Yes, Boss

forty five.

Flora

I wake up with a start from a dream, and wonder for the second where the hell I am. Until I sit up and I realise I'm looking at my own front garden, the flowers and trees all as they are, running alongside my gravel driveway. Why was I asleep on my own doorstep, I wonder as I run a numb hand up my numb arm. Would not recommend sleeping outside in your concrete front porch, if I'm honest.

Jesus, I must have had a rough night. Considering I don't remember any of it and now I'm here, I rest my aching head in my hands trying to think straight, I jump as the door clicks open behind me, turning to see my dad looking down at me, dressed in his golf wear.

"Dad!" I say in strangled surprise.

"You look a bloody state Flora you little stop-out, get inside before your mother see's you" He shakes his head, smile lines creasing into laugh. Jesus. I need to move out.

I scramble up, opening the front door and creeping up the carpeted stairs to my bedroom, stripping off last nights dress and shoes and crawling into bed, relaxing into the soft bed with a sigh and falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I wake up what must be a few hours later, as I sit up in my bed a few things come back to me, I passed out in Harry's car.. he must have dropped me home and I didn't make it past the front door apparently. I reach into my bag to get my phone, typing a message.

'Thanks for the lift home, soz for being a mess x'

I get a reply less than a minute later.

'I didn't give you a lift home? You were a mess? For gods sake Princess. xx'

He did.. I remember getting in his car so well, I mean I don't remember after that, but it happened, I am so sure. I don't reply.. confused.. I wasn't picked up by anyone it was Harry. His range rover, his shirt, his hair.. He texts me again after I don't reply.

'???. xx'

I reply this time to get him off my case.

'Yes, I was a mess. I don't remember how I got home I just sort of assumed it was you, stupid of me. Mum just told me I came back in a taxi about 12 xx'

I remember the guy I met calling Harry to pick me up, I go to my call log. There's no call.. plenty of missed calls from Harry, but none outgoing. None at all. I throw my phone down on the bed in frustration, I thought maybe he was playing a stupid mind game.. apart from the fact my memories don't match up, Matt didn't call Harry to pick me up, he didn't call anybody, yet Harry picked me up 5 minutes later.

I go straight to the bathroom, feeling fragile and run myself a steaming hot shower, wiping off my make-up before I hop in. As I walk down the hall back towards my room, my phone goes again.

New picture message from Edward Styles. I pick my phone up cautiously and open the message, a small squeak erupting from my mouth. There's several picture of me, private pictures.. the kind of pictures I'd even be hesitant to let Harry take. My hands are shaking as another text comes through.

'Last night was fun. Don't you think Harry would love to see these, he'd love to know what we did together?'

Eddie.. last night, that was Eddie?

'We didn't do anything.. what are you talking about?'

'Just because you were drunk doesn't mean it didn't happen, Flora'

'You're a fucking psychopath. Delete those now'

'Now, now. Don't go calling me names, I need your help, unless you want these sent straight to Harry. Who do you think he'll believe? You? Or his dear brother'

'He hates you.'

'Sure, but he wouldn't believe that I drugged you and raped you, it would just make you look like an elaborate liar'

'What do you want from me?'

'Well, where should I start'