The Letters (Carnage #4)(12)

I rest my forehead on Cam’s chest and sob. “But it hurts so much. It hurts that he’s dead and it hurts that I’m crying for him and hurting you.” I gulp in air and end up giving myself the hiccups.

“Why does it have to be so painful? I don’t want him to be dead, and I don’t want you to hurt. I don’t wanna cry. I love him, I love you, and I love the kids. If he hadn’t died, they wouldn’t even exist, maybe, or would they? Would we have still happened? I don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I’m a grown up, I’m supposed know this shit, and I don’t.”

He kisses the top of my head and my tear-streaked face, while holding me close. My heart and my thoughts racing.

“Oh, Georgia. My biggest worry was that you’d react like this to what you’d find in that box.”

“I’m sorry, Cam. I’m so, so sorry.”

I feel him stand with me still in his arms and walk through my office door. I thank Dr. Dre and his Beats for the fact that my children will hopefully remain unaware of their mother’s monumental meltdown and burry my face in Cam’s chest as he carries me upstairs to our bedroom.

These letters and the emotions that they’ve stirred up have hit me hard. So much harder than I was expecting them to.

He lies down with me on our bed and spoons in behind me. I feel drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally wrung out, and it takes no time at all for my eyes to feel as heavy as my heart and for sleep to claim me.





CHAPTER 6


Cameron

I turn and look over my shoulder as the church quietens.

“You ready for this?” Robbie asks from beside me.

“No,” I reply through gritted teeth, trying not to move my lips.

I watch as Chantelle, wearing a big white puffy dress and holding onto a frail looking Colin’s arm, walks up the aisle. Her eyes are on me, and they shine. She loves me, she’s in love with me, and I feel … nothing. Not a thing.

“If you don’t wanna do this, bro, then you need to pull the plug now. Put a stop to this and just both move on.”

“It’s too late,” I whisper as an overwhelming sense of panic rises from my toes to my chest.

“It’s never too late, Cam. Run. Run now. I’ll make up some bullshit excuse for you.”

I look my brother squarely in the eyes.

“Run, Cameron. Run now while you still can.”

I turn my head, looking from my bride-to-be and her dad, who are rapidly approaching, and then to my brother, who’s pointing at the doorway behind us that the vicar came through a few minutes before.

I give my brother a quick nod and move to make my escape through the small arched exit, but my legs feel like lead weights. I actually grab my left thigh in both my hands and lift it, I do the same with my right, but it’s no good, not fast enough.

“I love you so much, Cameron. We’re going to be so happy together.” I can hear Chantelle calling from behind me.

I throw myself on the floor and attempt to crawl towards the door, but there are hands everywhere, grabbing at me.

“Come back, Cam! You promised.” I hear Chantelle’s voice above all of the others that are calling my name.

“Cam, baby, wake up.”

I sit up, nearly headbutting Georgia as I do.

“Jesus. Shit. Fuck,” I get out between gasps of air.

Georgia comes into focus, kneeling beside me and holding my right hand between both of hers. I drag the fingers of my left hand through my hair. Her eyes are wide and her mouth’s slightly open as she watches.

“You all right?” she asks quietly.

“I was dreaming.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I gathered that much, babe. Was it bad?”

I slide my hand from between hers and scratch my head whilst yawning. Georgia remains staring at where I just removed my hand from her hold.

Her head slowly rises, and her eyes meet mine. They’re still wide, but now, they’re also shining with unshed tears.

What the f*ck is she getting upset for?

“Was it bad, your dream? A nightmare?”

She watches my throat as I swallow, and despite still feeling a little shaky and disoriented, my dick stirs to life when she licks her lips.

“C’mere.” I gesture with my head and hold out my arms. Now, it’s my turn to watch as her throat moves when she swallows. My erection not giving a shit about the inappropriateness of his appearance.

“Are you pissed off with me?” she asks quietly without making an attempt to move towards my open arms and waiting lap. Which doesn’t make me in the least bit happy.

“Why the f*ck am I pissed off with you, Kitten?” My voice sounds croaky from sleep. I watch as she laces her fingers together and sets them on top of her knees, rolling her thumbs around and around each other.

Georgia looks nervous. Georgia doesn’t do nervous. I’ve no clue what could be going through that complicatedly beautiful mind of hers.

“My meltdown at lunch time. You’ve stayed up here all day. You’ve not even seen much of the kids.”

I feel like I’m living in a parallel universe. I must still be foggy from sleep because I feel like I’m missing something.

“What the f*ck are you talking about?” My question comes out harsher than I intend, but I’m baffled.