The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(73)
Two babies. I didn’t know until she said it earlier; they lost two babies. I let out a deep breath. How much pain and heartache can one person endure in a lifetime? Fuck, between the pair of us, we’ve lost one husband, one wife, three babies and had a parent murdered. That’s f*cked, totally f*cked. I want to make her happy. I want her face to light up when she sees me. When I call her, I want to hear in her voice that she’s happy to hear from me. Fuck, I want her to be ecstatic and I don’t know that I will ever be that to her. I don’t know if I will ever be ‘the one’. She’s told me she loves me, but I know her. I remember how idealistic she is about love. I remember how convinced she was that she could never love anyone other than Sean, but then that night in my office, all those years later, she admitted to me, that she’d loved me, that she’d always loved me and I don’t want her just falling back on that, thinking because Sean’s dead, that I’m her only option.
I adjust myself as I’ve got a f*cking hard on now thinking about that night in my office. God, that was one of the best f*cks of my life, bare back, nothing between us. She’s the only bird other than my wife I’ve ever f*cked without a condom in my life. So how the f*ck is Tamara pregnant with my kid? Well, that thought sorted the hard on out at least. I can’t believe that Tam would lie to me about something like that, but at the end of the day, she’s got a habit, an expensive habit and most junkies are liars. In fact, I would go as far as to say, all junkies are liars. Don’t get me wrong, if the baby’s mine, I’ll hold my hands up. I’ll pay for whatever costs are involved in raising a child and I’ll be hands on and a part of their life. I just wish that the situation was different, that Tamara wasn’t the mother.
I look at Georgia’s beautiful form curled up like a kitten, my Kitten, and wish that it was her belly my baby was growing in. My throat, my chest and my balls tighten at that thought. I wanna cry. She actually makes me wanna cry. I wanna love her, worship her, make her mine. I wanna take away all her pain and replace it with love, happiness, rainbows and f*cking unicorns, whatever it takes. I want to give her babies to love and nurture. I wanna give her the world, but until I can be sure she’s not gonna rip out my heart and walk away again, I can’t give her any of that. Right now, I’m scared that even touching her will be too much, will take me to a place that I won’t ever come back from. I need to stop thinking like a cunt. I’m Cameron f*cking King, East End bad boy, turned respectable night club owner and international playboy according to the papers. I need to start thinking about all the women around the world that do want me and not worrying about what I’m gonna do if the skinny little thing curled up next to me don’t.
She stirs and moves slightly, and now I can see her bra and I’m f*cking hard again. I look away, for about all of five seconds. I can’t help it. I have to look again. It’s black and lacy and just covers her nipple. “Ahhh God,” I groan out loud. I’m acting like a twelve-year-old getting his first glimpse of a real tit. Actually, I was only ten when I saw my first real pair. Sandra McQueen they belonged to. Robbie was f*cking her in the toilets over the park and I walked in on them. Robbie told her to flash me so I’d go away. Two years later, I was in the same bog with her getting my first wank. Then on my thirteenth birthday, Rob gave her a can of Diamond White to give me a blow job. About six months later, she let me f*ck her for free. Sandra McQueen, I wonder what ever happened to her?
My eyes wander back to the person curled in my passenger seat. A million thoughts rush through my mind, a million feelings rush through my heart. I’m so out of my comfort zone here. All this emotional bollocks, about a bird, it just ain’t my thing. When she left before, I just got pissed up and shit faced to numb the pain. Then, once I’d dried out and detoxed, the doctor gave me some tablets. No idea what they were, but basically I felt like I was on a gram of whiz a day. I had so much energy that I was able to throw myself into work. I sold Kings and started looking for premises to start something new, and for ten years I’d been fine. I was off the meds and feeling fine; the clubs were doing well. Sydney was in the pipe line and women were falling at my feet. Threesomes, foursomes, even a couple of orgies and anything went. Most of them were up for anything, some of them wanted some proper kinky stuff. I don’t mind a bit of bondage, and I’m pretty good with a paddle and a whip; there’s just something about watching a woman’s skin turn pink and hearing them moan with pleasure as you slap their arse, dipping a finger inside along the way, but I draw the line at bodily fluids; that ain’t a result of being horny. Shit and piss just ain’t my thing. The rest is all right though.
My phone buzzes in my lap. I’ve put it on silent so I don’t wake up sleeping beauty.
“What’s happening, Ben?”
“Yeah, you were right boss. There was about eight of them waiting but we’ve give ‘em the nod that you’ve gone to a travel lodge near Lakeside and they’ve all cleared out, but you better get back here sharpish in case they come back.”
“Cheers, Ben, wait in the car park for us just in case. I’m about ten minutes away.”
Chapter Seventeen
Georgia
I open my eyes to the sensation of the back of Cam’s finger stroking my face. My eyes instantly lock with his as they open. He’s so close. I would only have to move a fraction and my lips would be on his, and to be honest, I really don’t know if that’s what he wants from me. I know he stood up in front of my family and said that he did, but I just get the feeling that he doesn’t, and apart from that, we still need to discuss the big fat elephant in the room: the pregnant girlfriend.