The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(41)

“You’ve turned this right around.” How the f*ck did that happen?

“Answer me, Kitten. Why are you glad I care?”

“Despite what you might think, I’ve always cared, and there’s always been something there.”

“But not enough.” I don’t know if that’s a question or a statement. If it’s a question, I don’t know how to answer it, so I go for honesty.

“You know what, Cam, it probably was enough. But by the time I realised it, I was back with Sean and it was too late for us. Please don’t think I never cared, because I did. I always have, and I still do.” Whatever he may think of me now, I need him to know this; it’s suddenly important to me.

“I don’t know what to say to that.” I can’t help but laugh at that.

“Seriously? You mean, for once, the great Cameron King has no comeback?” I know he’s smiling.

“Fuck, Kitten, I don’t think I do.”

“I love that I can do that to you.” The words come out before I think about them; they’re the truth and I just can’t help it.

“You’ve just made me hard.” God, the things he says. I clench everything inside me and unconsciously grind myself into the mattress as I sit.

“You mean you weren’t already?” I’m all bravado, but I blush as I think of Cam with a hard-on; he still has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.

“Semi,” he says casually, but I know he’s grinning.

“That works for me.” My stomach curls in on itself as I say the words aloud that really were just meant to be said to myself, in my head.

“Fuck, Kitten.” It sounds like he growls; my head spins, my eyes feel heavy and my skin heats.

“Yes, please, Tiger.”

“Don’t tease me, Kitten. I’m warning you. Do. Not. Tease. Me.”

“I’m not teasing. I’m wet and I’m aching.” I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I’m so turned on I keep pushing.

“I wish I was closer. I want to be able smell how wet. I want to be able to taste your ache.” Oh, God.

“Should I book my flight and jump on the next plane?”

“Plane? Where the f*ck are you?” Oh, shit, I thought Bailey would have told him.

“I’m in Australia. I’m… I’ve been here for a couple of months. I needed to get away, you know. All the stories in the papers and now with the anniversary of the accident coming up, I needed to get away. My cousin Jackson called and invited me to come and stay. My aunt and uncle own a bar, so I’ve just been helping out here, lying low and…” I try to think of a word. “And fixing myself.”

“Kitten,” he pauses for a few seconds, “where in Australia are you?” His tone has completely changed; he sounds almost angry.

“Byron Bay,” I reply, and I swear I hear him let out a groan as I answer.

“I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Sorry, but I need to go.”

And just like that, he hangs up.

Well, that went well. What did I say?

I text Roman back that I’m okay and curl up and go to sleep.





Chapter Eleven


I wake bright and early Monday morning and call my mum, and I chat with her for about an hour about nothing in particular. I don’t mention I’m going to book my flight home; I’m going to surprise her and my dad and just turn up. I then call Jimmie and let her know I’ve decided I’m ready to come home.

“Are you sure, George?”

“Yeah, it’s time, Jim; I’m homesick and missing you all. I’ll probably leave sometime next week.”

“Not before the weekend then?”

“No, not before the weekend; I’m not ready to be facing that. I just… I want to be as far away from all of that madness as possible.”

“I understand. How d’ya plan on spending the day?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. The club Jodie’s been working on has its opening night Saturday and we’ve all been invited down to Sydney for that, but it just seems wrong.”

“Why’s it wrong, George?”

“You don’t think going out clubbing on the one-year anniversary of my husband and child’s death is wrong?” She’s quiet for a few seconds.

“I think you need to do whatever it takes to get you through the day. I think you staying in bed all day and crying is the wrong thing to do, George. You’ve spent almost a year locked away, hiding from life. I think this could be the perfect time for you to get back out in the land of the living, and I couldn’t think of anywhere better for you to do it.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well, who’s gonna be expecting you to turn up at a club in Sydney? All eyes are gonna be focused on England: they’ll be looking for you at your mum’s, at the cemetery, where the accident happened. I don’t know. But Australia will be the last place they’ll expect ya to make an appearance, mate.”

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That terrible accent you just put on, was that your attempt at sounding Aussie?”

“Good, weren’t it?”

“If you were trying to sound South African, it was fanf*ckingtastic.”