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It’s a solid plan that doesn’t require any further conversation. I’ll give him credit on reading the situation well enough not to yap. Christopher would’ve verbally lynched me by now, and Casper would’ve pissed me off enough with his growling that we would’ve ended up having a real tear-up.
The drive to the crematorium is uneventful. Once I’ve entered the code for the gates, we drive through to the covered car park. The cremator comes out, ready to take us through to the furnace. He’s so used to dealing with me that he doesn’t bat an eyelid at my bloody state. There’s barely a hello, leaving Leo to follow behind us.
Looking around me to Leo, the cremator assesses him. He’s never seen him before, and his slight nerves are showing.
“Usual?” he asks me, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah.”
Stepping to the side, he allows me to deal with the body and the bag holding all the implements I used on him. Once I’m certain it’s done, I let him take over. It’s going to take at least three hours to get rid of the bastard. Time that I don’t have to stand around.
“I’ll take Cassie’s car to get it cleaned up tomorrow,” I tell Leo as we head back to the cars.
He nods, swapping keys with me. At least he’s not going to argue about this. We both know Cassie will get worried and then upset. I’ll never hear the end of how she needs to make sure I’m all right.
“What happened back there?” Leo asks as I get into the Evoque, pointing in the direction we drove here from. “What’s going on with you?”
“You blew the cunt’s brains out,” I grit at him, waiting for him to step back so I can close the door.
“Nothing you haven’t done!”
“I don’t do that shit, and if you ever do that in front of me again…I’ll scramble your fucking brain with my fists. Got it, numbers boy?”
A scoff pushes out of his lips with a shake of his head. I’m not sure what he’s in disbelief about because it’s really fucking simple, and contrary to what he believes, shooting a person in the head isn’t a mercy. It’s death just like by any other means.
“You’re that fucked up over Georgina?” Leo scoffs.
The sound of her name alone is enough to make the void bigger, vacuous, in a way that I may never see or know anything else again. I’m lost in my own life.
“Maybe you should do something about it. Being a dick to everyone else isn’t going to bring her back to you. Try doing something for her…or just apologising for being an arsehole.” Finally getting out of the way of the door, he adds with a shrug and look of pity, “Just saying.”
“You’re such a ladies’ man, why don’t you tell me exactly what I should do. Go on, Mr. Expert…tell me how exactly to bring her back.”
Sauntering backwards, he grins. “Nah, you don’t need my help, remember? You don’t need anyone’s help.”
With that, he turns around and gets in his Maserati, revving loudly as if to drive his point home before he backs out of his parking space and leaves.
One of these days, I’m going to pummel his cocky baby face until he can’t grin anymore. Saying that, I do have bigger things to focus on. The first one being that I need to get Georgina back.
Chapter 11
GEORGINA
Freddie doesn’t love me.
It’s what I keep reminding myself of every time I stare out of my window to find him parked outside Casper’s gates in a brand-new car that makes his Merc look like a poor man’s horse cart, doing nothing but sitting there, watching the house. He’s done it every night for the last few days, and it’s torture feeling him so near and knowing we are so far apart. It’s cruel loving someone beyond reason and to be rejected even when you don’t want anything in return. Beyond that, it’s tragic.
The aching thrum of my heart stutters as the light from his laptop illuminates the shadowed contours of Freddie’s face. My fingertips buzz with the recollection of the scratch of his light stubble after a long day. With the twist of my stomach, my pulse picks up, and I have to swallow down the urge to pull the voile curtain to the side so I can get a clearer view of him.
“George?”
I jump at the sound of Casper’s voice, turning so quickly to look at him standing in the open doorway of the guest bedroom that I almost trip over myself.
Moving away from my hiding place beside the window, I release the blackout curtains in order to stop myself from watching him all night. It’s not as easy as it seems to walk away from my murky view of him.Although the sight isn’t clear, my memories are, and I can picture Freddie’s blue stare directed straight at me, the thick strands of his blond hair all messy and dishevelled from the way he constantly runs his fingers through them. Like spun gold, it always catches the light. I’ve never known a man so beautiful that it hurts to look at him and not touch.
“You want me to make him leave?” Casper asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
His T-shirt is hanging off one shoulder, probably covered in baby spit or vomit. Maybe both knowing how cranky Gracie has been lately.
