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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.”
