Rising Star (6 page)

Chapter
9

Once I’ve made the decision to be honest with Adam, I feel as though a weight has been lifted.

Granted, I’m worried. I have no idea how he’ll take my concerns. He might decide our relationship is too risky.

At least I’ll know one way or another
, I tell myself.
That’s better than waiting.

Even so, I’m not looking forward to actually telling him. I play with my phone nervously as I arrive back at the house.

I’ll spend an hour composing
, I decide, trying to quell the nerves in my stomach.
Then I’ll be calm when I tell him
.

The house is completely empty as I walk into the hallway. I guess the other collaborations are enjoying a drink in the pub too.

Part of me would like to be with them, enjoying that carefree world. But I’m glad I have some time to work on our song too. The more work I put in, the better the result will be.

My notebook is up in my room, so I bound up the stairs to get it. But as I reach the landing, I have a weird feeling. Like something is really wrong.

It’s just pre-phone call nerves
, I tell myself.
You’re anxious about calling Adam.

I turn the handle of the bedroom, and open the door.

My notebook is on the floor. In tatters.

I stare down at the ripped pages, scattering the floor.

What in the…? Did Scandelous do this?

I move towards the torn pages, feeling very, very uneasy. First the boat. Now someone is destroying my property.

Dez. Is it Dez?

But somehow I can’t believe it. He’s out of my life. How would he even get in?

I suddenly feel very alone in the empty house. It’s just me in here. I’m completely vulnerable.

I kneel to pick up the tattered remains of my notebook. My mouth twists, as I stare at the dismembered pages.

Someone has done a good job of tearing this up.

Suddenly there’s a voice behind me.

“Hello Summer.”

The voice is more accented than I remember it. Die-hard south London, straight from the streets.

I force my eyes upwards, but I can’t stop the tremble in my body when they light on the figure.

Slowly I force myself to stand.

“Dez,” I hear my voice come flat and cold.

My heart is in my mouth. His face is so familiar. It brings back all the old feelings of fear.

How did he get in here?

Dez could be called handsome. Though a deep scar disfigures him beneath his chin. And his black eyes have a weasel-like quality. Always searching for what advantage can be gained.

But today he looks different to how I remember. His eyes are bloodshot, and watery. His nose is red raw at the edges, and his skin looks yellowed and pale. My first thought is he’s gotten seriously into drugs since I last saw him.

Dez always dabbled socially – a habit I was too naïve to catch on to until just before we broke up. But now he looks terrible. Like a real junkie.

“How did you get in here?” I accuse, feeling a jolt of panic to see him like this.

Dez grins widely, revealing the single gold tooth far back in his jaw.

“Haven’t I told you before Summer? London is my manor. I can find you wherever you go.”

You didn’t find me before
, I think defiantly.
You had to wait for me to be on live TV.

But I keep the words to myself. I know from experience that anything can provoke Dez’s temper. And I’m far too frightened by the fact he managed to get inside.

Dez takes a step towards me, and I flinch.

“Summer, Summer, Summer,” he says sadly. “What am I going to do with you?”

I stare back at him defiantly, refusing to answer.

I left you once before. I’m not that girl anymore.

Dez moves a little closer. He’s wiry rather than muscular, but he’s tall, towering over my slight frame. And physical threat pours off him.

He sniffs loudly, and passes a hand under his nose.

He’s been taking cocaine recently. Or worse.

The realisation fills me with greater fear.

Dez reaches out, and runs a hand along my jaw.

I’m frozen with terror and disgust. I can’t believe I ever let this man touch me. The idea of it repulses me.

But back when I met Dez… He wasn’t like this. Drugs have sunk him.

“Get out,” I whisper. “You can’t be in this house.”

I’m appalled at how easily I’m immobilised with fear. When I left Dez, I felt strong. How has he reduced me to a frightened little girl?

I mentally scream at myself to stop being a wimp.

It only half works.

“You belong to me Summer,” says Dez, tilting his head to look at me. “You don’t break those ties. You’re nothing without me, remember?”

I remember. But I’m not that girl anymore.

He rubs distractedly at his neck, as though it’s itching.

“When you left, you broke me,” he says. But his voice sounds angry rather than sad. “I’m doing a lot more of the white stuff,” he adds, sniffing again. “It’s your fault Summer.”

I feel a lurch of guilt, and a lump rises in my throat. By the looks of him, he’s doing more than just cocaine. Everything about him seems erratic and disjointed.

Summer. It’s not your fault.

For a moment, I’m shocked by the words, which seem to come from nowhere. Then I remember. Adam told me that.

I swallow down the lump, and force fire into my eyes.

“Your bad habits are nothing to do with me,” I reply, stepping back from him. “We’re over.”

His eyes flash.

“You don’t say when it’s over,” he says, his voice a deadly whisper. “You need me Summer.”

He shifts his tone slightly, to be coaxing.

“How is a little country mouse like you, going to survive in the big city?” he asks softly.

This is old Dez. When we very first met. And he suckered me in with his charm. But now it’s edged with a horrible drug-fuelled desperation.

“This business is too big for you,” he continues, his eyes earnest. “They’ll walk all over you Summer. They’ll take advantage of you. I won’t let that happen.”

Like a lightning flash, I hear Adam.

I want to protect you Summer.

And just like that, I have the strength.

“Go away Dez,” I say firmly. “I don’t know how you got in, but if you try to get near to me again, I’ll call the police.”

Dez’s face flickers. He’s not frightened of anything. But the police represent his highest threat.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarls.

“Yes, I would,” I say with certainty.

His face contorts, and suddenly he’s animal looking. I remember this Dez too. From the first time. The shock and the pain as his hand connected. The hard floor coming up to meet me. And the terrible feeling, that I was to blame. That I could have prevented it if I hadn’t made him so angry.

“You’re forgetting something, Summer,” he snarls.

“What?”

“You’re still under contract to me.”

I feel the blood freeze in my veins.

The contract.

I’d stupidly thought that Dez had forgotten about it. I signed it a long time ago. When he promised to help my career.

How could you be so stupid Summer? Of course he wouldn’t forget!

“What do you want Dez?” I say, defeated. I’m expecting he’ll ask for money, and wondering how I can get cash together.

The evil glare in his black eyes fades away.

“I want what’s best for you Summer,” he says slowly.

I watch his face carefully, wondering where he’s going with this.

“You’re singing a song about me,” he says. “You owe me. I want to manage your music again. All your music.”

No!

Of all the things he could demand, this is the wors
t.

My heart is in my throat. Money would have been hard. But I never expected this.

“You’re not serious,” I stammer.

“I am completely serious,” says Dez. “I want you back. With me. Where you belong.”

“That is never going to happen,” I say lifting my chin defiantly. “We’re over. I’m on Sing-Win now. And you never did anything for my career.”

“Your song is about me,” he says. “I have rights.”

“I can write songs about whoever I like,” I reply. “It doesn’t mean that song belongs to that person. You’re crazy Dez, if you think you have any rights to that song.”

Dez waits a moment, and I feel my nerves falter. Then he nails me with a steely gaze.

“Do you think I’m stupid Summer?” he spits.

I stare back at him, frightened by the venom in his words.

“Do you think I don’t know, how you got on the show?” he accuses.

“We won a place…”

“You’ve been whoring yourself,” he spits.

I shiver at his conviction, and my eyes widen in affront.

“You think I’m stupid, but I know you Summer,” he continues, his eyes black. “I saw it. Even on the snatches of TV footage I could see it. The way you look at Adam Morgan. You fucked him to get on the show.”

I press my lips together, hoping my face won’t give my away.

How much does he know about me and Adam?

“You’ve no proof…” I begin.

Suddenly Dez’s hand shoots out. My face ricochets back from the slap.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me,” he hisses. “You’re fucking Adam Morgan. It’s written all over your face. I know that’s how you got on Sing
-Win.”

My hand moves to my hot cheek, where the slap is still ringing.

“How dare you?” My words come low and dark. “Fucking my way onto the show? That’s
you
Dez. That’s how
you’d
do things. Because you don’t have any talent of your own.”

I’m aware my words are about to earn me another slap. But I don’t care. I’m too furious.

“You could never understand what’s between me and Adam,” I continue, letting the words pour out. “You don’t know what it’s like to truly care for a person. You’re just about power and control.”

It takes a moment for Dez to absorb my words. He seems genuinely shocked that I’m speaking this way about Adam. But it only takes him a few seconds to return to his former diatribe.

“You can’t break with me that easily,” says Dez. “You only go when I say you can go Summer.”

“Why do you care?” I spit back. “You never loved me.”

Dez grins, but there’s no humour there.

“You’re mine Summer,” he says. “I was willing to give you a little time. To think things over. But if I can’t have you, no
-one can. Remember?”

Of course I remember. Dez used to threaten me with this daily. And now his words make an ominous certainty in my mind.

“Don’t think I won’t use extreme measures,” he adds.

My earlier suspicion clicks firmly into place.

“You sabotaged the boat,” I accuse.

Dez’s black eyes are on mine.

“I saw how you looked at him,” he accuses, his voice full of hurt and bitterness. “You never looked at me that way.”

I hesitate, unsure of how to respond.

“You could have killed somebody,” I accuse, finally, hoping to appeal to his better nature. “Surely you didn’t want that?”

“Better have you dead,” says Dez. “Than another man’s whore.”

I feel my stomach squeeze.

He’s insane.
Did my hiding from him make him this way?

Once again I have the creeping feeling that this is all my fault.

It’s not your fault Summer. It’s the drugs. Look at the state of him.

Dez sees the hesitation in my face and smiles.

“I just want things the way they were,” he says. “I’m prepared to forgive and forget. We’ve both done bad things.”

I swallow, the tears rising up.

“You don’t treat someone like you treated me, if you love them,” I whisper.

Memories of his possessiveness are flooding back. How he forced me to stop seeing my friends one by one, until I had no
-one to turn to.

Dez shakes his head. “It was because I loved you so much,” he says. “That’s why I got angry sometimes.”

Those words again.

I’ve heard this a lot, and it always used to churn me up. But this time, his words hit a dead cold place.

“I don’t want you back,” I say, trying to push some power into my voice. “I’ll never get back with you Dez.”

His face hardens.

“You’re under contract.”

“So sue me,” I spit. “I don’t care. The Sing
-Win people have lawyers. They’ll get me out of it.”