Exclusively Yours (Joe & Ella Book 2) Page 3

  “But he’s out cold.” I argued.

  “He’s bloody pissed that’s why.”

  “He might have caused some permanent damage. We should take him to the hospital.”

  “He’s fine. The only thing he’ll have to worry about is the almighty headache he’s going to wake up with tomorrow morning.” Max said with zero sympathy.

  “Don’t forget the bill for my window.” Robyn Piped up.

  Was I the only one who was concerned here? At that moment Joe’s eyes fluttered open and he rolled off my lap and onto all fours.

  “What the fuck are you doing mate?” Max scolded him.

  “She hates me.” Joe shook his head. “She hates me and there’s nothing I can do about it.” I just froze, kneeling next to him and wondering if he even knew I was there or even where he was.

  “Can you blame her, you’re a fucking mess.” Max said.

  “I know. I’m not worth shit.” Joe said and my heart broke a little more.

  Max looked over Joe’s shoulder at me. I couldn’t quite read what he was trying to say to me with his eyes, so I made a guess that he was asking me to step back, give Joe some dignity and let him leave thinking I hadn’t seen him. I stood silently and crept back up to the door to stand beside Robyn.

  “Come on big man, I’m only parked there look.” Max pointed to his car which was still running. “Stand up and get in the fucking car. You need to go home and sober up before someone calls the cops.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He replied sadly and stood up swaying and staggering down the path, grabbing onto Max for what little support he could give. He didn’t look back at us, just kept his head down and then slumped into the car. Max even had to buckle him up.

  “I’m sorry again ladies, I’ll make sure you get the money for the window Robyn.” He said. “And Ella he will be apologising to you for this too.”

  “It’s okay Max, just as long as you both get home safely.” I replied.

  The next morning we woke to find an envelope had been pushed through our letter box addressed to Robyn. Inside was cash, a lot of cash. Much more than it would cost to repair the window. A short and badly scribbled note, which had probably been written last night when he was still inebriated said, ‘I’m sorry for all the damage I caused. Hope this will cover it. If not I’ll pay any extra. Joe.’ I’d bet money on it that Max had popped it round first thing this morning. I doubted Joe was up to anything other than sleeping this morning.

  During the afternoon, whilst I was watching pointless daytime TV and debating going back to work the next day, our doorbell rang. I answered to find a delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.

  “Wow, thanks.” I sighed signing the delivery note and taking the flowers from him. They dwarfed me they were so big.

  I placed them in the middle of the coffee table and slipped the envelope from its holder inside, feeling excited to read his words.

  My Beautiful Ella,

  I am so sorry for what I did last night.

  I never meant to hurt, upset or frighten you or Robyn.

  I just miss you so much. Please call me, talk to me.

  This is killing me sweet heart.

  Always and forever,

  Your Joe x

  It still felt too early for me to call him, everything was still so raw. But in some strange way seeing him last night had eased my heart ache a little. He was still thinking about me just as much as I was thinking about him. The realisation of this made me glow with a glimmer of hope.

  4

  As the week went on I started to do more, get myself up and out to run little errands. Make myself feel like I was part of the human race again. The pain in my chest wouldn’t go away though, as much as I tried to help myself to heal. Maybe I needed to get back to work, I wondered, keep my mind busy. The less thinking I had to do the better, then perhaps the searing pain in my chest would die down completely.

  I’d spoken to Max most nights on the phone, he was amazing, but hearing about Joe wasn’t helping me to move on, if moving on was what I wanted. To be absolutely honest with myself I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore. It was all so strange. I’d been faced with some of the most hurtful images any girlfriend would want to see, ever. Had I been duped so badly by him? Was the man I met in the nightclub the real Joe, all bravado and cockiness, and what I had experienced since we’d been together a smoke screen of lies? Then on the flip side my brain kept telling me to lighten up, it was a decade ago. A man of Joe’s age was bound to have some sort of past and yes his past was pretty gross but then he hadn’t killed anyone. He wasn’t into drugs and he hadn’t been to prison. He’d treated me so well since I’d let myself fall for him. Was it really fair of me to judge him like this when it happened before he’d even met me? I voiced this to Max one night during one of our chats.

  “Ella I think it’s time we have that chat I promised you. Are you free Saturday afternoon?”

  “Yes, did you want to meet at a coffee shop or somewhere?”

  “No, I think its best I come to yours, it’s not the type of chat I’d feel comfortable doing in public.”

  “Okay is around 2pm okay?”

  “Great, see you then Ella.”

  I debated making a pros and cons list for forgiving Joe, like Chris suggested when I was toying with the idea of moving in with him. God I wish I still had simple things like that to ponder these days. At the moment I felt like my love life was dead in the water, my career doomed to fail now that my working relationship with Joe would be almost impossible, and I was a grumpy, miserable loser who would probably drive away her last few friends with all the drama I gave them. I was destined to be the random spinster cat lady, good job I loved cats.

  When Saturday came I spent the morning busying myself with cleaning and organising my wardrobe and drawers. I even cleaned the oven, which was probably the first time it had ever seen a scouring pad since it was installed. That’s how desperate I was to keep my mind from wondering onto things that made my chest ache and my tummy flip with fear. By the time Max rang our doorbell the house was the cleanest it had been in years and I was knackered.

  “Hey Ella, you okay? You look tired.”

  “I’ve blitzed the house and now I’m totally beat.” I flopped onto the sofa then went to get back up as I said, “Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?”

  “Don’t get up I’ll put the kettle on. Would you like one?” he asked. This guy was unreal, he was offering to make me a cuppa in my own home.

  “Tea, no sugar just milk thanks.” I grinned up at him, it was nice to be waited on.

  Max carried two mugs into the living room and sat in the armchair. He looked tired himself now I was focusing properly on him.”

  “Are you okay Max, you look tired yourself.”

  “It’s not much fun over at Joe’s right now. He’s a bit of a handful as you know. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Why not?” I prayed he wouldn’t tell me Joe had brought a woman home and kept him up all night with his date screaming in pleasure. That would just turn me into a crazy nutter out for revenge. The thought of Joe with any other woman even now filled me with so much rage.

  “He decided it would be a great idea to rearrange his kitchen cupboards…at 4am. I got woken up by all the banging and crashing as he flung pots and pans around the place.”

  “What the hell was he doing that for?” I was relieved to hear it wasn’t female related, then silently cursed myself for still caring.

  “Probably the same reason you blitzed your house today. He said he needed to stop thinking. He isn’t running on the same time zone as the rest of us right now.”

  I sighed and sipped my tea. I knew that feeling, I often found myself staring up at the ceiling at 4am, running through ideas for work and plans for the future. Anything to keep myself from thinking about the one thing that was keeping me awake. Him.

  “So Max, you wanted to have a chat, fire away. I’m all ears.”

  Ma
x sat back and made himself comfy on the armchair. No doubt this would be a long chat judging from the big breath he took in before he started.

  “I’ve known Joe since he was 4 years old. He was always really shy and quiet at school, which seemed strange to me because his two big brothers were loud, brash lads, real bullies, you know the type. He was the complete opposite, and it didn’t take me long to find out why.

  His Dad and his brothers beat him regularly, I mean every day for years Ella. His Dad hated that Joe looked just like his Mum. Joe’s Dad never got over her leaving so seeing her in Joe every day set him off. Joe only had to do the slightest thing wrong and his Dad would whip out the belt, the stick or whatever object he favoured at the time.”

  “God, didn’t anyone report it to social services or welfare people, whatever it is you have over there in the states?” I asked.

  “No, Teachers back then weren’t as observant as they are these days, and people in the area we came from didn’t get involved in other families private business like that. Joe’s Dad was well respected and highly thought of. He was bringing up three sons on his own, working hard and keeping a house going. No one would challenge him, never in a million years. I swear if that shit was happening today though, Joe would be plastered all over every newspaper in the country. No one seemed to notice it happening, well except for me and my family.

  As for his brothers they were just bullies who took after their Dad, they liked hurting Joe for sport. He was smaller, slower, and weaker. It made them feel big to bring him to his knees, have him begging for mercy. He wouldn’t cry though, he told me that when he was 6. He said ‘I can’t ever let them see me cry Max if I cry they’ll do it worse’.

  Joe spent a lot of time over at our house growing up. My Mum loved Joe like a second son, she’d always cook extra and if he didn’t show up for dinner she’d put it away for him and reheat it when he next came round. We knew he wasn’t being fed much at home. He was skinny and he ate like every bite might be his last, he was always so ravenous.

  When we got older Joe wanted to toughen himself up. The beatings from his brothers became worse than anything his Dad was dishing out. I swear we spotted cigarette burns on him this one day he came over in the summer. He wouldn’t take his shirt off even though it was roasting and we had no air conditioning. My Mum went to lift Joe’s shirt and there were red burns on his torso. Little circular ones like a cigarette or cigar might cause. He had lash marks too Ella. My Mum cried all night when he went home. She wanted to call the cops but my Dad wouldn’t let her. She asked Joe if he wanted to come and live with us the next day. He refused, said his place was with his family. They treated him worse than a dog, but he stayed. Still to this day I don’t know why.

  Anyway, our neighbourhood was rough, I mean bad, nasty, pure hell if you weren’t a tough guy. You wouldn’t go walking out on your own after a certain time and both of us wanted to learn how to look after ourselves so we could deal with anything if it happened to us. There was this boxing gym round the block, run by a local ex-champ. He was a good guy and he took Joe under his wing right away. He let us use the equipment whenever we wanted in exchange for a bit of cleaning and basic maintenance here and there. I was a rubbish boxer of course, and I hated going and working out, but Joe he was a natural. Eventually I just went along to watch Joe and help him out, hold the punch bag and all that.

  Stan the guy who ran the gym said Joe had the potential to go pro, he put all his efforts into training him and put him forward for a few fights when we were about fourteen. By this time Joe had developed a pretty kick ass core strength and he could pack a mean punch, so the beatings at home stopped. Joe started getting a reputation on the circuit for being gifted, someone to watch for the future.

  It was when we were about eighteen that we met Rob. He was a boxer like Joe, a few years older than us but he was cocky as hell. He joined our gym even though it was miles away from where he lived and he’d have to pass two other boxing gyms to get to us. It was like he was targeting Joe, he was obsessed with making Joe his best buddy. Joe hung onto his every word but I didn’t trust him. There was something about him that was always off. I’m a good judge of character Ella, and he was bad news.

  I stopped going to the gym with Joe around this time cuz I didn’t like being around Rob. He was always filling Joe’s head with crap about money and cars, women and that sort of thing. Rob always had some slutty type of girl on the go, the type me and Joe would have steered well clear of.

  I didn’t see Joe as much after that, he stopped coming round and started hanging out with Rob more. I’d see him occasionally and when I did we were back to being the best of friends, but whenever he talked about Rob I hated it. He wasn’t a good guy Ella, he was bad news. I sometimes wonder if I’d have kept going to the gym and stayed close to Joe at that time whether I could have stopped it all.”

  “Whatever Joe chose to do, it wasn’t your fault Max.”

  “I know, but he was easily led back then. His family had practically disowned him and he was looking for somewhere to belong. He chose the wrong guy to trust when he turned to Rob. Apparently Rob had started doing personal training to make some extra money on the side, and he told Joe he could set him up with some work. Told him the extra cash would help his boxing career and maybe he’d even get enough to buy his own place. We didn’t know at the time, but Joe had been kicked out of his Dad’s house. Something to do with Joe breaking his brother’s nose one night. He was sleeping rough, which in our neighbourhood was a one way ticket to hell.

  So Joe agreed to go along with Rob one day on one of his ‘training’ sessions. The lady was about 50 with four kids in the house, she locked them in their rooms then Rob got to work giving her the ‘workout’ she wanted. Joe walked out, he told me after that the thought of going anywhere near the woman made him want to throw up. I wish the story ended there but you know it doesn’t. Anyway Rob told Joe how much money the woman had paid him, and started planting seeds in Joe’s head. He said they weren’t all old and ugly, some were hot young women, bored housewives and such.

  Joe agreed to go one more time to another of Rob’s sessions and this time it went how Rob wanted it to go. I won’t give you the gory details Ella, just that she was in her 20s, married to some guy who worked away a lot and felt neglected. She liked Joe so she asked for him alone next time. She also spread the word to her girlfriends who also wanted to try out the hot new trainer on the block. Eventually one of the women told her rich friend in Malibu about Joe the personal trainer with a personal touch and Joe’s clients became more affluent, more powerful. Rob was pissed that Joe started making more money than him. You know I’d even bet money on it being Rob who started off the whole ‘homewrecker’ websites. He could be that warped and malicious.

  “At the moment Max you’re just telling me what I already know, that he fucked a whole load of women for money.”

  “He hated it Ella, he hated himself. From the minute he was dragged into the whole thing by Rob he told me he felt trapped. Rob was putting him up on his couch at the time, and leaning heavily on Joe to pay him some money towards rent, pushing Joe to go out to these appointments.”

  “So Rob was his pimp?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Rob could be very manipulative, controlling even. He knew how to get Joe to do things for him. Joe was weak minded back then, broken down by his shitty life. He was desperate to find his place in the world, but Rob was dragging him down to the gutter.

  Joe told me he hated himself after the first few times he did it. He said he threw up, he felt used and dirty.”

  “So why couldn’t he stop doing it and get a normal job?”

  “There were no jobs for guys like us back then in our shitty neighbourhood. Joe had dropped out of high school and boxing was all he knew, boxing and training.”

  “So just stick to the training then, why did he have to offer those other services?”

  “At first he was young and felt pressured by Rob
to just do it. A year down the line when he was dealing with those Hollywood wives they would do anything to keep their claws in him. He had women blackmailing him, threatening to tell their husbands if he didn’t keep up their appointments. They were brutal. One woman stalked him for months before her husband got wind of it all. Hers was the first divorce Joe was named in. It kinda grew from there. After a well-known TV talk show host was on the receiving end of Joe’s debauchery, he wanted to publicly shame his wife so he made Joe a subject on his TV show. That’s when the whole homewrecker thing started. Joe became hot news in Hollywood but it wasn’t the sort of fame you’d want. He received death threats, hate mail, you name it he got it.

  All the time Joe fell into deeper and deeper depression. He said they were using him, making him feel worthless but he felt trapped. They wouldn’t let him escape. He told me he’d been saving money so he could buy a plane ticket, move across the country and start a new life, a clean life. He hated that they controlled him like a puppet. He had no say over his life, his body. Their blackmailing and the power they wielded was so great he was like a slave to them.

  He’ll hate me for telling you this Ella, and I swore I would take this to the grave, but honestly I think you need to hear just how desperate things got.”

  “Go on.” I muttered my throat drying up with the ache of hearing how my fallen angel had been used and abused.

  “He tried to take his own life Ella. He took a fucking overdose and if I hadn’t gone round that night he wouldn’t be here.”

  Max hung his head down now and started to cry. I cried with him. How the hell could life get so fucked up?

  “I took him to the emergency room and they were able to pump his stomach, he got there just in time Ella. Please, whatever you do, never let him know I told you that.”

  “I won’t I swear.”

  “Anyway, about two or three years after it all started, when Joe was about 22 he got a call from a lawyer in Hollywood. He thought it was another divorce or lawsuit but it wasn’t. Joe had worked with a widower called Estelle, been her personal trainer and only her trainer nothing else. She was a lovely lady who didn’t care what her neighbours thought when they saw Joe walking up her drive, but she had a soft spot for him. Told him he reminded her of her son who’d been killed in a car crash a few years earlier. Estelle had been on holiday when she was knocked down by a drunk driver and killed. She died outright, the driver was way over the speed and alcohol limits. She had no immediate family and she left her whole estate to Joe. The whole $27.8 million of it.”