Thick as Thieves (The Greystone Family: Stolen Hearts #3)

Chapter 3

3

Xander

Eleven months ago, London in December.

Jase pulls up at the Elizabeth Hotel, where Marcus stays when he’s in London. Like me, he doesn’t stay at his family home. Marcus is avoiding his family, I’m avoiding the coldest place on earth. Full of ghosts and no happy memories for me. Marcus likes the relative anonymity of a hotel. I prefer to not stay where Marcus does when in London, so I stay in a friend’s house in Chelsea.

I walk into the hotel practically side by side with Jonno Greystone, getting through the doors just to see Marcus dragging Evie across the floor of the foyer, pressing the lift button, and kissing her like he might die if he doesn’t get inside her.

I look at Jonno. “Looks like their meeting went well.” I shake my head.

“What the fuck? I punched him this morning for having a go at her, he’s a complete dick,” Jonno says, the scowl changing his angelic face to the assassin I know he can be.

“Yeah I gave him some shit over that. He just can’t control himself where she’s concerned. Never has been able to.”

I wave at Mick, a sarcastic flick of my fingers. “Have you been told to shoot to kill, Mick?” I ask him and point to me and Jonno. Mick grins, and he and Tommy—Evie’s security—abandon their perch by the bar to come over.

“I’ll stay here with her. They have a whole floor to themselves, and I’ll get a car ready to come for us when she’s ready to come home,” Tommy tells us.

Mick jokes, “I’ve got the rifle ready, Xan. He said you’d come, as he’d told you not to.”

Jonno snorts out a laugh and I smile.

“Why are you here, Jonno?” Mick asks, curiosity written all over his face.

“She took off without saying where she was going, so…” He shrugs as if that’s normal.

My turn to laugh. “You fucking follow her around London? Jonno, that’s fucked up man. I thought you stopped that when we were young?” He always followed her around. I never got to the bottom of why.

“Not a fucking chance. We’re loaded, she’s loaded, lots of people out there who would want to hurt us. She’s an easy target and so is James, so we have security for them, and I follow them when I can, of course.”

I’m not sure if that is a valid reason, but he’s running with it.

“Is it bad? Do you get threats?” I ask him. Fucking hell. What have the Greystones turned into?

“In our line of work, especially the tech security stuff, there’s always people wanting things you have—information Jackson holds, all sorts of stuff. We need to make sure they’re safe at all times. Hence Tommy and Darryl,” he points to Tommy. “Tommy headed up Jackson’s counter intel department. Got fed up, wanted a bit of a slower pace, got on well with Evie, so decided to stay with her. He’ll happily deal with Kellen if he has to.”

I side-eye him to see if he’s joking, but he’s not smiling. Kell better watch his back.

I always remember Jonno as coming across as cheerful and sane, but underneath, he was cold, calculating, and a bit insane. Genius level tech though, clearly worked out well for them all. I also remember him following Evie around, so I think he’s just so used to doing it, he doesn’t know how not to.

“I’m off to a club, do you want to join?” he asks me, changing the subject.

“What sort of club, night club?” I ask him.

“No, the sort you like Xander. Similar to the one you go to in LA.”

I look at him, intently checking his face for clues to what he thinks he knows.

“You been researching us?”

“Of course. You think I’d let just anyone near them? No fucking chance. Even if we knew each other before, I deal in the now.” He looks over at the bar, nods at someone in there, then looks back at me, calculating. “Right up your alley, this place. C’mon, I’ll check you in as a guest.”

The club, or really should I say house, is close to where I’m currently living. I thought for a minute Jonno was taking me home. But we pull into the street behind a row of Georgian terraces—large houses, five stories with the basement included, double fronted with black wrought iron railings out front. The building, white with all the lights shining out on the ground and first floor levels. Lush box hedging on either side of the doors and flower boxes pretty up the frontage even more. Nowhere does it say it was a club. It looks like a large posh family home. The only clue it may be something different is the large portico at the front that harbours the doormen, all in uniform, navy blue and silver, heavy wool coats on against the winter weather. Cars pull up and the occupants are escorted inside with umbrellas.

“No pictures or phones in here. If you’re seen, you’re out, no questions. Just straight out and your phone taken. It’s all in the agreements. You get your phone back, but thoroughly checked out. If you don’t want that, don't come in. Or better still, don’t get the fucking phone out in the first place. If you need to make calls or take one, there’s a bar area for that on the ground floor.” Jonno is issuing orders at a hundred miles an hour.

“Is it your place then?” I ask him. “Seems tech enough to get you interested.”

He just laughs. “There’s some good stuff on tonight, should be perfect for you.” He stares at me, smirking. “I know what you like. Probably know more about you than you think I do. You two were hardly hard to keep away, or find. I knew where you were. You tried as many times as Kellen to find her.” He’s checking my face all the while he’s talking to me. “Why? You had it all, what you both wanted. No? Did you like my divert to ‘Greystone paving’? My little joke. I know you hit the pavement on an annual basis.” He’s laughing now.

“You fucker. I tried to find her to help him. He was a fucking mess most of the time, still is.” I’m incredulous he finds it fucking funny.

“What about you Xander? You didn’t want her to help you?”

I huff out, scoffing at his suggestion, it sounds so selfish, trying to find someone to help you out.

Jonno just looks at me. “You two, still lying to yourselves?” he adds cryptically, grinning.

“Whiskey?” he asks as we walk into the bar area and he leans across the high-shine bar. It’s an amazing room. Classic period features, but with a modern twist. All the art is modern, and the lights bright, but also soft. Tables are scattered around and people are coming and going, some stay for one drink and leave, others look like they are in for the night.

We’ve been given our passes, well Jase and I have—it’s a barcode on the inside of my wrist. Highly discreet and will fade off by tomorrow. “All very ecological,” says Jonno. I notice some people moving towards an oversized door and a bookcase where there seems to be a gap between the two you can pass through. Some go through the door, some slip around the side of the bookcase.

The lights flash twice, similar to how they do in a theatre when the performance is about to start, and Jonno stands and says, “Follow me.”

When I go to leave, I'm not sure if I feel better or worse. What the hell is wrong with me? Usually a night like that, doing all the things I’ve grown to love, satisfies me. But tonight, no. How can that be? I run through the night’s entertainment: multiple partners, lots of toys, completely stunning women—all submissive enough to keep me mildly interested. Mildly interested? Huh?

It all felt so mundane. Bland, cold, boring. Normally I don’t even think, detach my brain and focus on the sensations alone. Feed my body if not my mind.

So why tonight does it feel nowhere near enough? Because it’s dark and it’s cold here in this place, in my mind. There’s no light, no warmth, it feels so fucking empty.

I shake my head to clear my reverie and focus on Jonno. “Nice place you’ve got here, Jonno.” The man is crazier than ever. Not sure what it says about me the fact I'm stood here with him.

He smirks. “Keeps me entertained,” he says. “Jude always thought it was Kellen who was in charge of your little duo. He didn’t have you down as topping.” He winks at me. “But I did. And I now see I was right all those years ago.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jonno,” I say conversationally, looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t give a fuck what you think you know or don’t know.”

He throws his head back laughing. “Hey, no judgement from me. I can hardly throw any stones at anyone, not that I would want to anyway. Sex is sex mate. Whatever that looks like.”

I give him a withering glare. “Your issue is, you think you know everything about everyone. Cleverer than the average bear.” I point imperiously at him. “Well maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do.”

He’s a pain in the fucking arse. Always has been. Terrorising anyone that got in his way. But a hundred percent faithful to protecting Evie and his family. So I always gave him a pass.

“Why’s Evie so quiet? It’s not what I always expected of her. She wasn’t on your level of crazy, but she wasn’t far behind you.” I go for a change of subject. A well used distraction technique on Jonno. Evie.

“She’s been doing that for a while. It won’t last, but she seems happy with it at the moment. Jude thinks he’s got her where he wants her, doing his dirty work. Jackson thinks she needs protecting so is trying to hand pick her men. They are both so far off the mark it’s unbelievable, but she’s been lulling them in for years now, biding her time.”

“She was wild, free, why’s she living so quietly now?” I think about the beautiful untamed spirit that was Evie Greystone, and my whole body glows. She was magnificent.

“James, probably.”

Jonno offers to drop me off at Marcus’s hotel. As soon as we’re in the car, he starts up again.

“You’ve always loved him, when did you love her?” he asks me, staring intently into my face.

Not do you , but when did you. I notice the difference and I know he will, and means it.

“When you first met her and she shoved him in the ditch? Or was it later, when she kissed the fuck out of you in that graveyard? You never did tell him about it, did you? Kept that for yourself.”

Jonno Greystone, the sly fuck, master tactician. I decide so the fuck what. I might as well put everything out there. It’ll never get me anywhere anyway. Well not where I would want to be, so fuck it.

“All of the above, Jonno.” I smirk at him.

But I look back now, and see it all. How the patterns of my life could have been different. So very different. But it’s no use looking back. I can only look forward. Hope things will get better now she’s back in my life in some way. She could have been in it sooner but for this bastard sat grinning at me in this car.

“You kept her hidden from us for eighteen-fucking-years, you cunt.” I’m suddenly so angry with him, and he just laughs.

He laughs, full-on. “You’ll be thanking me for that one day, Xander Barclay. Now get out, and let me get home and pretend I was dancing all night.” He opens the car door at the hotel.

Dancing alright, with the devil himself. The man is lethal. A few minutes later, I see a car go out of the underground garage and know it’s Evie going home. It’s early, don’t think Marcus will be up.

I walk onto the hotel floor to see Mick, who’s dressed and ready for anything, as usual.

“All alright, Mick? Did she leave in one piece?”

I can feel his agitation.

“No she did not. There will be hell to pay. She was a mess. Not a piece of skin he hadn’t bitten, and I mean some were full-on bite marks. What the fuck has gotten into him? I’ve never seen anyone look like that, ever. Not from his room, anyway. Maybe from yours, whips and all considered.” He’s shaking his head, looking like he’s trapped somewhere between laughter and pure panic.

“Did she seem upset?” I ask, guessing the answer before he says.

“No, far from it. Seemed okay about it, to be honest. Was joking a bit with both me and Tommy.”

“Well then,” I shrug.

As expected, Evie Greystone can handle Marcus Russell. If anyone thinks differently, they’re deluded and don’t know her.

“It’s not her, it’s those brothers. I’ve been checking into them. Darker than dark, they are. Murky worlds they wander into and out of for different assignments. No wonder they have security on her and the boy. The older one got his hands dirty in the forces, security and intelligence work. The younger one does all the tech. But for an incredibly high profile tech company, there’s so little about him. He’s a ghost. Had I not met him in person, I would swear he didn’t exist.”

“Yep that sounds about right for Jonno.” I nod sagely.

Mick gives me the once over. “You have a good night?” he asks me. “Jase said the place was ridiculous.”

I laugh out. “Yep, it sure was. Bit like CAshO in LA, only better.” He knows the club. Well, he knows the sort of club, that is.

“Might need a bit of food then?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice. “You look pale, Xan. No sleep yet?”

I grin ruefully. “No, not yet. It’ll come.” I shrug. “More hours for fun,” I say and smirk at him. But he doesn’t smile back, he just looks more worried. “You worry too much Mick. But on a brighter note, I’ve found the perfect entertainment for Marcus’s birthday in March. I’m getting it all set up.”

He goes from worried to terrified, and I laugh at him.

I mull over the things Jonno said to me over the course of the night, he never tells you anything for nothing. You just have to listen between the words. I learned that about him a long time ago.

Sitting in Mick’s room, waiting for the dawn to come with my breakfast, I look out over London and remember the first time I got a good look at the younger Greystones, Jude and Jonno. And Evie

Xander aged 9

Yorkshire, England

We’ve seen them around the fields, running wild, and generally being a nuisance. In other words being where we want to be. Rope swings, hidden dens, mud slopes with sledges when it rained, the lake—wherever we decide to go, they seem to get there first. All we could do was stand there in the background, hidden from sight, watching them from a distance. I know Marcus won’t keep doing it, he’s too proud, and stubborn. If I hear the phrase ‘it’s my land, they work for me’ again I’ll hit him myself. Clearly his mother’s been talking to him, building up his part.

I know, even from this distance, they don’t give two shits about whose land it is and who works for whom. If they want to do it, they do. And no one, even at ages eight or nine, is going to change that fact.

I don’t get a close up look at her, or them, until we’re standing literally nose to nose at the top of Broadridge. Right next to the big ditch running alongside it. Jude found Marcus’s old bike and is busy stripping it for parts. To be honest it’s been up here out in the elements for a year already, forgotten by Marcus, his mother of course getting him a new one.

Marcus, however, touches my arm and crows, “Now we’ve got them.”

He marches over to confront the biggest one—Jude. “You’re stealing that,” Marcus states in his most haughty voice, his stance grand and imperious, clearly channelling his mother. “I’m going to have you arrested for theft.”

Three pairs of eyes all look at him, two brown and one the most amazing colour grey I’ve ever seen. Like a summer storm rolling in, with long black lashes sweeping onto her cheeks. I can’t look away.

They don’t look away either, but all stand tall in a total fuck you move, just staring at him.

“Move away from that now, otherwise I’ll call the police.”

“Fuck off,” puts in the smaller boy, lazily. We know his name is Jonno. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, so call away, mummy’s boy.” They all grin at that.

Marcus does not.

“That’s my bike. You took it and hid it up here.” He points at Jude. “Waited until I got a new one and then came back for it. You’re a thief.”

“He is not!” the girl shouts, stepping forwards, going from laughing to shouting in a nanosecond.

We both step back. Girls did not shout like that at our house.

Evie. We’d heard them calling her that, although Rowena, Marcus’s mother, always referred to her as Everett or ‘the Parker girl.’

She senses our retreat and goes in for the kill. “You fell off it. We saw you. Wimp. Cried like a baby, and dumped it. Oh poor, poor, baby Marcus, should have got your mummy to come get it for you.” She’s got her hands near her eyes pretending to wipe away tears. Totally taking the piss.

Marcus has had enough of being nice. He steps forwards and shouts at her, “He fucking did, and I’m going to get you arrested for it.”

Evie picks up the bike, and with all her might, throws it back into the ditch. “Go fetch it now,” she shouts in his face as they’re stood nose to nose. Her two bouncers start to howl with laughter.

“Well done, E. Fetch boy, fetch,” laughs Jude.

“Get off my land, you bastards. This is my land and I want you off. You work for me,” Marcus shouts at them.

They all stop laughing and look at each other, then at me, and start to laugh again.

Marcus is steaming at this point. I go to grab him, as he’s definitely going to hit Jude. He misses and pushes into Evie by mistake. She goes down as she’s so slight, and both the boys change in an instant. From jovial banter to Armageddon.

They jump onto Marcus and I, landing punches as they do. Evie recovers and jumps into the melee, trying to pull the brothers off, and get a punch or two in at the same time. She pushes into me from the side, and when I go down, she jumps on top of me, sitting on my stomach and holding my hands at the side of my head. She’s so small and light I could have flicked her off, but instead I stare into those beautiful grey eyes.

“What are you looking at, Xander?” I didn’t know she knew my name, and I can hardly get any words out. “Jude never stole that bike, your idiot friend can’t ride it. Stay there.” Leaving me in a bit of a stupor, she jumps off me and runs into the back of Marcus, effectively pushing him down the same slope she’s thrown the bike.

Marcus rolls down the slope, landing with a thud against his old bike.

“Get me out,” he shouts at us all, trying to get up the bank, but the bank is wet and muddy, so each time he slides back down again.

The Greystones are trying to help him by telling him to move to a different bit of banking, but he doesn’t listen. He’s so stubborn, always knows best.

Evie walks over to me, pulling at my arm. I feel as if hot pokers have touched me. “You tell him, Xander. He might listen to you,” she says, exasperated.

“We’ll all cop it, if he can’t get out,” puts in Jonno. “He’s an idiot.”

Evie shouts down, “You’re useless, Marcus. Move to the left. No your left.” She’s rolling her eyes at him.

Marcus is red with rage, and eventually, after an hour and it’s starting to get dark, a decision is made to call for help.

The Greystones stand snorting with laughter as I call Rowena from the farm closest to our location near the ditch, telling her Marcus has fallen in the ditch after he’s found his bike and went to get it.

She arrives with a tractor—a fucking tractor—a winch, and half the estate staff to get poor Marcus out. Every time Marcus or I look at the Greystones they jeer and laugh. Every time an adult looks at them, they look upset and worried. I’d never seen such tactics played out so blatantly before. We have a lot of catching up to do if we’re going to win this battle.

To his credit, Marcus never rats Evie or any of them out, sticking to the story that he’d found his bike and went to get it with the Greystones trying to help him.

Evie then puts on a performance of a lifetime when Henry Russell—Marcus’s dad—turns up. Over to him she sidles, with her big beautiful eyes, and tells him Marcus had gone to get it for her, as she did not have a bike and he’d wanted her to have it as he’d got a new one.

So Henry, thinking his son is so gracious, gives the bike to the triumphant Evie, who smirks her thanks to Marcus and then goes full throttle with Henry, practically kissing the man

Marcus is fuming. He knows he’s been outsmarted, but he can’t say anything as she’s played it so well, he’ll come out of the whole debacle looking like the good guy. And all he wants to do is shove her into the ditch.

It sets the tone for the next few years. Until Marcus, or Kellen as he’s known to them, can’t contain himself any longer, kisses her in that river at age thirteen and falls in love.

Took him long enough. I was already there when she sat on me. I could smell her scent, rose and rain. Her beautiful grey eyes looking down into my face, not blinking, staring into my soul.