The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(40)

“Yeah, the chain of clubs he has.”

“He has a chain?”

“Yeah, you went to the opening night of the first one in Shoreditch the other year. Don’t you remember when you punched that bird’s lights out and it was in all the papers?” My jaw clenches at the mention of Whorely.

“I thought that club was called KK’s or something like that?”

“It is, Kitten and King’s, but everyone calls it KK’s. He’s got three of them on the go in England now, and he’s just opened one in Ibiza and one in Madrid.”

He’d called the club Kittens and I didn’t even know. I’d f*cked him in his office, in a club he’d named after me, and I didn’t even know.

“You still there, George?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”

“D’ya want me to call ya back tomorrow?”

“Na, na, I’m fine. So yeah, anyway, his brother Robbie turned up,” I continue to tell Bailey about what I had found out about Cam’s past from his brother that day.

We end the call a while later, with him assuring me he won’t inform our parents or brothers of what had happened last night. God, if any of them knew the actual truth, I’d be packed in a crate and shipped back to England in a flash. I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

It’s getting late and I’m tired, but I want to talk to Cam. I just want to put his mind at rest and thank him for his concern. That’s all.

That. Is. All.

I find his number and press call, my stomach in knots. It’s Sunday morning in England, and I wonder if he will be up yet… And alone.

“Kitten, what the f*ck’s going on? Are you okay? What was wrong last night, and don’t tell me nothing.”

“Fuck, Tiger, you’ll let me get a word in edgeways, won’t ya?” I hear him sigh and I know, I just know he’s shaking his head. My heart likes that I know that about him and does a little skip and a dance in my chest. “Stop shaking your head at me.” I hear him laugh, a little laugh, not his big, head thrown back, boom of a laugh, but it makes my heart let me know it still has life pulsing through it, and it stirs something in my belly.

“What happened?” he asks me quietly, and I suddenly want to tell him everything. I want to curl up in his big lap, feel his big arms around me and breathe in that unique smell that is Cam.

“Do you still wear Givenchy?” He gives another little chuckle.

“What a strange question. Now stop evading mine and tell me what the f*ck happened.”

“I f*cked up.”

“What did you do?”

“I got drunk. I got stoned. I snorted coke.”

“Kitten,” he whispers, and I know his eyes are closed. I’m not sure whether or not I should continue but I do.

“And then I couldn’t sleep, so I took a couple of Valium, but I was so f*cked-up that I forgot I had taken the Valium already and I took some more.” I say it quickly, and then cringe as I wait for his response, but nothing could prepare me for the roar that comes down the line. I have to move the phone away from my ear it’s so loud. I catch words like ‘who, where, kill, dead, f*ck, murder, dead, cunt’ and he says Georgia a lot; not Kitten but Georgia. I put the phone on speaker as a precaution so I don’t have it against my ear.

“Have you finished?” I ask when he finally stops and is breathing heavily into the phone.

“Not by a long f*ckin’ shot. What happened? Did Bailey get you to the hospital? The f*cker wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“You threatened to shoot my brother.” It wasn’t a question.

“And?”

“He’s my brother and you threatened to shoot him.”

“He threatened to get your dad to blow my balls and my head off.”

“He told me about your head, but he didn’t mention your balls.” I tried to hide the smile in my voice. “And anyway, he only threatened after you did.”

“He wouldn’t tell me anything. He wouldn’t tell me where you were… I was… you scared the f*ck out of me, Georgia.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I’m a f*ckin’ idiot where you’re concerned.”

“But you do care?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He lets out a long sigh.

“What’s it to you, Kitten? Why do you care that I care? You made your choices a long time ago, and they didn’t involve me.”

“They weren’t choices. I had no control. I explained that to you then.” My heart is pumping the blood around my body at such a rate that I can feel the pressure and hear a ‘whoosh’ in my ears.

“We all have choices, Kitten, and you chose him.”

“He’s dead.”

“I know and I’m sorry for that; I’d do anything for that not to be the case.” That’s such a Cam thing to say.

“I’m glad you care.” And it hits me in that moment just how glad I am that he cares. A wave of so many emotions washes over me. One of them is something I’m not sure of yet, desire is another, then want and of course, guilt.

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“Why?” he asks in a voice that’s so quiet for Cam.