long now, I just hope…" My sentence dies. I find talking about this extremely hard.
With gentle tenderness, Alex squeezes my hand. His skin is warm and comforting. "Everything is going to be fine," he says. "Don't worry about a thing. I get a good feeling about this, and I'm positive your mother is going to be fine. Everything will work out so please, just try to stay calm. And if you ever need to talk about anything, just know that I'm here for you always."
"Thank you, that's so sweet of you," I say, wiping my nose with my sleeve. "And thank you again for all your help. You've been so good to me and my family. I won't ever forget it."
"Hey, that's what boyfriends are for. To lean on in times of trouble."
There's an awkward pause. Discreetly, I try to pull my hand away, but he won't let go.
"I've missed you more than words can say," Alex whispers. "I think about you constantly." He hesitates. "Have you been thinking about me too?"
"Yes," I reply truthfully. Psyching myself up, I decide it's time to drop the bomb. "Hey, listen, have you been following me? Freddie said he saw a black Range Rover following us and I just wondered…well, I just wanted to know if that was you."
"Yes, it was me," Alex says without missing a beat. "Does it bother you?"
"Um, yeah, it kind of does. I find stalking someone extremely creepy."
He chuckles darkly. "What you call creepy, I call caring. All right, so I followed you a couple of times, I admit it. I wanted to see where you lived, to be close to you, find out more about you. Is that so terrible? When a man finds such a precious jewel, why wouldn't he want to keep looking at it? You've got to remember I've been closed off from the world for so long, I'm not experienced when it comes to matters of the heart, so I'm still learning the ropes, trying to understand what is deemed to be acceptable."
I don't respond.
Jesus, he has such a way of putting things he makes being a stalker sound almost noble.
"The truth is I like you, Jessica," he continues. "I mean, really, really like you. I'm completely besotted, and that makes me want to be close to you all the time, that's all. Is that so wrong?"
"No, not really," I say, finding my voice at last. "But could you please stop the stalking? Honestly, it seriously creeps me out. I don't like the idea of being watched all the time."
"All right, fine. I'll stop following you if that's what you want. Sorry for ‘creeping you out.' It wasn't intentional. Anyway, we have our date Saturday night, so I'll just have to hold on until then. No more stalking my girlfriend. Happy now?"
"Yes, thank you." A smile spreads across my face. Wow, that was easy. Who'd have thought? Just ask your stalker to stop stalking you and Bob's your uncle. Problem solved. I'm still dying to broach the topic of Georgina and the arson attack, but something tells me that could be a step too far. I remind myself I still need to tread carefully as I'm not out of the woods yet. I don't want to risk upsetting him after the progress we've made.
"How much did you miss me?" Alex demands. "Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"
"Um…" I fall silent. Dammit, his aftershave smells so good.
"Don't deny it. I know you've been missing me, and I definitely know you've been missing my dick."
"Oh my God!" I shake my head, incredulous. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You must really think you're something."
"I bet you tried to find a substitute. What did you use to get yourself off? Let me guess: a bottle? A cucumber?"
"What!" Heat creeps up my neck and colours my cheeks. "I-I don't know what you're talking about, you pervert. A cucumber? What?!"
"I bet you feel like a part of you is missing without me inside you. I rocked your world, so you had to find a substitute for when I'm not around. You fucked yourself with a cucumber, didn't you, my beauty, but still it wasn't enough. You need the real thing and I promise to give it to you all night long on Saturday."
"Right, that's it. I'm gone. I don't want to hear any more of this filth."
Laughing, Alex finally releases me, and I make a desperate dive for the door.
"Remember my sweet, seven pm, Saturday. Make sure you're there when Hobbs comes to collect you. Don't forget. I'll be counting down the minutes until then."
"I won't forget," I mutter, slamming the door and brushing myself off. Holy fuck. Somebody shoot me now.