Perfectly Obsessed

  The goading voice continues.

  “I heard he’s keeping his head down so he can get out early.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too. I would too if I had his girl waiting for me. Have you seen her? Cor, she’s enough to make you have wet dream like a fucking teenager.”

  Now, they have my full fucking attention. Slowly, I turn to face them and I was right, there are only two of them and I already know I can take them both.

  I stay under the shower. I don’t see why I should freeze my balls off for these dead men talking.

  “Come on then, let’s have it,” I tell them, holding my arms out wide.

  Two on one, and one being bollocks naked and dripping wet, they should be more buoyant about taking me on.

  I grin menacingly and keep my stance tight and calm.

  “What we waiting for?” I laugh, not moving.

  “Afraid I’ll take you both out on my own? Show you little bitches who I really am?”

  They look to each other and step back. This pisses me off more than them talking about Cammie. Don’t come and interrupt a man’s shower time and then back out like fucking pussies.

  I step towards them and the second inmate matches my steps in the other direction.

  I come nose to nose with the main instigator in this little charade and push my forehead against his. He stands his ground but I can see the fear in his eyes.

  “Hit me,” I growl.

  His eyes don’t waver from mine but he stays quiet.

  “C’mon, fucking hit me you cunt. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  Before he can answer not that I think he was going to, I bring my head back and smash it into his nose. His friend scarpers as he falls to his knees and covers his blood ridden face, streaming a flow of swear words about the pain.

  Feeling content with the damage I caused, I return to my shower and lather my body in soap again.

  I begin to laugh and his whines come to a stop.

  “Y’know, you shouldn’t assume anything about anyone in here. Learn that and maybe you won’t end up crying in the showers. A broken nose is the least that could happen to you in here, get what I mean?” I laugh, turning my head slightly to see him backing up against the wall, still holding his nose.

  “Now, fuck off. You’re dripping blood on the floor and I got to walk through this.”

  He stumbles away and I turn the water off making plans to stop by Maxwell’s cell on the way back to mine.

  I can’t fight myself for reasons that are now public knowledge, yet, it doesn’t mean I don’t have the cold, hard cash to pay for it to happen.

  Chapter Eighteen – March 2005

  Drake

  There has been an electric buzzing surging throughout our wing of the prison for the last few days. It will kick off sooner rather than later and when it does I will be at the furthest point away from it all. In the days before Cammie I would have been the one who would have riled the inmates up just for something to do before the boredom drove me crazy. My parole is so close I can almost smell it. I remember telling her I wouldn’t change for anyone and that my way of life doesn’t bother me. Yet, somehow me loving her has changed me irrevocably. I never gave love much thought or how it would feel to be that close to someone. If anything I assumed love would make me weak and cloud all sense and responsibility out the window. In small ways I have changed since I met Cammie, I no longer feel the urge to act recklessly and just for the thrill. I have been able to decipher what is worth it and what is not. Prison rioting is not worth it. Tommy, surprisingly, isn’t geared up for it either. It seems not only is Claudia completely taken with him but him with her too. And this diamond job is serious not only to me, but to him too.

  I carry on writing my letter to Cammie.

  ‘Two months babe, two fucking months till my parole hearing and I can’t wait. Each day feels like a month and a month drags on like a year. Your birthday tomorrow is the last one I am going to miss. Two and a half years we have been together and we have never shared a birthday, how fucked is that? If things were different, I would wake you with breakfast in bed and spoil you with gifts. I would shower you with them and of course, myself. We would do anything you wanted. It makes me angry knowing you won’t celebrate your birth the way you should because you feel your guilt over our separation doesn’t allow it. I am more than selfish when it comes to you and I need every part of you wanting and needing me but I never want you to be unhappy or feel guilty.’

  My head snaps up as battle like cries echo around the place. Throwing down my pen I head out of my cell and lean over the rail on the landing. I spot Tommy taking the stairs two at a time up to our cell.

  “It’s starting. Best stay up here out the way,” he says, taking up the spot beside me.

  “How did it start?” I ask, watching two guys try to choke out the other down on the ground floor.

  “One of Maxwell’s boys broke a pool cue and stuck it in a nobody’s neck. As soon as the screws came running, everyone was kicking off.”

  Violence hangs thickly in the air as inmates fight amongst themselves and taking on the screws. If we weren’t on the second floor landing we would be able to see more, but from what I can already see from leaning over the rail, is it all looks standard.

  “You’ve definitely changed, you know,”

  I hear the difference between Tommy asking me and telling me.

  “Oh yeah,” I shrug.

  I know I have but again, the changes serve me a purpose.

  “Before Cammie, you would’ve been all over this shit. You would’ve gotten off on it.”

  I shake my head, “Not this time. I’ve done two years away from her and my parole is in less than eight weeks. I’m not doing a thing to fuck it up.”

  “I guess we’re both growing up,” he chuckles at our resolve not to fight.

  I roll my neck and look at my cell mate and friend. His huge frame intimidating to most, his shaven head and tattoos covering every inch of his body compared to my slim, lean frame. His laugh doesn’t match his look. It’s higher pitched then you would imagine.

  I laugh along with him and stand up straight.

  “I don’t think we’re choosing to grow up, we both have more on the out this time around, not to mention the pay day we’ve got coming.”

  “About that, if you make parole,”

  I cut him off, “When, when I make parole. There is no if.”

  “Sorry, when you make parole. I’ll push forward with our plan. I’ll be out three months after you and then it’s a go.”

  I nod once and I walk back into our cell and push the door shut.

  I haven’t told Cammie about the diamond job, yet. I’m choosing to tell her after I am out and she can see for herself how this is a once in a lifetime job being so easy in my world. A walk in and walk out job.

  I wake earlier than usual the next morning. I can’t be with my girl on her birthday but I can sure speak to her and I want my voice to be the first to wish her a happy birthday.

  It is barely gone five a.m. when I key in her number on the mobile I managed to obtain through the black market circuit in this place. Trading three packs of cigarettes for ten minutes on the mobile that was tightly tucked under my mattress all night is worth it. Cammie is worth it.

  I wait patiently as it rings.

  “Hello.”

  Her voice is thick with sleep and sexy as fuck.

  “Happy birthday, babe,” I smile, keeping my voice low but loud enough for her to hear.

  “Drake?”

  I hear her moving about and clear her throat, “Oh my God, is that you?” she says, excitedly and more alert.

  “It is,” I laugh.

  “What time is it?” she asks.

  There is something about catching her by surprise that I love and it is making me twitch.

  “Just gone five, I wanted to catch you before you went to be a slave for the day.”

  I don’t give her a hard time about working anym
ore, I don’t like it but I understand her need to keep busy.

  “How are you calling me? Aren’t you meant to be locked up?” she asks, hesitantly.

  “I got my hands on a phone just to speak to you. You should feel special, I handed over three packs of smokes for this,” I say, teasingly.

  “I’m feeling the love,” she giggles, “I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now.”

  This is why she is worth it, her elation just to hear my voice. She has never wanted me for my status or because she wanted me for something. She purely wants me for me.

  “I wish I could talk to you every morning when I wake up,” she murmurs.

  “You will real soon, I don’t think I have enough cigarettes to call you every morning. So, what are your plans today apart from working?” I ask.

  “Just work, I told Marg I didn’t want to do anything so hopefully she’ll listen this year,” she groans, I picture her rolling her eyes.

  Last year, I arranged for Marg to take her out for the day spoiling her with everything I wanted to give her myself. Then in the evening I gave Marg strict instructions to take her out and get her drunk so she wouldn’t be wallowing alone at home.

  “I’m sure she got the message not to,” I chuckle, knowing to leave Cammie alone this year.

  “She does have my present for you, I hope you’ll like it.”

  “I’m sure I will. This is so nice waking up to you on the phone.”

  “Not much longer and you’ll be waking up to me beside you.”

  “What if…” she sighs and carries on, “What if you don’t make parole?”

  “Don’t,” I warn, “Don’t think like that, I’m coming home to you, Cam. Not making parole isn’t an option. Anyway, what happened to all your positive vibes?”

  “You’re right,” she agrees.

  Tommy snores a great big snort and the bunks make a racket as he rolls over blearily opening his eyes.

  “I got to go, tell me you love me and promise you won’t work too hard on your birthday.”

  “I won’t and I love you, Drake. Thank you for calling, although I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back to sleep now.”

  “You’ll just have to lay in our bed thinking about me and all the things I will be doing to you when I get out,” I suggest.

  “I do that on a nightly basis,” she admits and my dick painfully throbs.

  “Fuck Cam, I’m dying here,” I groan myself.

  Her giggle nearly tips me over the edge and I know our call is coming to an end.

  “I should go before the credit runs out.”

  “Okay, are you still going to call me tonight?” she asks.

  “Of course I am, same time, okay?”

  There hasn’t been a night I have missed calling her at six pm, I’m not going to start now.

  “Okay, I love you.”

  “Love you too, babe. Happy birthday and I’ll speak to you tonight.”

  “Bye.”

  And then the credit runs out. I hide the phone back under my mattress until I am able to hand it back to Maxwell at breakfast.

  “Are you this soft with her on the street?” Tommy asks, his head leaning over his bunk looking down at me.

  “I’ll be soft with her wherever I want to be, doesn’t mean I am soft.”

  If anything I am hard. Very fucking hard and I am not thinking about my reputation.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cammie

  “You’re unusually happy, what’s going on?” Marg asks, when I walk into the café.

  I hang my coat in the cupboard beside the kitchen hutch and grab my apron.

  “Why wouldn’t I be happy? It’s my birthday,” I point out.

  “Please, I saw your face last year and the year before. You’ve never been this happy on your birthday since I’ve known you,” she snorts.

  “That’s because Drake has never called me at the crack of dawn before,” I beam, starting to wipe down a table a customer just vacated.

  Her eyebrows shoot up nearly reaching her eyebrows.

  “How much did that cost him?”

  “He mentioned something about trading some cigarettes,” I murmur quietly.

  “I never thought I’d see the day that he really fell in love. That boy is hard as stone apart from with you.”

  Marg has been filling me in on Drake’s earlier life and what he was like as a child.

  “Was he always that way?” I ask, wanting to know everything I possibly can about him.

  She deals with an old man customer before handing the order to Les and joining me again.

  “He was always a serious little thing. Very perceptive and took everything to heart. He could see how much Suzie struggled sometimes and he would try to help, bless his heart.”

  “How could he help? He was only a child.”

  She laughs but whatever memory she is recovering it doesn’t sound like she finds it funny, more like sad.

  “One time, he was mucking about with his friends playing football. He must have been about ten years old at this point, he came in with holes in his school trousers from sliding and tackling for the ball. Suzie broke down because she didn’t get paid till the end of the week and she fought hard to keep Drake well dressed and fed. She often went without to make sure he had everything,”

  She quickly nips to the hutch and collects the old man’s all day breakfast, makes sure he doesn’t need anything else and returns to my side.

  “Well, Drake hated it when she cried. He literally couldn’t stand seeing her upset. She was a strong sort but sometimes the world forced her down. She mended them as best she could that night so he could still go to school the next day but when he came into the café that day he was in a brand new pair of trousers looking shifty but happy with himself.”

  I was so captivated with her memory I forgot all about the cleaning and stood listening intently.

  “What did he do?” I ask.

  “He went down the market and stole two pairs.”

  “He admitted it?”

  “Sure he did, he never lied to Suzie. He didn’t want her working harder because of him.”

  “He was only ten,” I whisper in disbelief.

  I imagine a ten-year-old Drake sneaking around market stalls and stealing school trousers to help his mother out. I never had to worry about that stuff growing up, if I ruined anything it was always replaced without hesitation. My heart breaks a little for Drake.

  “Lovey, ten-year-olds around these parts have the savvy of any adult you would meet. Being raised here forces you to grow up before your time, they have no place enjoying a childhood because their parents’ habits are more important.”

  I nod in understanding and ask, “What did his mum say?”

  I can’t imagine she would have been proud that her ten-year-old was stealing to help her out.

  “Oh, she tore him a new one and made him come straight to the café after school for a month. She never made him take them back because well, it did help her out not that she would ever admit that to him. She did her best to hide how hard she had it but like I said, he was perceptive and it was only the two of them, you know? He saw everything right from an early age.”

  “I think that’s one of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard,” I say, meaning every word.

  “That might be, but that’s story of most kids’ lives around here. Drake never played football after that in case he ripped up another pair of trousers.”

  Christ, that is even worse. A child shouldn’t have to give up having fun just to help his mother out.

  “If he loves you then he’ll move heaven and earth to help you. Right or wrong, he helped his mum more than a kid should have and I know how he’s helped you. You’re the only one apart from Suzie that he’s loved and he loves passionately and seriously. That’s why I gave you a hard time in the beginning, I wanted to make sure you deserved it.”

  I remain silent. To know there has only been two people in his life that he has lo
ved is heart-breaking but at the same time, to know I am the second one he has let into his life gives me unbelievable boost of strength to wait the rest of this sentence with him. Not that I was going anywhere.

  “Anyway, enough of that for today. Here, this is from the man himself. Obviously I had to buy it but everything else is Drake.”

  Marg pulls a black velvet box from her pocket and hands it over.

  I hate he isn’t here to give me it himself but I love that he went to the trouble of arranging this with Marg to surprise me.

  I open the box and find a pendent attached to a thin chain. At first I think it’s a piece of tacky jewellery. Then I look closer at the detail on the pendent and see what it symbolises. Inside a letter C there is a small star and engraved on the star is the letter D.

  “This came for you yesterday.”

  Marg passes over a card and I smile knowing my day is about to get a whole load better.

  Tearing the envelope open I pull out a standard birthday card and read his words.

  ‘Happy birthday babe,

  I hope you like your gift. I want you to have a piece of me and if you are wondering about the star and what it represents then, think of what we could have had but got taken from us. It is the three of us together, always, around your neck and resting on your heart. Good or bad memories, they are our memories and I hold them all close to my heart.

  Enjoy your day and I’ll be thinking of you until I call.

  All my love, D’

  My cheeks are soaked with tears I didn’t realise I was letting free and I quickly wipe them away. A few more months, that’s all. I can’t allow myself to think the worst and he won’t make parole. I have to believe he’ll be released soon.

  “Does he ask why you are still using my address?” she asks.

  “No, thank God. Luckily, I won’t have to lie much longer, I hate it.”

  “You’ve done well. Once he sees that for himself, he’ll be fine.”

  The fire inspector came to the conclusion that the fire was arson and it was started in the flat above mine and Drakes. Stan couldn’t find anything out about it, so we put it down to not having anything to do with Drake and his enemies.