The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(2)

I knew my mouth was open. I knew I was standing awkwardly, half-twisted between my desk and the telly on the wall, but I couldn’t move. My legs were locked. If I unlocked them, I knew they would give way and I’d hit the floor. Benny passed me a tumbler filled with what looked like whiskey. I drank it down.

“Get me Bailey Layton on the phone. If you can’t get Bailey, try Frank or Finn. Find out what hospital they’re in.” Benny started making calls from two phones at the same time. I held onto my desk as I walked around it and sat down in my chair, our chair. Benny topped up my glass as he passed me a phone. “Bailey,” is all he said.

“Layton, it’s Cameron King. I’m… I just…”

Fuck

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t form words.

Fuck

A strange, strangled sort of sound escaped from my chest and made its way out of my mouth.

Fuck

I needed to know; good or bad, dead or alive. I needed to know.

“How bad?”

“As bad as it gets.” I wanted to throw up; the glass I had in my hand shattered as I held it.

“Is she… Fuck, what does that mean?”

“She’s in surgery. They’re trying to save her. The baby…” I heard a sob. This big, hard man, who I dealt with on many occasions, who was scared of no one and nothing, was sobbing down the phone to me right now.

“The baby’s dead, Cam. She’s lost her baby. Now they’re trying to save her, but they can’t stop the bleeding. She keeps bleeding out and they can’t stop it.” He takes a few deep breaths. “Maca’s gone, it was instant. They’ve got him hooked to a machine, but it’s just so George can say goodbye. There’s nothing they can do… Fuck. I don’t know, Cam. Perhaps it’s best if she goes, too. She won’t survive this. She’ll never get through it. I just, I don’t know if we’ll get her back from this.” His sobs were louder and I shouted to make myself heard. They had to get her through. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t live in a world without her in it, but he was right. I didn’t know how she would get through this. Fuck, I would’ve gladly taken Sean’s place if it meant my Kitten living a happy life. I would’ve given my life for his and the baby. I would’ve given anything to make her happy, to keep her safe.

“She will. She f*ckin’ has to.” She couldn’t die; I wouldn’t let her. I’d do whatever was needed. I’d be there. I’d stay away; whatever it took. I would do whatever was needed, but I would get her through this. I had put her back together once, and I’d do it again when the time was right. When she finally realised she needed me, I would be there and I’d put her back together again.





Prologue - Georgia


“So, Georgia, it’s good news.” My mum’s hand squeezed my right hand just a little bit tighter; Jimmie couldn’t have squeezed my left any tighter if she tried. I was pretty sure I was going to have nerve damage, or at least some broken fingers, if she didn’t ease up on her grip soon, but my mouth was so dry, I couldn’t say a word. I blinked a few times and watched Doctor Patrick Shepherd, the man who held my future in his hands, or in a test tube, if you wanted to get technical, or would it be biological? Anyway, the direction in which my life was about to go was all dependent on what he told me now. I felt sick. I felt hot. I felt cold… But at least I was feeling; that was something.

“We managed to harvest eight eggs and they have been successfully frozen; now all you need to do is decide on a donor. There’s no rush; take your time and let us know when you’re ready to proceed.”

Eight.

Eight eggs.

Eight chances.

A sob escaped my throat and a tear plopped into my lap as I hung my head. I didn’t want a donor; I wanted Sean. I wanted Sean’s babies. I wanted Sean and I wanted Beau. I wanted my boys back… But I knew that was impossible. I knew they were gone, and I would be so eternally grateful at this chance I had been given.

It had been by absolute pure chance that I’d found out there was a possibility of me having a baby of my own, and it was that hope that had kept me going these past nine months since I’d lost my husband and child.

Jimmie and my mum had come with me for a routine check-up with my gynaecologist, just over three months after the accident that ended my world, and it was there that we discovered something no one had been aware of at the time of my emergency surgery…The one remaining ovary I had left with after my ectopic pregnancy had been saved, and my eggs were probably still viable.

Jimmie didn’t hesitate; the instant the news registered with the three of us, she instantly offered her womb to carry my child in. She had offered once before, when she thought Sean and I were having trouble conceiving, but I didn’t think she actually meant it; she did. She called Lennon from my doctor’s office and simply told him what she had offered to do. She didn’t ask his permission. She told him and he simply agreed; as long as she was sure, he had no issue with it.

And so began a six-month course of fertility drugs for me, a cocktail of drugs to stimulate my one ovary and lo and behold, we had eight eggs, frozen until I decided on my next step. All Jimmie had requested was I make my choice by the time she was thirty-five; she had four children of her own to look after and really didn’t want to be over thirty-five, pregnant and running around after four kids.