Carnage Boxset
Page 60
“Georgia, you okay?” I put the half of the burger I had in my hand down.
“What’s the time?” I ask him, and he looks at the chunky, chrome-looking watch he has on his wrist.
“Twelve forty-five,” he replies. “Is something wrong?” I shake my head, but I’m lying. Of course there’s something wrong, everything’s wrong. “Kitten, please fucking talk to me. It’s like you’re on another planet since you came out of the shower.”
“What are we doing, Cam? Me and you, what is this?” He rakes his hand through his hair.
“This right now is us talking. This is me and you, sorting through some issues that should’ve been sorted a while ago but they weren’t, so we’re sorting them now.” He finishes his burger and knocks back his drink, all without taking his eyes off me. “We’re talking, Kitten, just talking. There’s no need to look so scared, and there’s no need to look so guilty.” I lower my eyes; how does he know I feel guilty? “The guilt’s written all over your face, George. You loved your husband, I fucking know that. I’m all too painfully aware of how much you love your husband, and yeah, tonight’s not the best night for us to have met up, but it wasn’t planned. We didn’t mean to be in the same place at the same time. I had no idea you were gonna be at the opening of my club tonight, but now that I know what the significance of today’s date is, I’ll be fucked if I leave you here alone for the rest of the night. I won’t leave you on your own, no matter how much guilt you’re feeling.”
He pours himself another drink and passes me a glass of water; it’s infused with the lemon and lime slices that are in it and is really refreshing. He draws his eyebrows together and leans his head back. “Why were you there? Why were you at the club anyway?”
My phone starts to ring and I look around the room for it; my clutch is on the sofa, where I left it when we got in, and that’s where the sound of Sean’s voice is calling to me from. I jump up and answer it. I can see from the display that it’s Jackson, and I know I’m in trouble.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I meant to call, I just forgot.”
“Not clever, George; really not clever. You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m back at the hotel having something to eat.”
“Okay, no worries; as long as you’re all right. Is Cam the Alpha man there with you?”
“What the fuck, Jax? What does that mean?” I turn around and mouth, “Jackson,” to Cam, who is busy finishing off my burger and pretending not to listen to my conversation. I know this man, though, and I know he won’t have missed a single word that’s been said.
“It means he looked at me like he wanted to gut me and then play footy with my head before he knew I was your cousin.” I can’t disagree. I know how possessive Cam is, possessive but loyal.
“Na, he wouldn’t waste his time with all that bullshit. If he wanted you dead, he’d just shoot you.” I watch Cam’s reaction as I speak; he holds the wedge he’s about to put into his mouth mid-air.
“What the fuck, Kitten? You’ll give people the…” I ignore his protests and listen to Jackson instead.
“That’s reassuring to know, George. I’m still alive, so he mustn’t hate me too much.” We’re both quiet for a few seconds. “What time d’ya leave?” he asks.
“I have a car coming at six am.”
I expect him to complain about getting up so early, but instead, he says, “Well, I’ll have to make sure we’re back by then. I’ll see ya downstairs before ya go, but give us a minute, though, just in case we’re late.” I don’t ask who the ‘we’ are; I don’t want to know. I end the call and turn back toward Cam
“He’s a bit over-protective for a cousin, isn’t he?” I put my hands on my hips.
“He’s more like a brother than a cousin. We’ve always been pretty close.”
“Fuck, did no one tell him you already have three psycho brothers? You really don’t need any more.”
Well, that pisses me off. I don’t like him talking about my family this way. “My brothers aren’t psycho… Well, maybe Bailey is, but Len and Marley…”
He shakes his head. “You seriously have no idea, do you?”
I’m confused. “About what?”
He takes a sip of his drink. “When your family first found out we were seeing each other, I had a visit from all of them, except your dad.”
“My brothers came to see you, about us?” This is news to me.
“And your mum,” he adds.
My head spins. If he tells me now Mum said anything to him to try to keep us apart, I will never speak to her again; not after what she did to Sean and me.
He must notice the look on my face.
“At least she didn’t threaten me; she just told me to look after you and to love you the way you deserved to be loved.”
My hands fall to my side. “My mum said that?”
He nods. “Your brothers, on the other hand, all threatened a slow and painful death if I ever even breathed on you too heavily.” I’m actually surprised at this; Bailey and my dad, I would expect it from, but not Len and Marls.
“Even Lennon and Marley?” He nods his head slowly.
“Bailey was direct; told me he’d take great pleasure in pulling me apart, limb from limb, then watching me drown in the Thames.” I watch as he rubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw. “Lennon was all business-like, even called me Mr King and then continued along the lines of ‘You do anything to upset my sister, I will first fuck you, then choke you with your own dick’; then he just walked out of my office.” Is it wrong that I feel a little stab of pride at my family’s protectiveness? “Marley on the other hand,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. Oh, shit, what did Marley do? “Marley simply said, ‘She cries, even once, even happy tears, you’re dead’.” Oh, well, that’s not too bad.
“I’m their little sister, and I’d been a mess for so long, they were just looking out for me.” My phone rings, and I expect it to be Jackson again but it’s Marley’s name on the screen. I smile; finally, my brother has gotten in touch.
“Speak of the devil,” I say to Cam as I answer the call. I don’t get a chance to speak as the sound of Marley’s sob breaks my heart.
“I miss him so much, George. I miss him! It fucking hurts, and I don’t know what to do.” I’m stunned into silence; tears are rolling down my cheeks instantly, but I don’t make a sound. “How’d you do it, George; how’d you carry on? I miss you; you’re so fucking strong. I’m your big brother, and I want to fix this. I want to make it all better for you, spit on it, rub it better and make it all go away, like I did when we were little. D’ya remember that, Porge; remember when I used to do that?” I nod and a choking sob escapes my chest.
“Yes, yes, I remember. Even when I fell off the monkey bars and broke my collarbone, you spat on it and said I’d be fine.”
I’m not sure if he’s laughing or crying as he says, “Yeah, and coz you believed me, you didn’t tell anyone how much it hurt and walked round with a broken collarbone for three days until you passed out with the pain, see… see what I mean about how brave you are? You’re the bravest person I know, George, I miss ya so much. I want you home. You should be here, with all of us, not thousands of miles away trying to fix yourself. That’s our job; we should be helping you mend.” I’ve walked back into the bedroom as he talks.
“What you gonna do? You all gonna spit on me and try to make it better?” I hear him laugh and I miss him so badly in that moment. God, I really miss him.
“That’s fucked, George. You know how wrong that sounds? Gross, really gross.”
We’re both silent for a few seconds.
“I have something I need to tell ya, George.”
“The band have split up.” It’s a statement not a question, and he doesn’t say anything. “It’s sad but inevitable, Marls. You all just need to do what you need to do to get through this, same as I have.” I hear him sniff.
“I can’t do it, George; I can’t be up on the stage with the boys wi
thout him. It’s not right, and there’s no way I wanna be up there as his replacement. I’d rather just be up there on my own, just do my own thing.” I’m nodding, despite being fully-aware of the fact that he can’t see me.
“I get it. I totally get it.”
“That way,” he says, and I know his voice is breaking into another sob, “that way, I can just pretend. I can get up there and pretend I’m up there doing my thing and he’s off somewhere doing his. Happy, writing his shitty love songs about you, loving you, being your husband and Beau’s dad. When I’m up there, that’s what I can pretend, George, coz that’s how it should be.” I can’t speak, because I can’t control the sobs. I almost vomit with the force that they’re leaving my body. “It’s not fair, George. Why him? Why the fuck was it him and Beau?”
We both sob into the phone as we contemplate the unfairness of life.
“Ahh, fuck, I’m sorry for laying all this shit on ya, George. I’m your big brother. I should be the one making it better for you.”
“We’re family, Marls, we help each other.”
“Well, I’ve never been much help to you, have I? All I’ve ever done is cause you shit. It was my fault you were apart all those years. If that hadn’t happened, things would probably be different now.” I don’t know what to say to this. It’s something that’s crossed my mind so many times, not that Marley was to blame. Sean and I made our own choices at that time, and we both chose not to sort our shit out and speak. Our continued separation was our fault, with a bit of help from Mum and Whorely.
“If you hadn’t split up, you would have had babies a long time ago, and you wouldn’t have been there, outside that shop that day. The accident would never have happened,” he continues.
“You don’t know that. You can’t say that for sure, Marls.” I wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my tracksuit, and as I do, I notice Cam is walking towards me. He hands me a tissue and steers me back out to the living area and over toward the sofa, where I sit down. He goes back to the table, tops up my glass of water and brings that over to me. I take a sip as I watch him go back and top up his own drink. How hard must this be for him? He’s sat here silently, offering nothing but comfort while I cry over the death of my husband, the man I chose over him. I don’t deserve his comfort. I don’t even deserve his company, but it’s welcome. Once again, I’m overcome by guilt: guilt at feeling what I do for Cam, guilt about how I treated him in the past, and there, always there, clawing away at my insides and my heart is the fact that this is the man I cheated on my now-dead-husband with. My eyes fill with tears as I watch him walk back towards the small, two-seater sofa. He slides his arm along the back as he sits down, and he pulls me in and kisses the top of my head. It’s a simple act, but it touches me deeply; my eyes meet his and the tears spill over again. I hate thinking that my brother is feeling the guilt that I do.
“Big brother Marley?”
“Little sister Georgia?”
“D’ya know how much I love you? D’ya know how much Sean loved you? D’ya know how much he would hate for you to be feeling like this? Life goes on, Marls. Whether we like it or not, whether we want it to or not, we have no say in that fact. Sean’s dead. Beau’s dead, something else we can’t change, and nobody knows that more than me, Marls. But what we do have a say in is the way we go on living. Do we live half a life, grieving, mourning, and feeling guilty for every breath we get to take and Sean and Beau don’t? Or do we make every day count?” He doesn’t say a word, but I can hear the occasional sniff and my heart aches so badly to be near him. “I’ve spent the past year doing that, Marls, and it’s achieved absolutely nothing. I’ve almost ripped our family apart with my selfish actions and behaviour, and I’ve run away from life and reality once again. I’ve moved all the way to the other side of the world to try and outrun my past, the pain and the guilt. It doesn’t work, and it catches up with me wherever I am. I’m just finally coming to terms with that. I left all of you behind, trying to pick up the pieces and it’s achieved nothing, got me nowhere.” I wipe my tears away on the tissues Cam passed to me, and I take a sip of my water. “If I’m ever gonna live again, Marls, then I need you to do the same. I can’t go on living if you’re not. How guilty d’ya think I would feel if you were to curl up in a ball and give up while I try and put my life back together? I need to grow up, stop behaving like the princess you all treat me like, and I need to start giving back to all of you. I need all of you to move on with me. I need you to hold my hand and show me the way. I can’t do it without you, Marls.” I don’t know where the words are coming from. I just know they need to be said and I know they need to be acted upon.
I listen to my brother’s sobs, and I lose control of my own. Cam takes my free hand and gives it a squeeze, pulling me into his chest, holding me tightly, making me feel so much better than I deserve.
I hear Marley clear his throat.
“I can do that, George. If you can do it, then I fucking well can, but we need you back here. We miss ya, Porge; we all miss ya.” I want to tell him I’m leaving in the morning, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.
“I’ll be home by Christmas, I promise.”
“Good, then we can have a proper Christmas, all of us together.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Porge?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a wanker in the past. I’m sorry I’ve been a wanker tonight. It’s just… it’s just been an emotional few days, what with the band splitting, the anniversary and you not being around. I’ve missed ya, and I’m sorry. I just want ya to know I’m sorry this happened to you, that your life ended up this way.” I make a choking sound as I fight to keep another sob down. “I’m gonna go, George; let me know when you’re gonna be home. Love ya.”
“I will do. Love ya, too, Marls.” I end the call and Cam instantly pulls me onto his lap and holds me while I cry.
“I’m so sorry,” I eventually whisper.
“For what?” he asks.
“Everything; everything I’ve put you through.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Me, too, Kitten; me, too.”
We’re both quiet for a few minutes. I let the sound of his strong heart beating in my ear soothe me. My eyes feel heavy but it’s gotten so late, I’m worried if I fall asleep now, I won’t wake up in time for my car to take me to the airport.
After a long period of silence, Cam asks, “What are we doing here, Kitten? Where are we gonna go with this?” I shift so I can see his face.
“Where would you like it to go? Can we start over? Is that possible?”
He shakes his head. Looking down at where his thumb is brushing over my knuckles, he says very quietly, “No, I don’t think we can, Kitten.” My heart feels like it’s being crushed, squeezed so tight; it’s painful. Well, serves me right. After everything I’ve put Cam through over the years, I really can’t blame him. “We can’t start over. We’ve shared too much to put it all behind us, but we can try and move forward, deal with all the shit from the past and try to find a way, but I can’t promise anything.” My heart speeds up as I process what he’s telling me.
I desperately want him to look up and make eye contact, but he keeps looking down at our joined hands. “You hurt me, Kitten. I don’t hurt for anyone, but you hurt me and you fucking broke me, and I don’t know if I can take a chance on you doing that to me again.”
“I won’t… I promise I won’t,” I blurt out. “I did love you, Cam. I think I’m still in love with you now.”
He nods his head a little bit. “Then I need you to show me, Kitten. I need you to prove it. I need to know that you’re not just using me as a quick fix again.” He finally looks up and meets my gaze. “I can’t run the risk of having you walk away from me again. I need to know for sure that you’re in it for the long haul this time.” I’m nodding as he speaks. I can do that. I can prove all of those things to him. “I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now… And I don’t think you’re ready to even attempt movin
g on.” My stomach drops again.
“Did you not just hear everything I said to Marley. I’m ready. It’s time. I need to carry on with my life.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to need to carry on with your life. I want you to want to carry on with your life and I want you to want me in it.” He pauses and looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to feel used, Kitten. I won’t be used. I won’t ever let that happen again.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. “We both have a lot going on in our lives. Let’s get back to England and catch up in a couple of weeks, but like I said, I’m not promising anything.”
I nod. There’s not a lot else I can do. I gave up my rights to call the shots where Cam’s concerned the night I fell through Lennon’s front door and straight back into Sean’s arms twelve long years ago. I don’t know what he’s read in my expression, but he lets out a long sigh.
“I want you, Kitten, believe me, I want you so fucking bad, but I just want you to be sure. Take a step back and think about it, because when we’re together, neither of us ever seem to think straight.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Take some time to think about why you want to be with me. I don’t want to be just someone to help you through until the next love of your life comes along. I want the next love of your life to be me.” He traces the cupid’s bow of my lips with the pad of his thumb. “I know I’ll never replace him. I know I’ll never be able to give you back what you’ve lost. If I could, I would. Believe me. I really would, but I know that we have something that you didn’t have with him. If everything you had with him was so fucking perfect, then the world wouldn’t crackle with electricity whenever we get near each other. I’m not disputing that you loved him, but I am disputing that given the chance, you wouldn’t have felt even more for me.”
“I’ve already admitted that I think I was in love with you.”
“Not good enough, Kitten. I want you to know for sure that you are in love with me. Then and only then will I consider getting more involved. I can’t allow it to be any other way.” He sits forward on the edge of the sofa but turns his head towards me. “Being here with you tonight and not touching you has nearly killed me. I’m aching for ya, Kitten. I wanna kiss ya, lick ya, taste and fuck ya. I wanna bury myself inside ya, feel that tight little cunt of yours throb and pulse around my cock when you come. I want to hear those little noises you make when I flick my tongue over your clit, but I know, if I so much as kiss you, we won’t be making it out of this room for at least a week. And I know, that I will be wanting you by my side and in my bed every morning and every night till the day I die. Until you decide that’s what you want too, I’ve got to keep my hands off you.” My mouth is dry. I want to say so much. I want to promise him that I’m his; that I’ll be his forever; that I’ve done nothing but think about what I feel for him for years, especially in the last few weeks. But I don’t think he’s ready to believe me, and if it’s proof that he wants, if he wants me to show him what he means to him, then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll find a way to show him, I’ll find a way to make him understand, that’s the very least I owe him.