Chapter 34

I'm prayingfor at least one drama free evening when I head back from the store later, with fresh vegetables, ready for a stir fry. Josh's favourite. It'll give him a nice surprise when he gets back from his proposal, since he's usually the one with the chef's hat on. I've even picked up some organic ginger. Go me.

I'd call Mum for some pointers if I wasn't trying to lie low until they touch down on UK soil. The career revelation needs to be in person, right from my own mouth – but that isn't a thought for now, so I force it from my head.

Drama. Free. Evening.

That's what I'm after tonight.

I'll have to get the stir fry on quick, since Josh is due back from his proposal early. It's a relatively easy affair, just a couple who want some decent shared anal. Hardly a biggie.

My sense of normality is widening every day.

I reach the courtyard with a spring in my step. Garlic and ginger in the pan first, then chicken… that's what I'm thinking about as I reach the tower entrance, until a voice sounds out behind me.

"Ells!"

Jesus fucking Christ.

I take a deep breath before I turn and face Mr Megastar. I'd fold my arms if they weren't loaded with shopping bags, but I nearly drop them regardless.

He's dressed like he's an undercover gangster, trying to avoid some fictional paparazzi. He has a baseball cap on, pulled down so low that it's perched on his ridiculous oversized sunglasses. He's in a hoodie, sweatpants and training shoes. Great choice for around here.

Idiot.

I glance around the place in case people take him for a dealer and call the police.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing here? I've come for you. I've been waiting out here like a twat for nearly an hour."

I tip my head. "Oh, woe is me. My heart bleeds for you."

"Love is Life, and Life is Gone just went viral. Two mega hits now."

I remember that song. I've heard him sing it about eight thousand times.

I can't hold back the sarcasm. "Well done, you. I'd give you a round of applause, but I'm kinda busy right now."

I know he's raising his eyebrows, even through his mirrored lenses.

"When did this happen to you? He made you like this, didn't he? Josh, the arrogant tosser."

"Josh? The arrogant tosser?! That's rich. And what do you mean when did this happen to me?"

Connor puts his hands in his pockets, slouching like Mr Cool. He hasn't even bothered with a token bouquet this time.

"Your attitude. You're getting really trappy."

"My confidence, you mean. And let me think about it." I fake ponder. "Oh yeah, I got that when you finally fucked off and I found some. Nice job with Carly, by the way. Double whammy of being a cunt." I pause. "How do you know I even live here?"

"I found your address from Carly's phone, before we broke up."

"Sneaky bastard. You can add stalker to your repertoire." I turn towards the door. "Leave me alone, Connor. I mean it."

"Talking about phones," he says. "You might want to reconsider, since I've got my finger on the call button."

I hate the spite in his voice. Cocky shit.

"What call button?"

He holds up his phone screen to show me, and there it is, spelled out for me.

TED.

My fucking dad.

I drop my shopping bags, rushing towards him on a mission.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

His swagger comes back, his smirk making me grit my teeth, I'm that raging. He holds his phone above his head, taunting me.

"Ah, yeah, confidence," he says. "You must be so confident at being a hooker. You've clearly told your mum and dad all about your new job. I bet they can't wait to meet your male hooker boyfriend either. That's not confidence, Ella. That's shame."

"Think what you like, twat. It's none of your business."

I despise the twist in my guts. I'm not going to admit to the prick that I'm planning on telling them anyway. He doesn't deserve even a snippet of my justification.

"What next, then?" I ask him. "What do you want?"

"I want to come in. You can show me your posh new pad. I'm getting a better one, actually. In Mayfair."

"Go you. Whoopty doo."

I stare him out, his thumb still hovering over the call button. Cunt.

I've got one hell of a load of venom towards Connor already, but this cuts a whole new league. I have gritted teeth as I key in the door code and grab my shopping from the floor. He's still brandishing his phone like a weapon when he follows me in. I consider wrestling it off him when we're in the elevator together, out of signal, but what would be the point? He's got plenty of others at his disposal, and I know it.

I stomp along to the front door, making sure the door slams back in his face as he crosses the threshold. Then the wanker takes his sunglasses off and does a whistle as he spins.

"Nice. Didn't expect you'd like neon green, though. Guess that's your hooker boyfriend's influence. Like everything else."

I put my shopping on the kitchen counter. "Just spit it out. What's the next stage of your negotiations?"

I have to play strategy here. Mum and Dad's plane touches down in just over a week's time. I have to keep Connor at bay for eight days before I can face the music and reveal the truth myself.

"I'll offer you more money than you earn as a hooker," Connor tells me. "I can do that now."

I scoff. "I doubt it."

He props himself on an elbow right next to me, his phone still in his hand.

"How much do you earn?"

I meet his eyes. "My last proposal put almost a hundred grand in my bank account, if you must know."

I expect him to raise his brows in shock at least, but no, nothing.

"We both know I'm gonna hit it big time, so if you want to play big money, Ells, that's fine. I can handle it."

I look at the guy I was in love with, in his stupid baseball cap. The thought of touching him makes my skin crawl, and having him in this place. In my home.

"I don't want you to handle it. I want you to fuck off."

He sighs at me, like this really is some kind of negotiation.

"Give me a chance, then. Just a tiny one. I'll match your pay for one night."

I stare at him. "You want to use me as a hooker?"

"If I have to. One night, and we'll see how it goes."

I fold my arms, resisting the urge to stick my organic ginger where the sun doesn't shine.

"Come on, Ella. Seriously. Ten grand, for a single night. How's that sound?"

I laugh. "Is that all I'm worth to you? A minute ago you said you could handle big money."

"Twenty, then. You can't say no to that."

"I'm not for sale."

He laughs. "You are for fucking sale. That's what you do, remember?"

"Not to you, I'm not."

"Ok, call me fucking crazy, but I'll do it. One hundred fucking grand. For one night."

He still has his finger hovering over the fucking call button. It makes my heart pound. I don't want to see Dad's face on his screen. I don't want him asking Connor what the fuck is going on, and listening to him gloat as he tells them about me. Revealing that their sweet daughter became a whore for a living.

"I'm not joking, Ella. I've got more than enough in the bank. I've got sponsors galore, and a massive deal coming up. I'll switch out the call button for my banking app, quite happily," Connor says. "Just say the word and we can go fuck like we used to."

I feel so trapped, all for the sake of eight days… but seeing my parents in person will mean so much. It'll be so much better if I can tell them face to face. They'll be able to see the genuine emotion in my eyes. They'll see how happy I am for real.

Those eight days mean more than a hundred grand. But I wouldn't do it for any amount of money.

I put my shoulders back, stand tall and stare him straight on. My loser of an ex.

"You could offer me a million and I'd still tell you to go fuck yourself. So go on then, cunt. Press the call button."

I love the shock on his face, despite my racing heart.

"You'd rather me call your parents and tell them you're a whore AND turn down a hundred fucking grand than spend a night with me? We've spent THOUSANDS of nights together already. Are you for fucking real?"

"Yes, I'm for fucking real. So, do it, if you want to. Press the call button."

His ego looks so dented, like I've kicked him right in the nuts.

"Have you any idea how many women want to fuck me right now?"

"Go fuck one of them, then. I'm not interested." I gesture to his phone. "Go on, press call."

His thumb hovers. His eyes on mine.

"Do it!" I snap. "If that's what you want, then fucking do it! Kill EVERYTHING we ever had. Every single fucking memory. Every tiny remnant of respect left in my soul. You're already out of credit, but go on. Take some more." My torrent keeps going. "I'd rather eat my own shit than ever kiss you again. I'd rather expose myself for the whole fucking internet than give you the barest sight of me. So call Dad. Tell him whatever you want to tell him. However bad he feels about me, he's going to feel a damn load fucking worse about you holding me hostage."

Connor's eyes cut like blades. His thumb shakes, lingering next to Dad's name.

We're in a game of fucked up chess, and it's his move, but no matter what happens, he won't take my newfound crown of self-esteem. He won't topple the fucking Queen.

I stare at him, years of love and fury merging in a pit with no bounds. I can't believe he used to be the King on my chessboard. This piece of shit used to be the centre of my world.

I'm clutching the worktop in anger when the front door sounds.

"Ells, I'm back, and I've got a surprise for you," Josh says, and I scream inside. He appears in view, and he's got a massive bouquet of roses in one hand, and a bag of shopping in the other. I catch sight of vegetables as he drops the bag on the floor. Stir fry. He was planning on cooking stir fry for me.

Great minds think alike – and it's obvious he's thinking the same as me when he looks at the prick who broke his sister's heart and sung about his ex being a hooker.

"Get the fuck out," Josh says. "You've got until the count of three."

Connor looks flummoxed. Josh is bigger than him. Stronger than him. More fucking angry.

"One."

Connor holds up his phone. "Careful. I'll tell Ted just what you're like, you filthy fucker. Pimping out Ella like a cunt."

"Two."

"That's what you are, Josh. You're a fucking sicko. Ella should come back where she belongs."

"Three," Josh says. "And I'll tell you something." He steps up close to Connor, putting the bouquet on the side. "Ella belongs right here, at home, with me. I'm not her pimp. I'm her boyfriend." He looks at my ex like he's an utter piece of shit. "And you're not, so suck it up, prick, and get the fuck out of here."

Connor doesn't move, just stands there.

Is he going to press the call button? Is he?

"You had your chance," Josh says.

He yanks Connor's hood so fast it practically chokes him, then drags him to the front door as Connor swings back like a useless idiot. Josh doesn't give a toss about Connor's flailing punch attempts, just launches him right out into the hallway.

"You come back again, there won't be a countdown," he says. "Come anywhere near Ella again, or anywhere near Carly again, and you'll regret it. I'm not Ella's pimp, Connor. The people that employ us are a damn fucking sight more powerful than that. They'll castrate you happily, if they get to you before I do."

The power in Josh's words gives me shivers. I step out and see Connor lying on the floor like a wide-eyed worm and feel my own power rising.

Connor's shades and phone are still on the worktop, and I dash back for them. His screen still has my dad's name showing, but I don't care. He can call him if he wants to. More fool him.

I toss them out alongside him.

"You forgot these. Fuck off for good now, I'm getting bored with it."

I take my boyfriend's hand and give it a squeeze.

"Don't think this is over," the prick on the floor says.

But I don't care. He can threaten as much as he likes. I'll come through it. We'll come through it. Josh and I together, whatever it takes.

I'm kissing my boyfriend as I close the door on Connor, giving him the middle finger as it swings shut.