The Letters (Carnage #4) (10 page)

Today was both a good and a bad for me, Georgia. Today, we met our son. We listened to his heart beating loud and strong, and although they told us it’s too early to tell, I know with 100% certainty, there’s a Beau in your belly not a Lilly.

I am so happy, G, in a way that I can’t even put into words, and words are usually my thing, ya know? They’re sort of what I do, but I can’t come up with anything that can adequately express to you the absolute love, joy, and pride I feel when I think of you carrying our son, all tucked up safe and warm in that little belly of yours.

You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful pregnant woman I have ever laid eyes on. Actually, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on full stop. You were pretty when you were a little girl, (I say that in a non-pervy way of course) now, though, you’re simply stunning.

You take my breath away. You really do.

Leaving the hospital with your hand in mine, I felt like I was king of the world.

And then we went to lunch.

And things went to shit.

It was his fucking house, G!

Why the fuck would you NOT tell me something like that?

Why?

I know you’ve given me your explanation, but I’ve gotta tell ya, I think you’re lying. I don’t know why, but something in my gut just tells me I’m not getting the whole story here.

And you know what else I think, G?

Cameron King is bang in fucking love with you.

I knew it the night he turned up at the club when we first got back together, but you had eyes for only me, and to be honest G, I just felt a little bit sorry for the bloke. I knew only too well what it felt like to lose you, so I knew what he was about to go through.

After a while, I forgot that the man even existed. In all the years we’ve been back together, I’ve never doubted your love for me, not until last year when you lost the baby.

I thought I’d lost ya, G. I really thought we were done. You pushed me away time and time again until it got to the point where I almost stopped pushing back.

Almost.

And it was the thought of that poor fuck that made me not give up.

You remember that night you went out with the girls and ran into Haley White and you gave her a smack in that club Cameron King owns?

I saw one of the pictures from that night, G. It was a photo of you and of him. He was saying something into your ear and you were laughing, but it wasn’t that that bothered me. It wasn’t you or what you were doing. That wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the way he was looking at you as you laughed.

It’s the way I look at you.

I knew then that I had two choices.

I could continue to let you keep pushing me away until it got to the stage that I stopped pushing back. Until I just walked away and left you in your misery, loneliness, and depression.

Or I could fight for you and for us, for everything we had ever been through.

And you know what made me fight, G? I knew that as soon as I stepped aside, he would be there. He would be there to pick you up and put you back together, and I would be the broken-hearted one standing in the shadows and staring from the sidelines, just waiting for him to fuck up so I could be the one to step in and reclaim.

Because after today, Georgia, after watching him, look at you, at the the restaurant today, I know for a fact that Cameron King is just waiting. He’s waiting for me to fuck up or for you to just up and leave me and go back to him. He’s sitting tight and biding his time.

He knows there’s something there between the two of you. He knows that because you let us buy and move into his house all behind my back. You gave him hope today. When he realised I didn’t know shit about him owning this place, it made him think it means something, and I’ll tell you what, G, so the fuck do I.

But here’s the thing, I’m going nowhere. We tried being apart, and it nearly killed the both of us, so that ain’t ever happening again.

So, here we are. You, me, and a baby on the way. This is our life, and that man will never play a part in it, not all the time we’re together, anyway—which will be always, because I never plan on letting you go.

In saying all of that, Georgia, I want you to know something. Like I’ve told you many times, you’re a beautiful woman. You turn heads; you always have, but I’ve gotta admit, he’s the only man I’ve seen look at you in the exact same way I look at you. It’s not about sex or the size of your tits, it’s about you. He only sees you. And ya know what that tells me, G? He’d love and look after you in the exact way I do. So, if we don’t make it, or if anything ever happens to me and we can’t be together for whatever reason and he steps up, steps in and offers to pick up the pieces and put you back together, then let it be him. It’d make me happier knowing you have someone like that to look after you if I ever couldn’t.

I love you, Gia, I really do. You drive me round the fucking twist. You’re spoilt and selfish and so fucking inconsiderate sometimes. You’re also the most loving, caring, loyal, and compassionate woman I know. I’ll take ya, whatever way I can get ya.

I’m gonna sleep now. I just needed to get all that off my chest because it’s been driving me nuts since we left the restaurant.

Good night beautiful girl x Good night baby Beau x

I threw up.

I sobbed so hard that the sandwich I’d eaten at lunch time came up.

That letter, that information was as hard to digest as that sandwich had obviously been.

I splash my face with water in the downstairs bathroom, rinse out my mouth, and then head to the kitchen to pour myself a large glass of wine.

I’m shaking from my head to my toes. Even my insides shake.

All of these years, all of the guilt. If I’d have only gone through that box when I was in Australia.

What if I had, though? If I’d known I had Sean’s blessing, would I have gone out of my way to seek out Cam? Would that knowledge have changed the course of our relationship if I’d gone chasing after him?

I gulp down the glass of wine and pour myself another before going up to my bathroom to take a shower. I put my music on and stand under the jets of hot water as “I Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd blasts out of the speaker above my head. The best thing about being home alone is being able to play my music loud without anyone moaning at me.

The kids like my music, mostly, although George had a strong aversion to The Jam, which makes me feel like I have failed as a mother in some small way, but he is, at least, a huge fan of The Clash, so I got something right with him.

For teenage girls, the twins have pretty good taste, they hadn’t been into Bieber until he brought out his
Purpose
album, which even I agree is pretty good. They like certain songs by 1D, but not everything. They love Ed Sheeran, The Weeknd, Chet Faker, and Ellie Goulding. Nothing that would make my ears bleed too badly. Harry loves his rap. Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Skepta, and Devlin are all on repeat on his playlist.

I am trying to focus on anything other than the words Sean wrote in the last letter I read. I feel like an enormous weight should’ve been lifted from my shoulders, but so far, I don’t. I don’t know how to let it go. The guilt has been around for so long that it has become embedded in my psyche, in my bones, part of my DNA.

An old song by the New Radicals comes on, and I sing “You Get What You Give” at the top of my lungs. It’s a feel good sort of song, and I smile as I belt it out.

Imagine Dragons’ “Demons” starts to play. I sob so hard that my legs stop working. I curl into the corner of our shower and cry until, once again, I start to heave.

That’s where Jimmie finds me twenty minutes later.

Without saying a word, she turns off the water, wraps me in a towel, and helps me stand. We walk out to my bedroom, where she sits me on the edge of the bed.

Thirty Seconds to Mars’s “Do or Die” is making the walls of my house shake.

Jimmie finds the remote to the sound system and turns it off.

“What the fuck happened, George?” she asks from where she’s now kneeling in front of me.

I point my finger to the ceiling and can’t help laughing when she says, “A song? A fucking song did this to ya?”

I smile up at her, tears still spilling down my cheeks.

“I love you,” I tell her.

“You pissed?” she asks, wearing a frown.

I shake my head. “I love that you knew that I meant music when all I did was point my finger to the ceiling.”

She smiles back.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Lemme get dressed, and I’ll show you.”

She stands and walks towards the door.

“I’ll go and pour us a wine. Ash should be here soon. Paige said she’ll be over once she showered and got herself together.”

“How is she?” I ask.

Paige has been modelling in South America for the last two months. While she was there, she got so sick that Jim had to fly over to be with her for a few weeks. She’d apparently recovered enough to finish the shoot but has flown home to stay with Jimmie and Len for a while.

“Too skinny and absolutely exhausted. Apparently, she has news but doesn’t wanna talk until she’s fully awake.”

She heads downstairs while I attempt to get my shit together.

Georgia

We’ve piled three beanbags in a circle on my office floor and are sprawled out on them. The pile of letters I’ve already gone through is sitting in the middle, and I have the last few I haven’t yet read in my lap. Jimmie, Ash, and I drink wine as we make our way through Sean’s words.

There’s been tears and a few “Oh George,” comments as they’ve read, and moments where we’ve each read lines aloud to each other. Sean was in Jimmie’s life for even longer than he was in mine. She got him for the four years we were apart, and his death hit her hard. My subsequent suicide attempts led to Jim seeking help for the depression she was in, and she’d spent a few years on antidepressant and antianxiety medication. She’d sought the help she needed and was in a good place nowadays.

I have no secrets from these two, except one, everything else about my life they’re aware of and I have no issue with them reading the letters. The only one I haven’t shown them yet is the one that caused my melt down earlier.

A lot of the letters Sean’s written are just notes really. Words that are short and simple

-.

I watched the sunrise over a lake in Italy this morning. I wish you were here to see it with me. One day, G, one day I’ll bring you back here with me and we’ll experience this together. I love, and I miss you.

Sean x

He kept his promise. We made a few trips to Lake Como over the years, and we always woke early and watched the sunrise when we were there.

I’m in the back of a big stretch limo. It’s six in the evening and the streets of Paris are gridlocked. Our hotel is only supposed to be a half-hour drive from the airport, but we spent an hour signing autographs and posing for pictures before we could even leave, and now we’ve been sitting here in traffic for an hour, barely moving. I’m so over it, G. I’m sick of the travelling. I wish you’d change your mind and fly out here and meet me. I understand you don’t like this city, but shit, babe, it was five years ago. We’re together, all of that shit’s behind us. I’ll call you when, or if, we ever make it to the hotel. I miss you. I’m thinking of you. I just wanted you to know.

Love ya, G.

Sean

X

I tilt my head up and stare at my cloud-covered ceiling, trying to remember when he could’ve written this. I rarely went to Paris with him. I know it’s pretty, but for me, it most definitely was
not
the city of love. For me, it was the city of Whorely.

I’d found a photo earlier, it is of no one in particular, just a wide-angled lens shot of what is obviously back stage somewhere. I’d spotted the back of Sean’s head and a side view of Marley, but the face that had jumped out at me was that of Rocco Taylor. The man who had set out to ruin my life. I’d ripped the photo into tiny pieces and thrown in the bin. Then just for good measure, I’d emptied it into the sink and set light to each and every piece.

I knew he couldn’t hurt me. The evil bastard has been dead for a few years now. Accidental drug overdose all alone in a hotel room. Shame it couldn’t have been something much more painful, but still, dead was dead right?

I shuddered, and just for a few seconds, I felt guilty for thinking ill of the dead.

Then I spat on the ashes that remained in the sink.

“Fucker,” was only word I could think of saying as I wiped my chin.

“Unbreak My Heart” by Toni Braxton is playing over my office sound system, and I have to smile at the way every song on my playlist—no matter the era or genre seems to be relevant to my life, whether this is divine intervention or pure coincidence, I have no clue.

“Did you talk to Cam about getting a bit of tox in your chops?” Ashley asks me, while sliding across my beanbag and putting her head in my lap.

I move the pile of letters that had been sitting there before answering.

“I did.”

“Blatant no?” Ash asks as I stare down at her.

“Not a blatant no. He asked me to wait until I’m fifty.”

“What, why?” Jimmie looks up from the letter she is reading.

I shrug my shoulders. “He reckons I don’t need it yet. He’s worried it’ll change the way I look and I won’t be happy with the results.”

“But just a little preventative won’t hurt. He won’t even notice.” This from Ash.

“I’m not fussed; I can wait until I’m fifty. It’s no biggie. Anyway, we’ve done a deal.”

Ash smiles up at me and wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, what kind of deal?”

“You finally gonna let him have anal if you can have Botox, G,” Jimmie asks with a grin all over her face.

“No. I’m bloody will not. Ladies, his King Dick has ruined my Mildred. I’m not letting it ruin my arse as well.”

“Oh, come on, George, you’ve never even squeezed …” Ash trails off, but I’ve already worked out what she was about to say.

“No, I haven’t ever squeezed babies out my vag, Ash, but I have had six-foot-five, and two hundred thirty pounds of pure male pounding a nine and a half inch dick into me for quite some time now, so no, my mildred is not as tight as it used to be, and no, that will not be happening to my arse. Can you imagine? It’d end up all lose and I’d be farting every time I bend over.”

“
Meeehhh
, what’s a few arse farts between husband and wife? It’s the fanny farts that crack Marley up.”

I spit my wine, barely missing Ashley’s face.

“Oh my god, Ash. It’s happened to me before, I just about died,” I admit. Glowing crimson at the memory.

“What, you varted? Was it during sex?”

This time I choke on my wine. I have tears rolling down my cheeks caused by both coughing and laughing.

It feels so good to laugh.

I nod my head, because I’m struggling to talk.

“We were in Fuerteventura on holiday and it was hot and sweaty, and I was just really wet. I was mortified, but Cam just laughed.”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? It’s only air, and it’s their fault any way for pumping it into ya. Marley just laughs and says, ‘What’s your next trick’ or ‘I’ll name that tune in three’.”

“I don’t have that problem anymore. Got it all taken care of.”

Ash and I share a look and try to straighten our faces before Ash sits upright and we both look at Jim.

“Wha’d’ya mean, ‘you’ve had it taken care of’?” Ash asks before I can.

Jimmie shrugs her shoulders.

“That little cruise Len and I took in February? We didn’t go on a cruise. We went over to the States, and I had a bit of reconstruction done.”

“On your Mildred? Why?” I ask in disbelief.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us? I would’ve come and had it done with ya.” Ash sounds genuinely put out.

“Did it hurt?” we both ask at the same time.

“Why? Because my poor little vag has had to squeeze out four Layton and one King head. Five babies, ladies. Those kind of numbers don’t leave things looking too pretty down there. I didn’t tell ya coz, well, you know. It’s a bit embarrassing. It’s all right you girls knowing but I didn’t want Cam and Marley knowing that I had a baggy fanny and could vart the national anthem.”

Ash and I get the giggles again. I lean forward and pull the wine from the ice bucket sitting on the floor between us. I share the last of its contents around.

“And I wouldn’t say it hurt. It was just uncomfortable for a few weeks until the stitches dissolved.”

“Was it worth it?” I ask, genuinely interested.

“Absolutely,” Jim replies without hesitation. “I now have a designer vagina. The Gucci of Coochies.”

“The Versace of Vagies,” Ash adds.

“The Louboutin of Labia,” I gasp out. Fighting for breath as we all laugh hysterically.

“The Prada of Pussies,” Jimmie cackles.

“The Burberry of Beavers,” I add.

“It comes with a matching brolly and a trench coat for when things get too wet.” I worry that Jimmie is gonna throw up as she laughs and talks at the same time.

“The Mimco of Minges.”

“The Vuitton of Vulva.”

“No, gag, hate that word,” I gasp out at Ashley’s last suggestion.

“What, Mimco?” she asks.

The noises we’re making don’t even sound human as we laugh and gasp for breath. I snort, which makes the other two laugh harder.

“The Saint Laurent of Snatches.” I don’t even know who says that last one, the voice sounds so strangled and I’m blinded by tears.

“The Cavalli of Cunts.” I just know that’s Ash.

We all lie back and gasp for air, the giggles and laughter still randomly breaking out.

“Oh my days, I needed that laugh,” I say to no one in particular.

I sit up straight, forcing Ash to get her head out of my lap, where she’s once again resting it, and take a sip of my wine.

“So come on, spill, Georgia Rae. What the fuck was going on when I got here earlier?”

I knew Jimmie wouldn’t let it drop. What I don’t know is how she managed to fill Ash in on my “moment” already.

“Yeah, what’s going on, Slutster? I’ve revealed my varting abilities, Jim’s revealed all about her designer vagina, now you need to spill the deets about your meltdown. What the fuck happened?”

Jimmie stands up. “Hang on, we need more wine for this.” She heads off to the fridge while I retrieve the letter from my desk.

Once we’re topped up and I’ve settled the girls side by side so they can read at the same time, I pass them the two sheets of paper.

They each take a sip of their wine and start to read.

Ashley looks up at me a couple of times. Jimmie’s hand goes to her mouth, drops, and then goes back a total of three times.

“Wow,” Jimmie states as she finishes.

“
Fuck
!” Is all Ash has to offer.

We all look at each other, shaking our heads.

“It’s like, I dunno. It’s almost like he had a premonition, but at the same time, he seemed convinced he wasn’t going anywhere,” Jimmie says.

“Yeah, but this is Sean. He’d do anything to protect and not worry me. If he had a feeling that something was gonna happen, he’d never have let me know.”

“How’d you feel, George, after reading that, how’d ya feel?”

I move from where I was leaning against my desk and sit back down next to the girls.