Page 3 of Marley
She wriggles around and faces me, reaching out to stroke the stubble on my cheek with the palm of her hand. Her soft fingers rubbing over my whiskers calms me down a little.
“Will you still not tell me what’s so bad? Is there stuff about you? You scare me when you won’t even discuss it with me. We’ve been together a long fucking time, babe. What’s past is past.”
I raise my eyebrows as I look at her. We both know full well that she’s full of shit.
“So, if you read something about me shagging someone way back when and we just happen to bump into that person, you’re gonna be fine with it?”
She pulls her head back so she can look me in the eyes. I notice that hers are shining, like she’s about to cry.
“Did it happen since we’ve been together?” She asks me quietly and my fucking heart breaks for her.
“What? No, babe. You know everything that you need to. You knew about it back then, when shit happened.” I sit up in bed and pull her up to straddle my lap. I feel ashamed. I treated Ash like shit when we were first together, mostly because I was terrified of what I was feeling for her, but partly because I’m a complete dickhead.
“See? This is why I can’t do it, not even for charity. If I write it, I want to be honest, I want to tell the truth and if I do that...” I trail off as I think about the damage it would do. “If I do that, then I’m gonna hurt a lot of people, including my sister. I’ve fucked up her life enough, and I’m not gonna be responsible for doing it again.”
Ash looks up at me from under her lashes. “But you’re not gonna tell me what it is that might upset G?”
“No,” I reply without hesitation. “I don’t want you having to keep things from her. I don’t want you knowing shit about Sean and worrying that she needs to know the truth because she doesn’t.” I press my forehead against hers. “We were young. We fucked up and then, even when we got a bit older, we still sometimes fucked up.” I meet her gaze and continue. “I’m still here, Ash. I can justify and explain my actions, but Maca’s not and I’ll never do that to him. I won’t hurt my sister and I won’t ruin Maca’s reputation. It’s just better for everyone involved if the book doesn’t get written.”
This whole argument has been going on between us since a publisher asked me to write my life’s story. They would cover the costs involved in editing, promotion, and whatever else needing to be done to bring a book to print and digital. All the proceeds would go to Maca’s, Music & More charity. It would probably bring in a lot of coin, but I can’t lie—if I’m gonna put it out there and publish the fucker, then I’m gonna want to be honest and tell the world the truth. And if I do that, people are gonna get hurt, especially my wife and sister, and I can’t do that to them.
“What if you just wrote it and made the decision after you finished it? Write it all down and then decide if it’s really as bad as you think it is.”
I smile at her. “You only want me to write it down so that you can read it. I’m not fuckin’ stupid, Ash.”
Her brown eyes sparkle as she smiles back at me. “I’d never do anything to hurt you, baby,” I tell her, “and if I was to write this book with honesty and from the heart, I can’t guarantee that I won’t do just that. There’s things that I’m not proud of—things that I don’t want you and the kids to read about.”
“Well that fuckin hurts in itself,” she says, her smile now replaced with a frown. “The fact that you’re keeping secrets from me fucking hurts, Marls.”
I can’t win. “Fine, have it your fuckin’ way. I’ll write the book so you can read about my life— the good, the bad, and the fuckin’ ugly, but don’t you dare complain to me that you’re not happy with some of the life choices I’ve made. I don’t wanna hear you complain about how ugly things have been for me.
I expect her to climb off my lap and storm off, but instead she surprises me by wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me. “Shut the fuck up and stop behaving like a martyr. It’s all in the past, but if it’s gonna help you, write it. If it’s gonna leave you miserable and depressed, walk away, babe, walk away.”
If only she knew that it’s already too late. The book has already been written. The second the publishers came to me with the suggestion, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I laid awake every night for weeks, going over past events in my head: the good, the sad, the bad, and the bits that are so fucked up, I don’t think I want anyone to know about ... ever. In the end, I decided to write down all of it—the truth about my life, Sean’s, my sister’s, and Carnage. I’ve been brutally honest throughout the whole process to the point where I’ve actually began to see things in a different light. I’ve finally accepted the part I played in fucking up and fucking with the lives of my little sister and of my best mate. Now, I just need to decide what the fuck to do with all these words that have the potential to break hearts, maybe even minds. Do I leave it as it is and tell the truth, or do the kind thing and leave bits out? I’ve hated lying to Ash, but I know that if she knew it’s already been written, she’ll force my hand either way and want to read it. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. I’m not even sure if I’m ready for anyone to know the ugly truth, especially Ashley.
Later, after making love to my wife, I abandon her sexy sleeping arse and slide out of bed and head silently down the stairs to my office. I fire up my laptop, pour myself a glass of my favourite single malt and sit back on the leather sofa. I begin to read what I’ve spent the last six months writing behind my wife’s back.
I skim through the prologue, which covers the early years, and jump straight into the part where things take off for us, and at the same time, fall apart...
CARNAGED
BY
MARLEY LAYTON
CHAPTER ONE
1985
I tilted my head back to let the ice-cold beer slide down my throat.
Fuck Len and his rules.
I wasn’t a fucking child and I wouldn’t be treated like one. Yeah, we played like shit the other night ... one night out of the whole tour so far. We didn’t sound our best and Lennon kicked off like a fucking lunatic, trying to keep us locked in our rooms and banning phone calls. This is Paris, and I’m gonna enjoy myself. We’ve worked bloody hard on this tour and we’ve more than earned the chance to have a bit of fun, so yeah, fuck him.
I turned around on my stool at the swim-up bar and watched as Rocco waded through the water towards me, waving a little plastic bag in the air.
“Big bro let you out to play today, Layton? Where’s your buddy? He too pussy-whipped by your sister to be allowed to join us?”
