I fucking cursed the woman. I was addicted. Didn’t want her out of my sight. And as I thought of the fuckers who wanted her, who wanted to steal her from me, to sell her and use as a fuck-toy, I saw red. I wanted to tear the twats apart, limb by limb, and hang their bones on my fucking church door to warn any other arsehole off.
“I missed you,” Cheska said, putting her hands on my face. I kissed her again. Words didn’t come easily to me. I didn’t tell her I loved her or fucking missed her. I protected her, fucked her and made her mine in other ways. That’s what I could give. All I knew how to fucking give.
“Let’s go.” She took my hand. I yanked her back and studied her face. I knew that under her makeup she had dark circles under her eyes. She’d lost some weight, and she had been plagued by nightmares since the night in the pits. I narrowed my eyes, trying to read her.
“I’m good, babe,” she said, convincing no one, and kissed my lips. “I promise. I’m …” She sighed, and I felt her fucking slipping away from my grasp. I’d always known it was a fucking pipe dream, her being with me, being okay with this life. “Just let’s enjoy tonight.” She flashed her pearly white teeth. “Who doesn’t love fireworks?”
Cheska put on her coat at the door, and I followed behind. The rain had eased, and colours of light burst all over the London sky, looking like the fucking Blitz. Cheska stopped next to Betsy. I put my hand around her waist and pulled her back to my chest. I sparked up a cig, then placed it in Cheska’s mouth. She took it from me, and I lit my own. Cheska’s head fell against my chest as she stared up at the sky. But I kept my fucking eyes on her. That ache was back in my chest, but it was hitting me deeper, harder.
Cheska’s hand covered my hand and she turned back to me, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and smiled wide. And that ache in my chest became a fucking canyon. I scanned around the church, past the graveyard and tall headstones, making sure everything was safe.
Charlie caught my gaze and frowned at me. He winked, but I saw the concern on his face.
I was going insane. This … Cheska was making me go insane. It was why my old man had never recovered after my mum died. Never married again, hell, never even had a girlfriend. Sure, he fucked birds, whores, but once my mum was gone, he’d locked up all his feelings and only siphoned off the anger that consumed him on his rivals. That was the path he’d shown me too. If he’d been awake now, he’d have laughed in my face for being so fucking pathetic over a piece of pussy. Told me I was an idiot and to shut this thing with Cheska the fuck down before it made me weak.
Then Cheska turned and took my mouth, and despite it all, I fucking let her in. I tasted her and let her perfume wrap around me. The fireworks finally ended; only random ones from people’s gardens were going off now.
“Drinks!” Betsy shouted, then led us all inside. We made our way to the living room, and shots were poured. “Presents!” Betsy called.
Cheska tensed on my knee. “No, you didn’t have to—”
Betsy handed her a present, and I heard the long inhale that Cheska took. Betsy must have seen, as she said, “Open it, darling.”
Cheska opened the box. She laughed, pulling out a book on cockney rhyming slang. Betsy shrugged. “Just thought it might help you a bit more round these parts. Not many people round here could hold a conversation with the queen.” My cousin nodded toward the box again. “There’s a pair of Tiffany earrings in there too.”
“Thank you,” Cheska said, a hitch in her voice. I held her tighter.
Ronnie got up next. She handed her a box. “From me, Vera and Gene.” Cheska took off the lid and froze. “Hairpins,” Ronnie said, smirking. “Maybe not the ones you’re used to receiving. But ones that’ll help you better in this family.”
I kissed the back of Cheska’s neck as she pulled back the tissue paper. Two long silver hairpin blades sat in the box. Cheska lifted them up. “To carry with you,” Vera said. “Just in case.”
Cheska felt the end of the blade, pulling her hand away when it brought a spot of blood to her finger.
“My present’s lessons on how to use them,” Eric said from across the room.
“Leech,” Vera said.
“We’re fucking blokes,” he said, indicating the rest of us. “We don’t do presents. Unless you want a hooker. I can get one here in five minutes flat.”