15. Oli

15

OLI

I wake up sore and satisfied and desperately hungry.

There's a hollowness to my chest that doesn't feel awful, for once. Instead, I feel…lighter. Like Nikos was able to pierce my ribs and remove all the damaged parts of my heart that Geoff had stomped all over.

Seeing him last night was like a slow-motion wreck. I could tell that something awful was moments away from happening when I saw him out of the corner of my vision, and I was powerless to stop it. But then Nikos stood up for me, and I'd been a mess but I'd been a mess that someone cared about, the way that I'd always wanted Geoff to protect me.

It healed something in me that had broken. The idea that I'm not worthy of anyone standing up for me at all. That I'm worthless.

With Nikos, I feel like I'm worth everything. Even if this new inner worthiness has an expiry date.

It's half past seven when I get out of bed, leaving Nikos sleeping soundly where Geoff used to lie. It's so satisfying, looking at the way his golden-kissed skin contrasts against the sheets, more gorgeous and fit than my ex ever could hope to be. I throw on a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt and make my way down to the first level, starting to tidy up the place. We wrecked the house, which is exactly what I wanted. Living here has been like living with a ghost, Geoff haunting me at every turn. Now, every time I move to a new room, I have an image of Nikos instead.

Nikos grabbing my hair as he guides my mouth onto his cock.

Nikos between my legs, his tongue teasing my entrance.

Nikos holding me up against the window, so deep in me that I'm screaming his name.

Nikos and I in the shower, the water coursing over both of us, something far more dangerous than simple lust passing between us.

Make me yours.

My own words are echoing in my head as I pick up cushions from the couch and rearrange blankets, sweep up shards of the teakettle I always thought was fucking ugly that somehow got smashed to the floor. I grab cleaning spray and a cloth and start to clean all the surfaces we fucked on, removing streaks of cum and lube and picking up what seems like an infinite number of used condoms.

Nikos took his job seriously. He truly did fuck me in every room in the house. On every surface. It's the only time in my life I wished for a bigger house, because I would have begged him to keep going until I was so used I couldn't even speak.

But it's more than that. I want the illusion that I'm his. I want the illusion that he's made me his, that he's claimed me, that he's never, ever going to let me go.

I get to the bathroom off the kitchen, where we'd showered. I right the bottles of soap on the ledge, collect the used condom from where it's lying next to the drain, and then something glints in the corner of my eye.

Nikos' fancy watch is hidden between the toilet and the shower. It must have slid off and dropped into the crevice, and it's not easy to see. Almost like it was meant to be there.

It makes me sick, thinking of it. I'd put the caller's threats out of my mind after the shock of seeing Geoff, letting Nikos take over for the night. But here's a golden opportunity that I'd half intended when I'd told Nikos to get rid of his watch the night before so that it didn't get ruined in the shower.

It's fate, right? That it's so easy for me to take it and hide it in the bathroom cabinet, wedging it behind a box of plasters. If Nikos notices it there somehow, I can claim that I'd just put it there for safekeeping while cleaning. And if he doesn't, it's going to be even easier to do what the caller had asked me to. Even if he asks where it is, we can look for it on the bathroom floor and not find it. The toilet lid was open - I can convince him it had probably fallen right in.

His manager Selina will just have to fill out that insurance paperwork that he'd mentioned last night. I'm sure they've seen stranger claims than that.

My hands are shaking just a bit as I finish straightening up. I head back to the kitchen where I've stashed my phone. There's still no sign of Nikos - the poor man probably needs his rest after fucking me like a machine for hours last night - and so I open my email to see how bad the damage is after a whole night of not paying attention.

But what I see there is so much worse than a pile of work missives going unread.

It's an email from an address I don't recognise, a random string of numbers and letters that's clearly made up just for this email. The subject line is ‘Dirt.'

When I click it open, nausea seizing hold of me, I find a single line of text.

[email protected]

Now that I have more dirt on you and Nikos Ridge, that watch better be left for me today, otherwise these pictures are the ones that the world will see.

And underneath are dozens of pictures.

I go…totally blank.

My vision blacks out before coming back into focus, and I think that I'm going to pass out, or vomit, or both.

It's Nikos fucking me in every conceivable position. Grainy and taken up from on high, like they're from security cameras. Which they are.

My house is full of them.

The house has a top-of-the-line security system. There are cameras wired to look at every window, ever since we had a break-in a few years ago. I was the one to insist on it, because I was home alone so much. And fuck, there was no way that I was going to be able to take on a burglar, even if it was just stupid kids wandering around the posh parts of London looking for expensive electronics through left-open windows.

We'd gone all-out, every room connected to the system, so that at the push of a button on the wall or my phone the police would be called. Just in case, because it made me feel more secure. It took some of the anxiety away, too, of worrying that I'd left the door open or the fire going in the fireplace when we were out, the rare times the two of us went away over the years.

Well, now it had fucked me. And worse, it had fucked Nikos.

There is one other person who ever had access to this system, even though he's never once used it, to the best of my knowledge. I'd had to install the app on his phone, and when we'd been out together and I'd asked him to check the cameras to make sure I hadn't left the stove on, he would roll his eyes and tell me it was too hard to get into the app, with the two-level authentication. So I'd do it for him.

I changed the password when he left, I'm almost sure of it. But what if I didn't? What if he'd gotten into the system?

What if he was just waiting for the right time to use it to hurt me?

It all made a stupid, awful kind of sense. My ex, bitter and vicious because he thinks I was the one to fuck up his life. He always was good at that, putting blame on someone else. It's your fault I have to work so late, you have expensive taste. It's your fault that I had to go out with the guys without you, you're no fun. It's your fault I had to cheat on you, you're frigid in bed and it's like fucking a piece of wood for all you participate.

You know when all the puzzle pieces fit into place? Like cogs in a machine, clicking as they connect? I felt that now, the whole thing playing out in my head. Geoff, drunk and out of a job, maybe even on some of the "performance enhancing powders" he claimed everyone took at work, although I was sure it was just cocaine. Stalking me through the pictures I'd posted online through a burner account I hadn't noticed. Seeing that I was at the premier. Probably following me, trying to get a moment to pull me aside and berate me, maybe even publicly humiliate me so that he could ruin my job like I'd supposedly ruined his. Meeting in Aldi had seemed like a coincidence, but maybe it wasn't.

It hadn't been his voice on the other side of the phone, but he'd probably just used one of those voice warping apps, knowing that if I recognised him there was no way that I'd let him get more than two words out of his mouth before I hung up.

I should have realised when the caller mentioned my special place. I'd taken Geoff there, even though he didn't appreciate it. He'd just complained about the river smell and the fact that he didn't want to sit on the stone ledge in case he'd ruined his pants.

He hadn't treated it like it was a haven, the way Nikos had that night.

This is fine, I tell myself. I have the watch and I can give us an excuse to go walking by the Thames, if Nikos even wants to stay with me today. I didn't ask if he'd had any plans. If he doesn't, I'll head there myself.

I'm dizzy from the anxiety coursing through my system, but I keep telling myself that it's all going to be ok. It's just Geoff being a dickhead. I've got this under control. I know how to handle men like him. Nikos never, ever needs to know.

I swallow down bile as I go into the security app and quickly change the password. Then I go back to the email and wonder if I should delete it, or if it's potentially evidence in case Geoff doesn't quit and I need to involve the police.

The stairs creak, and I look up from my phone to see Nikos standing there, only wearing the boxer briefs he'd had on the previous night. He's practically glowing. I quickly swipe out of my email app and try my best to hide the guilty look on my face.

Geoff just wants this one thing. He just wants a fancy watch to sell to make up for losing his job, or he's just after a way to make me feel horrible and like he still has control over me even though we're no longer together.

That's all it is.

I'm not sure if I feel better or worse now that I've realised it must be Geoff behind this. On the one hand, it's better because I know how to deal with him. I'm going to leave him the watch with a note to fuck off, that he got one over on me and now we're finished for good. If this happens again, I'll call the police on him. On the other hand, it's worse because someone close to me is threatening Nikos. It's because of me that his privacy and his career are at risk.

‘What's wrong, Honey?' Nikos' brow crinkles in a way that makes me think I'm not being as good an actor as I thought.

I fan my face, because I'm actually hot. There's sweat on my forehead, which I wipe off with the sleeve of my hoodie. ‘I'm honestly just famished.' My voice is steadier than I thought it would be, and I mentally pat myself on the back. ‘I cleaned everything up, but I realised we didn't eat dinner last night, and now I feel a bit woozy.'

‘I'd make you tea… but I…' Adonis flickers his eyes towards the kitchen.

‘Broke it, yes.'

‘A new one is already on order, should be arriving in a couple of days.'

I lower my eyes. ‘Thank you.'

Nikos buys the lie, because he comes over to me and wraps me in his strong arms, bracing us against the countertop. At the feeling of his solid chest behind me, his chin on the top of my head, his arms bracketing me like iron bands, some of the peace comes back to my mind. Nikos has got me. I'm going to fix this. Nothing bad is going to happen.

‘Well,' he says, his voice rumbling in his chest and into my back. He puts his phone in front of us, and opens a delivery app. ‘I'm not very good at cooking, but I am good at hitting buttons.'

He orders us an obscene amount of food, and when it's done and he's checked that the ringer on his phone is on so we actually catch the delivery person this time, he picks me up and puts me on the counter, stepping in between my legs and staring into my eyes.

‘Are you ok?' He reaches up and brushes a curl out of my eyes. ‘After last night?'

He doesn't know, I remind myself. Everything's fine.

‘Yes,' I breathe, leaning forward so our foreheads are touching. ‘Thank you for standing up for me. You didn't need to do that.'

‘Always,' Nikos growls, his broad palm cupping the back of my head, holding me close. ‘And I did, and would again.'

I wish it was true. I feel like I'm going to cry, sitting there, because he's famous and gorgeous and rich and he's leaving. He's never been mine, no matter how he'd looked when we were fucking. No matter if I'd sworn that there was something else in his eyes beyond just passion.

There's never going to be anything else in his eyes when he looks at me. We're not going to have a lifetime of these mornings. This is just a little gift from the universe to get me back on my feet. A little test, to see if I can stand up to Geoff for good and make him get the fuck out of my life.

I don't correct Nikos, though. I just throw my arms around him, and let myself be held until breakfast comes, and Nikos unwinds my grip so that he can answer the door and keep indulging in our little fantasy, where we're together and eating breakfast and spending a quiet weekend with each other.

Even if the watch currently hidden in my bathroom cabinet tells a totally different story.