Carnage: Book #1 The Story Of Us (Volume 1)(139)



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The following weekend is when we were due home and I’d completely forgotten the boys were off to France to play at some sporting event. I really don’t feel like getting on another plane so soon after the trip back from Australia so instead I arrange a girls night out with Ashley and Jimmie, as luck would have it, the boys record label have invitations to a new club opening in Shoreditch.

We all meet up at the Docklands penthouse, the boys still own it and we all use it at various times after nights out in the city when we need somewhere to crash. It feels like years since we’ve all gotten ready together like this, probably because it is. We take forever as we talk and drink and have a general catch up, we’ve spoken on the phone almost daily since I’ve been back in the country but I haven’t seen them in almost a year and there are a few tears as soon as we set eyes on each other. By the time we finally make it down to the car, where Dave is waiting to drive us, it’s already eleven thirty pm and we’re all well on our way to being legless.

The club is a warehouse conversion, pretty much like every other building in and around East London but it looks great, the sound system is pumping and the girls are desperate to dance. I did a pregnancy test this morning, just to make sure and as it was negative, I joined my girls in a couple of lines of coke before we left and I’m now feeling the effect and can’t wait to hit the dance floor. The place is full of celebrities, actors, models, footballers, pop stars and the usual bunch of glamour models that always seem to get invites to this type of thing. The waiters and waitresses come around with an endless supply of champagne and there’s a free bar for anything else. While the girls are still on the dance floor, I head to the toilets and on the way back decide to grab us a round of shots. I stand at the bar waiting to be served when a shiver goes through me, before I get the chance to wonder what could have caused it a deep voice says right into my ear.

“Good evening Kitten, hope you’re well?”

My stomach hits the floor for a few seconds but then my cocaine enhanced confidence finds its voice and without even looking at him I say, “Tiger, how the f*ck are you?”

“Really Kitten, that’s so unladylike.”

“Tiger, I think we established many years ago, that I’m no f*cking lady.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, in which time I finally turn my gaze to him, he looks af*ckinmazing, he’s wearing a black suit with satin lapels, a black shirt and a black satin tie. He’s standing so close that I can smell him, he smells delicious, still wearing the same Givenchy aftershave that he always has, it instantly reminds me of my bed at my flat above the shop, and all the things he did to me in it.

“You look beautiful Georgia, absolutely stunning.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself Tiger, how ya doing? You look a whole lot better than the last time I saw you, that’s for sure.” I want to reach out and touch his face, run my hands over the beard he has growing there, it really suits him. “I love the beard.”

He ignores my beard comment. “I owe you an apology and a thank you, regarding the last time you saw me.”

I shrug and knock back the first of the three shots that have been placed in front of me. “No apology necessary, no thanks required, you would have done the same for me.”

He nods his head slightly, in a way I remember so well. “I would and more, I would’ve done so much more for you, given the chance.”

“Don’t Cam, I’m so sorry the way things turned out, the way you found out, please don’t make me feel worse than I’ve done all these years.”

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