Perfectly Obsessed (16 page)

“Well they’d be wrong. We’ve lasted this, we’ll last anything. I’ll never let you go,” he promises.

“I don’t want to be let go.”

“Damn right you don’t,” he chuckles.

When he laughs this lightly I can’t help but laugh with him. It’s infectious. It sounds so cheeky and carefree.

“I wish you hadn’t of walked out today, I don’t think I can wait another month to see you,” he groans.

“Not long and you’ll see me every day.”

“I know.”

The line goes quiet and I know it is time to say goodbye for tonight.

“I really do love you Drake and I would change anything to have you here.”

“I know you would, I love you too, babe. I should go but same time tomorrow night?” he asks. I can’t remember a time that I haven’t been around to answer his call because there hasn’t been one yet he still asks this at the end of each call.

“Same time.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye.”

And the line goes dead.

“I’ve run a bath for you. You look like you could with a soak.”

I find Marg standing in the doorway, I became so focused on Drake I didn’t notice she left the room.

“Thanks.”

The water is just the right temperature when I dip my toe in, then slide in until my whole body apart from my head is submerged under the water.

I haven’t soaked in a tub for a long time and this is by far the best part of my day.

I have no right to worry about myself when I chose to come here with Drake and I certainly won’t allow it to affect me. I have no doubts that when Drake is released he won’t leave me high and dry like I hear about some men who get of prison and while they’re away they have girlfriends visiting them to pass the time and when they get out, they dismiss them because they don’t need them anymore. Drake will not do that to me. When he does get out I will have a home waiting for him. The money under this very bath tub I am laying in will more than cover a new lease and furniture if needs be. He is always strong and confident to look out for himself and so will I.

Chapter Seventeen - January 2005

Drake

I’m dripping with sweat from my morning workout in the prison gym and I am in desperate need of a shower. I only popped back to get my wash bag.

“You got a letter,” Tommy nods towards my bunk, keeping his eyes on his book.

I haven’t known anyone to read as much as he does, but hey, if that’s how he wants to pass his time, I won’t complain. The more he reads the quieter he is.

Using my vest, I half pull it up to wipe the sweat from my face and sit and see Cammie’s handwriting scrolled across the envelope.

“You want me to leave?” Tommy asks.

“Nah, you’re alright today.”

Since our bust up last month, everything has been good between Cammie and I. Our time apart got too much for the both of us and bottling it all up did neither of us any good.

We have just over a week until our next visit so we have written more letters than usual. Most of it is reassurance to each other that we are both fine and we are going to get through this.

We are looking at months till my release now, not years. I have kept my head down and stayed away from trouble, I don’t see any reason to have my parole refused.

The envelope is already open which I try not to let bother me that God knows who has already read this before I have and decide to have a shower after read what my girl has to say.

The first thing I notice is Marg’s address written at the top of the letter. Why the fuck is she writing from there? She hasn’t mentioned anything about it.

January 2
nd
2005                                                                       

Drake,                 

So it’s the second day of 2005 and we finally can see light at the end of this dark, horrible tunnel we are in. I brought a new calendar this morning and the first date I wanted to put in was your parole hearing date, I can’t wait until you have one. I actually did a happy dance around the kitchen which I will only admit to you. I am more than ready for you to come home and I am being nothing but positive that you will be soon. I tell myself every morning and every night before I go to sleep that we have less time to go than we have already done and it makes me feel a little better. I lost my strength during our last visit but I have found it and I assure you I will never lose it again. (I blame it on the Christmas fever and you, if you weren’t so gorgeous and lovable I wouldn’t miss you so much) I promise you that was all it was, me missing you and me loving you so much.

Okay, you ask for every detail so here they are…

Les reopened the café the day after Boxing Day and as much as you still don’t like it, I told him I would work as much as I could, apart from the afternoons when I come visit you. The days have been long and busy, and my feet have never hurt so much but for every pain I endure it makes the days pass in a blur and pass quickly. Les didn’t open on New Year’s Eve so Marg and I visited your mum and took her the prettiest pink Lilies. I told her you’ll come see her soon, we couldn’t stay for long because the weather was too cold but we’ll go back in a few days and have a clean-up. After we left the cemetery, I decided to head home and spend New Year on my own. Marg and William invited me to tag along with them to the pub to see the New Year in but I quickly declined. I don’t think I could’ve stomached that much enjoyment without you, especially as you’re the only one I wanted to kiss at midnight, not watch Marg and William get it on after drinking all evening.

I spent the night with a glass or four of wine watching bad TV waiting for the countdown, annoyingly I fell asleep half hour before midnight and woke up at ten the next morning with a pounding headache thanks to the wine.

Yesterday I spent feeling sorry for myself and didn’t move off the sofa unless I needed the bathroom or to get food. There’s not much to tell really.

Through our letters and our visits, we have gotten to know each other really well. I think with your parole coming up, we should concentrate on planning our future.

Tell me what your New Year’s resolution is? Mine is to not look back. Not on anything unless it is happy and to do with us both. It has been a long two years so far and now we are months away from being together I can’t stop smiling. Even though it hurts being apart and the loneliness is cold and unbearable I have never regretted walking away from everything I knew. I will always choose you Drake Deveroux. Your home has become my home and we are both waiting here for you. Never doubt that or me.

Don’t worry about Marg’s address at the top of this letter, our postman has been dumping mail and I don’t want to miss one of your letters because he can’t be bothered to do the job he’s paid to do.

I love you always,

Your Cammie xxx

I re-read the last paragraph three times before I carefully fold it back up and put it back into the envelope to keep with the others she has sent me.

She will always choose me. Don’t doubt her. Her home is now in London. She is waiting like she told me she would two years ago. Cammie Darcy is my fucking home and I’m more than ready to join her.

“This job of yours better pay off,” I tell Tommy, “I’m not coming back here. My girl isn’t living without me again.”

“Well, let’s go over the plan again,” he smiles.

Not only will I give Cammie every inch of me she needs but I will give her everything she deserves. That girl will not go without a thing ever again.

The water is lukewarm and the soap is cheap. My back is turned to the rest of the shower room but it doesn’t make me blind, or stupid.

Men to my right gather their toiletries and disappear half way through their showers, leaving me the only one under the water.

I hang my head under the spray and remain oblivious to the shift in the air around me.

“I don’t see what the big fucking deal is about him, all I see is a pussy,” I hear rinsing the soap out of my hair.

A deep laugh resonates behind me and sounds different to the previous voice I heard. There is at least two men behind me from what I can hear.

“Walking around like he’s a big man, he ain’t shit.”

The goading voice continues.

“I heard he’s keeping his head down so he can get out early.”

“Yeah, I heard that too. I would too if I had his girl waiting for me. Have you seen her? Cor, she’s enough to make you have wet dream like a fucking teenager.”

Now, they have my full fucking attention. Slowly, I turn to face them and I was right, there are only two of them and I already know I can take them both.

I stay under the shower. I don’t see why I should freeze my balls off for these dead men talking.

“Come on then, let’s have it,” I tell them, holding my arms out wide.

Two on one, and one being bollocks naked and dripping wet, they should be more buoyant about taking me on.

I grin menacingly and keep my stance tight and calm.

“What we waiting for?” I laugh, not moving.

“Afraid I’ll take you both out on my own? Show you little bitches who I really am?”

They look to each other and step back. This pisses me off more than them talking about Cammie. Don’t come and interrupt a man’s shower time and then back out like fucking pussies.

I step towards them and the second inmate matches my steps in the other direction.

I come nose to nose with the main instigator in this little charade and push my forehead against his. He stands his ground but I can see the fear in his eyes.

“Hit me,” I growl.

His eyes don’t waver from mine but he stays quiet.

“C’mon, fucking hit me you cunt. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Before he can answer not that I think he was going to, I bring my head back and smash it into his nose. His friend scarpers as he falls to his knees and covers his blood ridden face, streaming a flow of swear words about the pain.

Feeling content with the damage I caused, I return to my shower and lather my body in soap again.

I begin to laugh and his whines come to a stop.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t assume anything about anyone in here. Learn that and maybe you won’t end up crying in the showers. A broken nose is the least that could happen to you in here, get what I mean?” I laugh, turning my head slightly to see him backing up against the wall, still holding his nose.

“Now, fuck off. You’re dripping blood on the floor and I got to walk through this.”

He stumbles away and I turn the water off making plans to stop by Maxwell’s cell on the way back to mine.

I can’t fight myself for reasons that are now public knowledge, yet, it doesn’t mean I don’t have the cold, hard cash to pay for it to happen.

Chapter Eighteen – March 2005

Drake

There has been an electric buzzing surging throughout our wing of the prison for the last few days. It will kick off sooner rather than later and when it does I will be at the furthest point away from it all. In the days before Cammie I would have been the one who would have riled the inmates up just for something to do before the boredom drove me crazy. My parole is so close I can almost smell it. I remember telling her I wouldn’t change for anyone and that my way of life doesn’t bother me. Yet, somehow me loving her has changed me irrevocably. I never gave love much thought or how it would feel to be that close to someone. If anything I assumed love would make me weak and cloud all sense and responsibility out the window. In small ways I have changed since I met Cammie, I no longer feel the urge to act recklessly and just for the thrill. I have been able to decipher what is worth it and what is not. Prison rioting is not worth it. Tommy, surprisingly, isn’t geared up for it either. It seems not only is Claudia completely taken with him but him with her too. And this diamond job is serious not only to me, but to him too.

I carry on writing my letter to Cammie.

‘Two months babe, two fucking months till my parole hearing and I can’t wait. Each day feels like a month and a month drags on like a year. Your birthday tomorrow is the last one I am going to miss. Two and a half years we have been together and we have never shared a birthday, how fucked is that? If things were different, I would wake you with breakfast in bed and spoil you with gifts. I would shower you with them and of course, myself. We would do anything you wanted. It makes me angry knowing you won’t celebrate your birth the way you should because you feel your guilt over our separation doesn’t allow it. I am more than selfish when it comes to you and I need every part of you wanting and needing me but I never want you to be unhappy or feel guilty.’

My head snaps up as battle like cries echo around the place. Throwing down my pen I head out of my cell and lean over the rail on the landing. I spot Tommy taking the stairs two at a time up to our cell.

“It’s starting. Best stay up here out the way,” he says, taking up the spot beside me.

“How did it start?” I ask, watching two guys try to choke out the other down on the ground floor.

“One of Maxwell’s boys broke a pool cue and stuck it in a nobody’s neck. As soon as the screws came running, everyone was kicking off.”

Violence hangs thickly in the air as inmates fight amongst themselves and taking on the screws. If we weren’t on the second floor landing we would be able to see more, but from what I can already see from leaning over the rail, is it all looks standard.

“You’ve definitely changed, you know,”

I hear the difference between Tommy asking me and telling me.

“Oh yeah,” I shrug.

I know I have but again, the changes serve me a purpose.

“Before Cammie, you would’ve been all over this shit. You would’ve gotten off on it.”

I shake my head, “Not this time. I’ve done two years away from her and my parole is in less than eight weeks. I’m not doing a thing to fuck it up.”

“I guess we’re both growing up,” he chuckles at our resolve not to fight.

I roll my neck and look at my cell mate and friend. His huge frame intimidating to most, his shaven head and tattoos covering every inch of his body compared to my slim, lean frame. His laugh doesn’t match his look. It’s higher pitched then you would imagine.

I laugh along with him and stand up straight.

“I don’t think we’re choosing to grow up, we both have more on the out this time around, not to mention the pay day we’ve got coming.”

“About that, if you make parole,”

I cut him off, “When, when I make parole. There is no if.”

“Sorry, when you make parole. I’ll push forward with our plan. I’ll be out three months after you and then it’s a go.”

I nod once and I walk back into our cell and push the door shut.

I haven’t told Cammie about the diamond job, yet. I’m choosing to tell her after I am out and she can see for herself how this is a once in a lifetime job being so easy in my world. A walk in and walk out job.

I wake earlier than usual the next morning. I can’t be with my girl on her birthday but I can sure speak to her and I want my voice to be the first to wish her a happy birthday.

It is barely gone five a.m. when I key in her number on the mobile I managed to obtain through the black market circuit in this place. Trading three packs of cigarettes for ten minutes on the mobile that was tightly tucked under my mattress all night is worth it. Cammie is worth it.

I wait patiently as it rings.

“Hello.”

Her voice is thick with sleep and sexy as fuck.

“Happy birthday, babe,” I smile, keeping my voice low but loud enough for her to hear.

“Drake?”

I hear her moving about and clear her throat, “Oh my God, is that you?” she says, excitedly and more alert.

“It is,” I laugh.

“What time is it?” she asks.

There is something about catching her by surprise that I love and it is making me twitch.

“Just gone five, I wanted to catch you before you went to be a slave for the day.”

I don’t give her a hard time about working anymore, I don’t like it but I understand her need to keep busy.

“How are you calling me? Aren’t you meant to be locked up?” she asks, hesitantly.

“I got my hands on a phone just to speak to you. You should feel special, I handed over three packs of smokes for this,” I say, teasingly.

“I’m feeling the love,” she giggles, “I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now.”

This is why she is worth it, her elation just to hear my voice. She has never wanted me for my status or because she wanted me for something. She purely wants me for me.

“I wish I could talk to you every morning when I wake up,” she murmurs.

“You will real soon, I don’t think I have enough cigarettes to call you every morning. So, what are your plans today apart from working?” I ask.

“Just work, I told Marg I didn’t want to do anything so hopefully she’ll listen this year,” she groans, I picture her rolling her eyes.

Last year, I arranged for Marg to take her out for the day spoiling her with everything I wanted to give her myself. Then in the evening I gave Marg strict instructions to take her out and get her drunk so she wouldn’t be wallowing alone at home.

“I’m sure she got the message not to,” I chuckle, knowing to leave Cammie alone this year.

“She does have my present for you, I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will. This is so nice waking up to you on the phone.”

“Not much longer and you’ll be waking up to me beside you.”

“What if…” she sighs and carries on, “What if you don’t make parole?”

“Don’t,” I warn, “Don’t think like that, I’m coming home to you, Cam. Not making parole isn’t an option. Anyway, what happened to all your positive vibes?”

“You’re right,” she agrees.

Tommy snores a great big snort and the bunks make a racket as he rolls over blearily opening his eyes.

“I got to go, tell me you love me and promise you won’t work too hard on your birthday.”

“I won’t and I love you, Drake. Thank you for calling, although I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back to sleep now.”

“You’ll just have to lay in our bed thinking about me and all the things I will be doing to you when I get out,” I suggest.

“I do that on a nightly basis,” she admits and my dick painfully throbs.

“Fuck Cam, I’m dying here,” I groan myself.

Her giggle nearly tips me over the edge and I know our call is coming to an end.

“I should go before the credit runs out.”

“Okay, are you still going to call me tonight?” she asks.

“Of course I am, same time, okay?”

There hasn’t been a night I have missed calling her at six pm, I’m not going to start now.

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too, babe. Happy birthday and I’ll speak to you tonight.”

“Bye.”

And then the credit runs out. I hide the phone back under my mattress until I am able to hand it back to Maxwell at breakfast.

“Are you this soft with her on the street?” Tommy asks, his head leaning over his bunk looking down at me.

“I’ll be soft with her wherever I want to be, doesn’t mean I am soft.”

If anything I am hard. Very fucking hard and I am not thinking about my reputation.