“Fuck off. When?”
“That Christmas she was dancing with Rubi in the garden and I caught you thinking about chucking the turkey carcass at him.”
“That did not happen.”
“Fucking did.”
“Was I drunk?”
“Nah. You ate those mushrooms my ma grew in the airing cupboard.” Sadness laced Cam’s voice. “Life was wild back then, but somehow it seemed simpler.”
“It was simple because there were rules. And we still have those rules, brother. Your dad wouldn’t rat.”
“My dad ain’t here.”
Because this life killed him, his wife, and too many friends and brothers to count.
Was it going to kill us too?
Time would tell.
“Does she love him?”
I blinked, unsure of how long had passed since one of us had spoken. Six seconds? An hour? But despite the detachment fogging my brain, I knew who Cam meant. “Yeah.”
“Does he love her?”
“As much as he loves me.”
Cam lit another cigarette, blowing smoke into the night. He didn’t ask if I loved Locke. Had I already told him I did? Or did he just know? If there was anyone who understood the trifecta of affection I’d come to live for, it was him.
“That’s good,” he said eventually. “If anything happens to you, at least they’ll have each other.”
Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’d uttered those words to Orla a thousand times. Shit-damn, I’d got down on my knees andbeggedher to believe them. Why had I waited until this fucked moment to realise what a fucking joke they were? “What’s his name?”
“Who?”
“Bear the Copper.”
Cam exhaled a cloud of bitter smoke. “DetectiveCuntstable Lister.”
“Sounds like a wanker.”
“Yep.”
I sat up, ignoring the head rush, and hauled myself to my feet, restless anger sweeping over me, laced with a spiky dose of acrid cynicism. “I don’t care if he’s fucking MI5. To me he’s just a creep who stares at young girls.”
“That’s where I am on it too.” Cam rose, cigarette jammed between his lips. “I wondered if he did that shit on purpose. So it was all we’d remember about him and we wouldn’t notice anything else he did. But I know you. You thumped him for a reason, even if you can’t quantify exactly what it was.”
“He was going for Willow.”
“I know.”
“I shoulda fucking killed him.”
“You’d get life for that, brother.”
Reality descended on me again, harsh and heavy. Prison didn’t mean death, but it felt like it. “I’ll take them if I have to.”
