Chapter 13 #3
Before the sound of my heart breaking at the thought of my husband feeling this way is heard by everyone in the room, Lennon speaks.
“Both. I’m grateful every fucking day that she has you, and that you rebuilt a girl, my sister, who I honestly thought was irreparable after losing Maca and Beau.
That you put her back together, that you love her so unconditionally, and because of that, I’ve grown to love you.
Like George said, one doesn’t detract from the other.
And I’m sorry that I’ve probably never told you that before.
Sorry that you’ve ever doubted your place in this family and how much you’re loved by all of us. ”
Len looks at Marley for backup. Marls looks from Len, to me, to Cam.
“What, you need me to come over there, sit on your lap, and give you a kiss?” Marls asks.
“I’m good,” Cam replies promptly.
“You sure? Coz I will if that’s what it’s gonna take for you to believe me.”
“Absofuckinlutely positive,” Cam assures him.
“Good, and while we’re holding our little family confessional, what was it you had to tell me?” Marley turns to ask Len.
Len stills. His eyes slide from Marley’s to mine as he licks his lips, picks up his lowball glass, and again twirls the amber liquid inside.
Percy Sledge sings about a man loving a woman as we all watch him reach across the table for the bottle of bourbon and top up his drink. He slides the bottle to Marley, who covers his glass with his hand.
“I’m good,” Marls says.
“Believe me when I say you’re gonna need this,” Len states.
“Fuck me,” Marls mumbles before he tops up his glass, then passes the bottle to Cam, who does the same.
“I don’t know if you want the girls here for this.” Len looks between Cam and me.
I look up at Cam for guidance.
“We’re twenty-three. Far from babies,” Lu complains.
“I know, I’m aware. But if you were mine, I wouldn’t want you hearing this,” Len counters.
“Does it involve my mum or dad?” Kiki questions.
“Indirectly, your mum, but not your dad.”
“We’re good, then,” Lu speaks for her and her twin.
Cam says nothing.
“You sure?” I ask my girls.
“Mum, after the things we’ve heard today, honestly, we’re fine.” Lu again speaks for her and Kiks.
Len nods.
“When dad got to Paris, before we were aware of any of the evidence, he sent someone out to negotiate a deal with Haley White. To pay her off and get her to drop the charges.”
“He gave her five grand. We already know this,” Marley says with a head tilt in my direction, because it’s true, we did know.
“That was after we knew there was very little evidence. He originally offered her fifty, then when the lack of evidence became apparent, he changed it to five. He told her to fuck off and disappear.”
“She didn’t, though, did she?” I remind him. “She went to the papers with the photographs.”
Len shakes his head. “No, that was Rocco. That day, when it all happened, he tried to leave the room with the video camera, but I walked in and stopped him from touching anything. Then the police arrived. I hadn’t realised he had a camera in the back pocket of his jeans.
That’s where the photos came from. He released them to the press.
Haley—she was fucking shitting herself after a visit from whoever Dad sent to deliver his message.
She was back in England and laying low before we even got back there. ”
Len’s quiet again, staring into his drink for a long moment while we all wait.
“Because all the charges were dropped, nobody looked at what was on the tape in the video camera. When everything that had been taken for evidence and held by the police was released, the label sent someone from their legal team to collect the boys’ stuff.
Thankfully, they sent someone a little bit switched on, because when they saw the video camera was labelled as an exhibit found in the boys’ room, they claimed it as theirs and brought it back to London.
Rocco threw a fit, demanded it was returned, which it was, minus the tape that was inside. ”
The room spins. Please, after all these years, please, Sean, don’t break my heart all over again.
“They called me in, asked what we, the band, wanted to do with it. Musically, professionally, the band were killing it. Mentally, they were falling apart. Maca was barely hanging on. You wouldn’t talk to him, he wouldn’t talk to Marley, you wouldn’t talk to Marley.
It was a shitshow, so I made the executive decision to watch the tape and decide then whether I’d show it to them or not. ”
“What was on it?” Marley asks before I can.
Lennon takes a huge gulp of his drink, which has to burn.
“They assaulted him, Haley and Rocco, while he was passed out cold. They sexually assaulted him.”
“No,” I sob out the word. “No, no, no,” I repeat, turning my head into Cam’s chest as he pulls me against him.
“Girls, out!” he booms.
“Mum?” Kiki questions.
“Don’t fuck with me, girls. Out!” Cam repeats.
I hear the sound of chairs pushing back and my daughters leaving the room without further argument.
“You can hear them have a conversation about needing semen,” Len continues once they’re gone.
I turn my face from where it’s been buried in my husband’s chest and turn to look at my brother while I struggle to believe what I’m hearing.
“Then the camera gets knocked, and it’s turned towards where you and Mac are both lying on the bed.” Len’s eyes are now on Marley, as are mine and everyone else’s in the room.
“Rocco starts to undo your jeans, but Haley stops him, saying she’s already had you. Now, she wants Maca. Wants a little taste of what Georgia won’t share.”
I close my eyes at his words. It does nothing to stop the revulsion churning in my stomach.
“Rocco rolls Mac over. She undoes his jeans, reaches into his boxers, and starts stroking him. When that doesn’t work, she starts sucking him.
When there’s still no reaction, Rocco has a go.
When they go back to you”—Len nods towards Marley—“Maca stirs, so they stop and quickly zip yours and Mac’s jeans back up.
They then come up with the plan for Haley to run out into the hallway crying rape.
I don’t think they knew the camera was recording because it keeps going.
You can hear Haley screaming, me coming into the room, the police arriving. It only ends when the tape runs out.”
Ash has a hold of Marley’s hand where it rests on the table. I watch as he reaches across with his other hand and holds on to her with his eyes closed.
“They didn’t touch me?” Marley asks with his eyes still closed.
“No,” Len replies with a shake of his head.
Marley opens his eyes, looks at Ash and repeats, “They didn’t touch me,” but this time it’s a statement, not a question.
I watch as silent tears stream down my brother’s cheeks, matching my own rage and revulsion, fighting for precedence inside my head. How could two people be so truly, truly vile?
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us, show us, let us decide? Why’d you keep it from us all these years?” Marley questions, anger and hurt obvious in his tone.
“I didn’t. I told Maca. He watched it.”
“What?” I sob out the word again. “When?”
“You weren’t together. I showed him, and he told me he didn’t want to press charges, didn’t want to go public with it because it would just hurt you even more.”
“No.” My voice is almost a wail, but I don’t care. I don’t care if my daughters can hear me, don’t care what anyone thinks. “Why, why, why, why? Didn’t they do enough damage?”
“It’s what he wanted. He told me to keep the tape in case we ever needed it as evidence, but not to press charges, not to tell you, and not to tell Marley. Marls…” Len turns to look at our brother. “He was worried how it’d impact you mentally. Him keeping it from you came from a good place.”
“I get it,” Marley says, calmly, surprising me. “But I hate that he, and you, had to carry it with you. You, for all these years.” He turns to face me. “Did Mac ever tell you, say anything to you?”
“Nothing, ever,” I tell him.
“Rocco knew we knew. It’s how we managed to keep everything out of the papers after the original images were ‘leaked’.
” Len uses air quotes while saying the word leaked.
“I let him know we’d be bringing sexual assault charges against him if he didn’t give a ‘no comment’ response whenever he might be asked about events in Paris.
The consequences for him would be far-reaching.
He’d probably be dropped by his band, the label, and be refused entry into certain countries.
So, he begrudgingly complied. Both he and Haley retracted everything, and it was turned into a non-story.
He did that. Maca. He did that for you and for you,” he says with a nod towards Marley, then me.
“Haley White was never told that we had the video or that Mac had seen it, because he hated the thought of her having that over you, George.”
I’m numb, but I’m not. I have so much anger coursing through me, I honestly don’t know how to process what I’ve just been told.
I start by reaching for my wine and draining what’s left in my glass.
“If they weren’t already dead, I’d be paying Cam to use his contacts to make it happen,” Ash spits out.
“You think his hotel room overdose was an accident?” Cam says quietly from beside me.
I close my eyes. Feeling like I’m being pulled under water, I fight for breath.
“What the fuck?” Marley cries.
I turn my head slowly to look up at Cam, who looks down at me and shrugs.
“I heard a rumour. His band had kicked him out. He was broke… Rocco Taylor, I mean. Someone tipped me off that he was planning to go to the press with an exposé of what really happened in Paris. I knew none of the facts, none of what you’ve just told us.
” Cam nods towards Len. “I’d kept him on my radar for years in case he ever did make a move, and when he did, I knew I wasn’t about to sit back and let him break her heart all over again. ”
My husband looks down at me. Brown eyes dance all over my face, and I wonder if I’m a terrible, terrible person for wanting to kiss him. For feeling love, pride, and gratitude for this man.
He shrugs again. “I made a few calls, and he was dealt with.”
“Fuck me,” Marley whispers.
“That is so fucking hot. You’re a legend, TDH. A fucking legend,” Ash states.
“A-fuckin-men to that,” Jim agrees.
Len huffs out a laugh. “Fuck me.” He sighs, repeating Marley’s sentiment.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained, I still can’t go to bed without showering the day away. With my hair piled high on top of my head, I let the jets fire water at the back of my neck and across my shoulders.
Yungblud’s cover of “I Was Made For Loving You” plays quietly over the speakers, and as if by magic, the man made for loving me appears in the doorway of our ensuite.
Our guests left around an hour ago, all of us saying subdued goodbyes as we each attempted to process the day’s revelations—something I haven’t even begun to do.
While I headed up for a shower, Cam locked up the house before I heard him talking to the girls—probably apologising for raising his voice at them earlier.
We haven’t had a chance to discuss what we’re going to tell them yet, and I hope he’s not revealing too much until we decide that between us.
I know they’re grown women, but they’re still, and always will be, our babies.
I’ll forever want to protect them from the uglier side of life, and fuck me, some of what I learned today was so fucking ugly.
“You avoiding me?” my husband asks, his head tilted to one side.
“Absolutely not. I just needed to wash the day away.”
We stare at each other. I know we need to talk, but I have no idea where to even begin.
“Was it that bad?” he asks.
“Some of it was beautiful. Some of it…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I wanted to wash it away, not have it cling to me. Not take it to our bed.”
“Does that include what I said? What I told you?” he asks, and I hate the set of his jaw and the tone of his voice. He both looks and sounds unsure, which is so unlike him.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “We will need to talk about it, but not right now. There have been enough words for one day. I don’t need any more right now.”
“What do you need right now?” My cocky, confident husband instantly reappearing.
“You,” I tell him. “Just you.”
“All of me?” He pulls his T-shirt over his head to reveal his broad chest. The hairs covering it are greying now, but he’s as muscled and toned as the day we met.
“Every inch,” I state.
“My cock?”
“Every inch.”
He pulls down his jeans and boxers together, and every inch is revealed: big, thick, beautiful, and all fucking mine.
After stepping into our large double shower, he turns on the water at the opposite end and stands under the large showerhead, the water hitting him from above, the jets hitting him from the sides.
We stare at each other in silence. I watch as he pumps his favourite Balmain Homme hair and bodywash into his hand before he washes his arms, pits, chest, and abs.
“You wanna help?” he asks as his soapy hands reach for his cock.
Slowly, I shake my head.
“No?’ he questions with one brow raised.
“I wanna watch.”
He nods and begins stroking himself with one hand, cupping and squeezing his balls with the other. My eyes can’t decide if they want to watch what he’s doing to himself, or if they want to watch him watching me. I lick my lips when I take in how hard he now is.
“Want some?” he asks when I bite my lip like every stupid bird in a romance novel and nod. “On the stool,” he orders.
I sit on the tiled stool we had built into my end of the shower.
“Spread,” he says with a head tilt.
I open my legs.
“Play with your clit.”
I use my right hand to do as he says, my left to pull at my nipples. Leaning back against the tiles, I spread my legs wider and watch him watching me.
“Come here.” He beckons with his finger.
Covering the space between us, I’m soon standing naked before him, just out of reach of the hot water. Goosebumps rise across my skin as it cools, and my nipples harden.
Cam reaches out and uses both hands to pull, cup, and squeeze my breasts.
Moving his right hand to his face, he raises his index finger. “Shh,” he says very quietly.
“I never…”
“Your brain, Kitten. Your brain. Just do as you’re told and shut everything out.”
I love, love, love that he knows exactly what I need. For him to take charge, take control, so I don’t have to think.
“Now, get on your knees and suck my cock,” he orders.
Uncharacteristically, I silently and immediately obey.