Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
MARLEY
Why the fuck I said yes to this, I’ll never know.
I was honest with Tori, the biographer bird. Spewing my guts to her was literal therapy, but Georgia wasn’t there for that. Apart from the times I attempted to plead my case when it all first happened, we’ve never actually spoken about it.
I don’t know what she knows because Maca’s not here for me to ask what he told her.
“Fuck you for dying, mate. Fuck you very much,” I say aloud as I lean against the timber handrail that runs around the decking on my sister’s property. I hear the door open behind me, but don’t bother to turn. I suspect it’s Ash, so I’m surprised when a large hand passes me a glass of amber liquid.
“Thought you might need this,” Cam’s deep rumble says beside me.
“Cheers,” I say, finally looking at him. He’s staring out across the garden, but I knock my glass against his anyway. “How the fuck can you stand listening to all this shit?”
He rubs his palm over the stubble on his jaw, shrugs, and lets out a long exhale. “Morbid curiosity? I’ve heard most of the stories, anyway. You lot don’t hold back when you get together, have a few drinks, and start wandering down the Saint Maca rabbit hole.”
“Saint Maca? He definitely wasn’t that, as my sister’s about to find out.”
“I think she’s more than aware.”
“Does she talk about him to you?”
Cam turns to face me and rests his hip against the handrail as he takes a sip of his drink. “Not as much as she used to, but occasionally a song will play, trigger a memory that she’ll share.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“Marley,” he starts on a sigh, or maybe just an exasperated exhale, like he’s my dad about to give me a bollocking.
“I’m a very possessive, red-blooded bloke with anger issues.
Of course I fucking mind, but I love my wife.
I want her to be able to tell me anything and everything.
I’m her safe place, and if that means I have to listen to stories from her past, memories she has of a man she knew intimately, was married to, then I’m here for it. ”
“You’re the one who deserves a Sainthood.”
He raises his brows while I recall some of the rumours I’ve heard about this man and his past and present reputation.
“Yeah, probably not,” I say with my own shrug.
“Her past is what makes her who she is. She loved him, then she loved me, she just didn’t know it. He came back, and she left me because she was still in love with him. What she didn’t realise is that never stopped her from loving me, too.”
I sip on my drink as I process what he’s telling me. “You’re saying that when she got back with Maca, once they were married, getting pregnant, she was still in love with you?” I realise, even as I finish asking the question, I’m unconsciously shaking my head in disbelief.
“I am.”
“How’d you know that?”
“She told me.”
“When?” A heat burns in my chest and warms my belly that’s not caused by the bourbon.
“Back then, and now.”
“So, what? You were having an affair?”
“No affair. Not that I didn’t try and fucking tempt her. I would’ve taken her any way I could get her at the time, but she wouldn’t leave him.”
“But she told you she loved you?” I let out a breath I’ve held on to for far too long. After the shit my sister put Maca through for an alleged infidelity, I don’t know how I’d handle finding out she’d had an affair during her marriage to my now-dead best mate. “Why?”
“I asked her. Asked her to leave him, to pick me. She told me she couldn’t because he owned her heart. So, I asked if she’d ever loved me.”
“And she said yeah?”
He tilts his head, rolls his lips together, weighing up his response. “You want the truth?”
I nod.
“She said, ‘Yeah, and I think I still do.’”
I let out a snorty kind of laugh and shake my head. “Fuck me.” I comb my fingers through my hair. “That girl. That fucking girl.”
“She’s a grown woman, definitely not a girl.”
“She’s my little sister; she’ll always be a girl.”
“She’s my wife, the mother of my children—”
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t want to get into a pissing contest over it.”
“Good, because as your wife pointed out, I’ve got a two-inch advantage, so I’d piss all over you.”
“Fuck off,’ I tell him in a way you can only tell the people you love. And I do love him, not just because of the way he loves my sister, but because he’s a fucking good bloke.
“You know,” I start, voicing something I’m still processing in my brain. “Everyone bangs on about this epic love story of Sean and Georgia’s, but yours is probably bigger, more epic. More…. Just more.”
“And that, Marls, is how I fucking deal with all this shit,” he says as he slaps me not-so-gently on the back.
“That’s how I can stand listening to all this shit because the world doesn’t know what we do.
They don’t know our secrets. Because I’m not famous, no one’s ever delved deeper into our story, and that suits me just fine. ”
He knocks back his drink, then turns and walks inside without another word.
“Motherfucker,” I say aloud to no one while releasing a small laugh.
“Fuck me, Mac, you know all of that?” I ask my dead mate.
The wind picks up, a fallen leaf rustles at my feet, and being Marley Layton, the infamous rock god, I let out a girly squeal and jump the fuck out of my skin.
The door goes again, and this time I know it’s Ash, my love, my world, my fucking queen.
“What are you doing out here on your Jack Jones?” she questions.
“I wasn’t. Cam was just here.”
She takes my glass from my hand and takes a sip of the bourbon, quickly pulling a face as soon as the contents hit her lips. I love those lips, love the words they speak, the way they brush against my skin, wrap around my…
“I don’t know how you can drink that shit,” she says with a shudder.
“This is Cam’s. It’s probably a three-hundred-quid bottle of some rare Kentucky bourbon that’s definitely not shit. You know you don’t like bourbon or whisky, anyway, so I don’t know why you even took a sip.”
She releases a sigh. I brace, because I know my wife and know there’s more to come.
“What’s with Makenzie Wild giving you the eye?”
And there it is.
“What?” I ask sharply.
“While you were on the sofa with George, she kept stopping taking her photos and just staring at you. George clocked it; I just asked her.”
“Babe,” I say, turning to face her fully. “Have you seen this face, this body? I’m a fucking icon. She probably can’t believe she’s in the presence of such greatness.”
“Fuck off. You’re old enough to be her dad. Besides, her actual dad’s famous, and her boyfriend’s famous, so I doubt she’s gonna be starstruck by an aging old rocker like you.”
“Cheers, babe. You’re just the boost my ego needed before going in front of the camera and baring my soul.”
“Shut up. I still love ya. I still fancy the pants right off ya, grey hair, wrinkles, haemorrhoids, all of it. You’re still my rock star,” she says as she slides herself between the handrail and me. She wraps her hands around my neck while I rest mine on her hips.
“I’d better be.” My eyes dance over her face as I take in her bluish-brown eyes—even after all these years, I still can’t decide if her eyes are more blue or brown—and her blonde hair. The colour is softer now, a mix of wheat, honey, and perfection. “I love you,” I tell her.
“You’d better,” she replies. “You ready for this?” she asks as her thumb brushes back and forth across my cheek and lips, making my dick twitch.
I capture her thumb between my teeth, making her squeal. My hips react by grinding into her. “No, but a shag might make things better,” I suggest.
She gives me an eye roll and a head tilt. “Are you not too stressed for that?”
“Never,” I tell her with a quick head shake.
“Seriously, Marls, are you okay with this?”
“Well, it’s going to be in the film, so…” I trail off with another shrug as I stare at her lips. “Just a blow job, then? That might help settle my—”
“Marley!” She literally stamps her foot as she says my name.
“Whaaat?” I whine.
“I’m worried. Worried for you, George, and how this might—”
The timber door slides open again, and I turn to see my sister stick her head out. “If you’re out here stressing and procrastinating, stop. I love you. You’re my favourite big brother, Marley. Nothing’s going to change that?”
“You high?” I ask her.
She holds her index finger and thumb up to indicate a tiny bit.
“What the fuck, Porge? Why wasn’t I invited?”
“I just had a couple of puffs with Kenzie. I thought you were out here having some kind of existential life crisis and didn’t want to disturb you,” she says while wearing what I know is her slightly stoned smile.
“Exo-what?” Ash questions.
“Don’t worry about it,” George reassures her. “Just get your arse in here when you’re ready. I love you. I might wanna batter you after this is done, but I’ll still love you.”
When I walk back inside. Cam’s resting his arse against the kitchen island counter thing, Georgia’s back to his front.
His arms are wrapped around her, her hands on his covering her belly while his chin rests on the top of her head.
He’s grounding her. Like he said earlier, he’s her safe space.
The way he’s holding her right now is his way of keeping her calm before we sit down in front of Dan again.
“You ready?” the man himself asks as he approaches.
“Just need a piss,” I announce.
“Really, Marls, did we all need to know that?” Ashley asks.
“I didn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity of holding it for me?” I arch my brows suggestively at my wife. She arches hers right back.
“I love both you and your dick, but no, thank you.”
“Shake it for me then, just a little…”
“Marley!” my wife and sister snap at the same time.
“All right!” I snap back. “Fuck me, what’s a bloke gotta do to get a little tug around here?” I mumble as I head for the bathroom.
Once I’m done, I wash and dry my hands before gripping the edge of the sink. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I begin to wonder how I got so fucking old while still not feeling any different to how I felt at eighteen.
Have you ever watched those interviews on the news with people who have reached a hundred, and they all say the same thing, that in their mind they’re still the same as they were when they were young, it’s just their body that’s aged? Well, it’s absofuckinlutely true.
“Forgive me, Mac,” I whisper. “I’m about to give up all our secrets and probably piss off your missus big time.
Although, technically, she’s not your missus anymore, she’s Cam’s.
Just remember that before you strike me down with lightning or whatever retribution you might be considering sending my way. ”
I end my one-way conversation when the noise level out in the studio increases and my nosiness gets the better of me.
When I head back to where everyone has congregated around the kitchen island, I see my brother and Jimmie have turned up.
My eyes meet Len’s, but when I smile, he frowns.
“You all right?” I ask as he pulls me in for a blokey cuddle and back slap.
“Yeah. Just heard you were about to dig your own grave and thought I’d come and see if there was anything I could do to save the day.”
“I’m good. Not good, but… fucked if I know. It’s all going to come out in the film anyway,” I say as I step away.
“Not the same as sitting down next to her and saying it out loud, then having it broadcast around the world.”
I rake my hands through my hair as I take in the concern on my brother’s face.
“The thing is, Len, when people watch the film, all they’re going to see is what I did, the role I played, the things I said.
They can’t portray on film what was going through my head, the way I was feeling.
At least this way I can try to explain.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation, Marls. Especially not if it’s going to drive a wedge between you two.” He gives a quick chin lift in our sister’s direction.
“Surprisingly enough, she seems to be okay with it.”
“She’s stoned, and according to Cam, on her third or fourth Prosecco. What happens when that all wears off?”
I shrug in response. “A meltdown of Georgia proportions?” I add with the smallest of smiles.
“You prepared for that?”
I shrug again. “I’m not, but I’m confident the big man can handle her.”
Len returns my small smile with a bigger one until we’re both grinning.
“Love you, you fucker,” he says as he pulls me back in for another cuddle.
“Right, people, let’s do this. Marley and Georgia, back to the couch. Quiet from the rest of you, please,” one of Dan’s assistants shouts out.
Jimmie steps in and kisses my cheek while squeezing my arm.
“I’m good,” I reassure her. I’m totally not, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Georgia appears at my side. I take her hand and lead her back over to the sofa we were sitting on earlier. Our hair is messed with, a girl presses powder onto my face, then G’s, before adding lipstick to her lips.
“Don’t I get any of that?” I ask.
The poor girl’s eyes widen as she looks from the product held between her fingers, to me, to G, then around the room.
“He’s winding you up,” G says with an eye roll. “That’s not his colour.” She adds a wink.
The girl gives a small smile, nods, then scurries away.
My sister’s hand finds mine again.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I’ve never not loved you. Even when I was ruining your life, I still loved you.”
“I know,” she replies with a swift nod. “You were young and dumb—”
“I was a fucking idiot,” I interject.
She purses her lips and blows out a long, slow breath. “We all were, Marls.” She turns and finally looks at me. “Every single one of us.”
Daniel takes his seat, and we both sit up straight and face him.
Georgia doesn’t let go of my hand.