The Story of Me (25 page)

Cam opens the front door and the icy December chill hits me instantly as I step outside and towards his car. Neither of us have said a word to each other and I feel nervous after all of my revelations earlier. Cam holds the door of his car open for me and I slide inside. I have no idea what type of car it is, but it’s beautiful. Low, sleek and black, the interior is all cream leather and smells of Cam. There’s a crown type emblem on the steering wheel and I wonder if he’s had it custom made.

“What make is this car?” I ask him as he climbs in. He’s so tall, I’m surprised that he fits. He turns to me as he does up his seatbelt.

“It’s a Maserati Spyder. Why, d’ya like it?” He starts the engine and the dash lights up. He turns his head back towards me, waiting for an answer.

“I love it. Did you have the steering wheel custom made?” I watch as he turns the car effortlessly towards the gates at the front of my parents’ property.

“No, the steering wheel’s standard. What makes you ask that?” He has a slight smile on his face and it makes my heart do that little skipping thing; it’s like it misses a beat and then takes two extra fast ones to try and catch up.

“Because of the crown on the steering wheel.” He frowns again, while slowing the car down so he can undo his window and press the button to open the gates. He stops the car and looks at me for a moment.

“I don’t understand. Why would I have a steering wheel custom made with a crown on it?” I thought I was the one with jet lag and unable to think straight.

“Because your surname’s King… King, crown.” I shrug, not understanding why he doesn’t get the connection. He throws his head back and gives me that big booming laugh of his, and God, it does things to me. I’ve never been so turned on by a laugh before.

“Kitten, King is just my surname. If I was to have a custom made steering wheel made to represent me, it would have a little He-Man on it, coz I’m not just King of the world; I’m Master of the fucking Universe.” I laugh and shake my head. “Why you laughing? You fucking know it’s true.”

I continue to shake my head. “Just drive. Tiger, just drive.”

We pull out of the gates, and all hell breaks loose. There’s paparazzi everywhere and cameras are flashing. There’s banging on the doors and windows and people shouting, “Georgia, can you confirm that you’re in a relationship with Cameron King?”

“Georgia, is it true you spent the night in a Sydney hotel room on the anniversary of your husband’s death?”  

“Fuck,” I hear Cam say as he just misses someone standing right in front of the car taking a photograph. He puts his foot down and pulls quickly away but not before I hear someone ask “Is it true that your marriage was a sham and you were having an affair with Mr King the whole time?”

Cam must hear it too as he reaches out and takes my hand. “Ignore them, Georgia. They will print whatever they wanna print, whatever we confess or deny. It’s what they do.” He kisses the back of my hand, while still watching the road. I think we’re both worried someone else will jump out of nowhere and in front of the car to get a picture. “You okay?” he asks. I nod. I need to call my family to warn them so I press Marley’s number on my phone.

“You changed your mind about gangsta man already,
Porge?”

“Fuck off, Marls. Listen, there’s a shitload of press at the front gates. I just wanted to let you know as you’ve got the kids with ya.”

“Fuck, thanks for letting us know. I’ll ring Len to get some security out there.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, but I know my brother better than I know myself, and I know that he wants to say more.

“George?”

“Marley?”

“I’m so sorry if you think I’ve smothered ya. I just thought it was my job. It’s what was always drummed into me when we were growing up.” I remain quiet and let him have his say. “I love that you’re moving on with your life. I really do, but I’ll be totally honest and tell ya, I fucking hate it too.”

“I understand, Marls. I do. It’s hard for me as well, but getting away has made me realise that what’s done is done, and no matter how I live the rest of my life, it won’t bring Sean back.” I’m mindful of what I say as I don’t want to hurt Cam’s feelings or make him feel that he means less to me than what he does.

“I love ya, little sister Georgia. You’re by far the bravest, wisest person I know.”

“I love ya too, big brother Marley. You’re by far the joint first with Len and Bails best brother a little sister could have.”

“Fuck off, joint first. I’m the best and you know it! Oh, and thanks for telling everyone about mine and Ash’s sex life. I’ve got Bailey on my case now, asking about how he can convince Sam to let him watch while she gets it on with another bird.” I smile and shake my head. My cheeks flush as I think about what I did in Australia.

“What the fuck. Marls? What is it about men and threesomes? Why does every man want to watch his missus with another bird?” I look at Cam, his face expressionless, his eyes on the road, but there’s just something about the set of his jaw that makes me think that he’s not enjoying this conversation.

“Why do dogs bark and wheels go round, George? It’s the same answer; they just do. I don’t know why. That’s just the way it is. Anyway, I’m not having this convo with my little sister as she drives off to spend the night with a bloke with a nine-inch dick.”

I can’t resist winding him up, “It’s nine and a half actually and I love it. Gotta go. Love ya guts, bye.” I end the call and look at Cam who has one eyebrow raised as he gives me a quick glance.

“You really just had that conversation with your brother?”

I smile as I think about the look Marley would have had on his face as I said that. “It’s Marley. He’s my best friend.”

He nods. “You’re lucky to have them all.”

“I know. Going away made me realise how close we are, but it also made me realise how reliant I am on all of them and I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to find my own place to live and move out.” I’ve been thinking about it since I first arrived in Australia, and now I’m home, I need to do something about it.

“Move in with me.” Seriously, did he just say that?

“What?”

“Move in with me.”

“Cam, I… No, we still have a lot of things to talk about. I don’t even know where you live, and no, just no.”

He shrugs like it’s exactly the answer he was expecting and says simply, “We’ll see.” I’m not in the mood for getting into an argument with him so I simply ask him again where he lives. “Docklands, not far from the club in Shoreditch. My office is there now too.” I nod, but I’m not sure if he can see me in the dark. I’m suddenly overcome with tiredness and close my eyes for a few seconds.

Cam

I have no idea why I did that. What the fuck was I thinking?

I do love her, like I told her, like I told her whole fucking family. I love the fuck out of her, but I’ve no right standing up in front of all of them and making promises I don’t know if I can keep.

I’ve pulled up on the side of the road and called Benny to go and check out my place. I’m worried that the paps will be waiting for us there. I don’t know if they realised it was me in the car with her, but I’m sure it won’t take much for the fuckers to find out. I yawn quietly. It’s so warm in the car; it’s making me feel tired, but I can’t have Kitten getting cold. I turn and look at her sleeping in the passenger seat next to me. She’s laid the seat back a bit and pulled her knees up, turned on her side and is facing me. My stomach churns and my heart rate speeds up and all I’ve done is look at her. I’m fucked, completely fucked where she’s concerned. She ruined me once and she has the potential to do it again, and I don’t know if I’d come back from it this time.

She was just a girl back then, a beautiful twenty-year–old, who thought she knew everything about love and life, and really, she had no fucking idea. Mind you, who am I to talk? I’m forty-fucking–two. I’ve just stood up in front of all her family, like a prick, and declared my undying love for her. I must’ve sounded like a complete Muppet. If I ever find out Bailey Layton tells anyone about what was said at Frank’s house today, I’ll have his balls, and I don’t care who it pisses off.

I yawn again and look at my phone. It’s only seven, but the warmth of the car and the jet lag are having an effect on me now too. All I want is to get her naked and in my bed. I don’t even care about fucking her. I just want to feel her skin on mine. I give a silent little laugh; that’s complete bullshit. I can’t wait to bury myself inside her. I’ve fucked a lot of women over the years, a lot of women, but none have tasted as good or felt as perfect to be inside as Georgia. I wish I could explain. I wish I could get my own head around what it is about her. She’s beautiful, yeah, that goes without saying. Her eyes are the most amazing shade of blue and in complete contrast to her dark hair and skin. She’s actually a bit skinnier than how I like my women, and to be honest, at the moment, I’d go as far as saying she’s actually bony, but she’s been through a lot and it’s obviously taken its toll. I know how that works. I have half an idea of what she’s been through this last year, but only half. I didn’t love Chantelle the way she loved Sean. She was obsessed with that boy. It’s like, she thought she needed him to breathe, yet here she is, surviving, getting by without him and herein lies my problem. How do I compete with a dead bloke, a fucking superstar rocker, loved and worshipped by millions, none more so than his wife? How do I compete with that? I can’t. I’m always gonna be second best. I’m always gonna wonder if we’re together just because he died. I’m not bitter towards him, Sean, in all honesty. I love the girl that much, that I would gladly die in his and their baby’s place, just to bring the light back into her eyes.

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 fucked, totally fucked. 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 fucking hard on now thinking about that night in my office. God, that was one of the best fucks of my life, bare back, nothing between us. She’s the only bird other than my wife I’ve ever fucked without a condom in my life. So how the fuck 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fuck 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.”