Страница 1 из 86
CARNAGE
BOOK #1
THE STORY OF US
by Lesley Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organisations or places is entirely coincidental.
Carnage
Copyright © 2013 Lesley Jones
All rights reserved.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author.
WARNING
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they ca
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
AUGUST 1999
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
EPILOGUE
For my family,
for your love, support
and words of encouragement,
I love you.
CHAPTER 1
I was swinging upside down by my knees on the monkey bars in our back garden the first time I met him; my best friend Jimmie and I hanging, facing each other, eating pop rocks and singing what we thought was a stellar rendition of ‘Liza Radley’ by The Jam at the tops of our voices. We had heard my big brother Bailey listening to the B side of the 12 inch version of the single ‘Start’ the week before and saying that he liked it better than the A, he had been playing it nonstop for the last few days. So we had listened to it and learned the words, because Jimmie was in love with each and every one of my three big brothers and was convinced that if she knew the words to their favourite songs, they would notice her and I can’t say I blame her, they’re all very good looking, Jimmie just hadn’t decided yet which of the three she was going to marry. Le
“George, I can see your knickers, get the fuck up will ya!”
Yep, that was Marls, I had no idea why he was moaning though, he usually loved seeing Jimmies knickers, in fact, I had heard him beg to see her knickers in the past, and then I saw them, the other pair of legs following Marley up the garden towards us. Monkey Boots? Whoever was approaching us was wearing Monkey Boots. I love Monkey Boots, they were already on my Christmas list, despite the fact it was still only August. My thoughts were interrupted by a very loud wolf whistle. I had heard boys do this before, my Dad and my brothers did to me when they knew I’d put a lot of effort into an outfit and my Dad did it to my Mum every time she came down the stairs, dressed and ready for the day and it always made me so happy that he did that. But this, this whistle did something to me that I didn’t quite understand, it sent feelings through me that landed in places I was only just realising had feelings. That sound woke something up in my body that I never even knew had been sleeping there.
Jimmie and I swung up at the same time, grabbed the bars by our hands and dropped to the floor, I was pretty sure we were in complete synchronisation and looking like a pair of Olympic gymnasts. We turn towards Marley and take a bow, then collapse into each other giggling like the pair of eleven year old girls that we are. I looked back towards Marls who wasn’t laughing; he was in fact glaring at the pair of us. I tipped my head back and emptied what was left of my packet of pop rocks into my mouth, letting the tiny little orange shards explode over my tongue.
I look back toward my brother, waiting for the popping to stop in my mouth so I could give him some attitude about the shitty look on his face when my world suddenly stopped turning, it stuttered for a few seconds, then restarted, erratically matching the rhythm of the candy exploding inside me but when I swallowed, the explosions didn’t stop, they went down into my chest and on into my stomach, settling uncomfortably down low in my belly, for some reason the sensation was causing my brain to cease its co
Then just under a year ago, I got my first period and things got worse, we lived in a nice house, on a nice street in a nice area. I had always been allowed to play out late because my brothers were always around to look out for me; we were a large group of about twenty kids, boys and girls, varying in age from ten to about fifteen. It was harmless, sexless fun, i