Page 97 of The Story of Me
I hate the woman. How she got pregnant is still a complete mystery to me. I’m sure I would’ve noticed if the condom had split the last time I fucked her in Ibiza.
If it wasn’t for the fact that the baby’s mine, I would’ve cut all ties but I can’t. She’s going to be released from the unit she’s been in in the next couple of weeks. I’ve had the best head doctors involved in evaluating her, and they all seemed to agree she’s ready, and she can be trusted with the baby. I’m still not convinced. She may be clean, but that’s only because she’s been locked up and had no access to drugs. Now that she is being given some freedom and allowed out on her own, she is being tested every couple of days. Tamara may be an addict, but she’s also smart and devious and probably prepared to go to great lengths to get out of that place.
I sit down on the edge of the bath and rub my hair dry with a towel, suddenly feeling drained. How do two people manage to attract so much drama in their lives? Sean’s death, the fact that Georgia and I had got together, Tamara having my child, this bird at the airport last year now crawling out the woodwork. Just one thing after another, and all of it, apparently, worth at least a whole page spread in the tabloids.
I knew there would always be press attention surrounding Georgia because of who she was married to, but I never thought the press would turn their attention to every little aspect of my life the way they have.
I let out a long sigh and rub my hand over my beard. I’ve not shaved since I’ve been away. Georgia loves me with a beard, but she hates that in-between stage. She always complains that my whiskers are spitefuland make her nose itch. Funny that she never complains when I scrape them up the inside of her thigh and over her clit. My cock twitches at that thought.
I stand and head towards where she’s sleeping, sitting as quietly as I can next to her on the bed. I gently brush her hair from her face and watch as she licks her lips. Her phone lights up on the bedside table. It’s obviously on silent and she’s got untold missed calls and messages. Anger boils inside me as I see it’s Tamara trying to call her now, but then I wonder if it’s an emergency with Harry and that’s why Tam’s now calling Georgia’s phone. I walk out to the landing and answer.
“Tamara, what the fuck’s wrong?”
“Cam?”
“Yes, Cam, who the fuck else were you expecting?”
“I… What are you doing? Why are you with her?” Oh, please, this bird seriously gives my arse a headache.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be with her, Tamara? What d’ya want? Is Harry okay?”
“I just thought that with what the papers are saying that—”
“It’s old news,” I cut her off. “The newspapers are reporting on something that happened last year, before Kit… before Georgia and I were back together.” I’m so tired, I just want to fall into bed now, feel Georgia’s skin on mine and go to sleep. “Is the baby okay?” I ask again.
“The baby’s fine, Cam. We miss you.” She’s so full of shit.
“I’ll try and get over to see him tomorrow. Kiss him for me. I need to go.” I end the call before I have to listen to her whiney reply and turn back to the bedroom.
Georgia’s sitting up in the middle of the bed, back against the headboard, her knees pulled up, her arms wrapped around them. The bottom half of her face is resting on her knees and she’s looking over the top of them at me with her big blue eyes.
“Kitten,” I sigh out her name while walking towards her. She raises her head and narrows her eyes.
“Stay the fuck away from me. How’d you know I was here?”
I stop in my tracks. I don’t know why I thought this was going to be easy. This is Georgia I’m dealing with after all. She’s never been known for her reasoning skills when she’s pissed off, or at any other time come to think of it.
“I didn’t know you were here. Everyone’s been worried sick and looking for you.” I’m still wearing nothing but the towel that’s wrapped around my hips and I watch as she looks me up and down. She might be pissed off with me, but she also wants to fuck. I have an instant hard on, but her eyes are back on mine and she hasn’t noticed it yet. “Did you know your phone was on silent? Your family were worried sick. They went to Marley’s place looking for you after Benny said that’s where he dropped you off. The doorman told them you left in a cab…” I feel my jaw tremble. I’m feeling pissed off with her for scaring us all. I’m feeling relieved that she’s okay, and I’m feeling guilty that I’ve caused it all. Fucking feelings, I hate feelings, all of these ones anyway. “No one knew where you were. You did what you do best. You put your phone on silent and ran the fuck away, leaving the rest of us to worry ourselves sick.” I don’t want to shout. I don’t want to be angry with her, and I’m not, not really. I’m angry with myself, with the situation.
“Don’t you fucking dare shout at me. I couldn’t go home. You know, home, that place we bought together; that place we’ve spent the last six months turning from a house to a home. That place we will hopefully be raising our kids in? Yeah, that place. I couldn’t go there, because it was surrounded by fucking journalists, wanting to know about the blow job you got in a toilet in Sydney.” She swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand and I want to go to her so badly, but she’s too angry. So I stand still and let her have her rant. “I forgot my phone was on silent, because while a dozen paps were telling me about your sexy time in an Aussie carzey, I had your psycho cunt of a baby mumma, ringing me up and laughing at me down the phone.” I raise my eyebrows at her use of the word cunt and I know that she’s really pissed off now. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare raise your eyebrows at me for using the c word to describe that woman. She might be the mother of your child, but she’s still a cunt, a fucking crazy, psycho bitch cunt.”
She’s screaming at the top of her lungs to the point where I can hear her voice becoming hoarse. She stands up on the bed, jumps down onto the floor, then pulls the lamp off the bedside table and throws it at me. I step aside and watch as she pulls the pillows off the bed and throws them at me. She then startspulling the sheet and the thing that goes under it, the mattress cover thing, she pulls both of them off and tries to tear the sheet in half, all while I just stand and stare. I say nothing, do nothing, because I know exactly how she feels. It’s how I felt when I punched that tree earlier.
When the sheet won’t tear, she jumps up and down on the spot in sheer frustration and lets out a loud scream. I struggle not to laugh, but she sees me. I’ve only ever seen her move so fast once before and that was when she hit Haley White in my club on the night we fucked. She cracks me in the jaw without me even seeing it coming, and I take a step back, but it’s her who screams out in pain, obviously hurting her hand as it makes contact with my jaw. I think that’s going to stop her, but she’s flipped and seriously lost the plot now as she picks up the lamp she threw at me earlier and swings it, aiming it at my head.
“Stop!” I shout at her, grabbing the lamp and pulling it out of her grip. “Calm the fuck down, Georgia.” She flies at me again. For fuck’s sake, what does she think she’s going to achieve? I’m almost six-feet-five and weigh around fifteen-and-a-half stone. She slaps my face hard, then digs her nails into the other cheek. Kicking and screaming at me all the while. I slap her around the face, not because I want to hurt her, but because I don’t know what else to do to calm her down. She steps back away from me, her arms hanging limply at her sides. She’s breathing heavily and crying. She looks thoroughly defeated as she looks at me, shaking her head and sobbing.
“Why? Why, Cam?” I shake my head and open my mouth to speak, but she continues, “Is this punishment, for what I did before, because I went back to Sean? Because I wouldn’t leave Sean?” She can hardly breathe. She’s sobbing so hard and it fucking breaks my heart that I’ve done this. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Let me know I wasn’t enough? She said I wouldn’t be. She told me and I thought I knew you better than her, but I don’t. You only left ten days ago, just ten days apart and you do this. Why the house? Why the IVF? Why go through all of that then go into a toilet, a fucking toilet, Cam, and get a blow job off some stranger?”
Fuck.She thinks this happened yesterday, no wonder she’s trying to fucking kill me.
I shake my head. “It happened last year, Kitten. It didn’t happen yesterday. It was when I was coming back from Sydney last time, not this time.”
She frowns and looks totally confused. “What?”
“When we left Sydney before Christmas. We spent the night in the hotel together. I was horny as fuck, then your psycho family showed up, everything went to shit and you fucked off in a taxi and left me.” She looks frail as she stands in front of me. My sweatshirt hanging from her skinny frame. I’d told her to eat properly while I was away, but I can see she hasn’t. Her face is tearstained. Her hair is sticking out at all angles and she looks just beautiful. She takes a few deep breaths and looks up at the ceiling.
“I got to the airport,” I continue explaining as I rake my hand through my hair and lick the corner of my lip. It’s bleeding again. “It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it and I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t. I was horny and pissed off. She offered. I fucked her mouth till I came and then I walked away. I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t touch. I didn’t even ask her name.”
