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

Chapter 7

7

Xander

Chile

Marcus turns up a week into the tour. Apparently Evie ‘kicked him out’ to South America. Said he needed to get out from under her feet.

He spends a lot of time on the phone to her and the babies. I join him for the babies, Marshall, and Pinky bits, but he tells me to fuck off when it’s just Evie. He wants phone sex with his wife.

“You’ve only just left her. You are not going to survive, brother.” I pat him on the back in jest, shaking my head at his antics. He looks gleeful, content.

But my twinge of jealousy stuns me, and the words are out of my mouth before I even realise it. “And I’m so fucking jealous. You lucky bastard.”

As he looks into my face, he knows I’m not joking on that one. It’s written across it. But he recovers quickly and flaps his hands at me to leave as Evie appears back on the screen, minus the children.

“All back working well then?” I ask him when he finally comes out of the bedroom of our tour bus, his face flushed and so fucking happy.

“Fuck yes.” He smiles as we set off down the steps of the bus and out into the festival grounds, a noticeable spring in his step. “It’s the weirdest thing, Xan. When I’m there I want to be with you lot, but I get here and all I want is her and the kids. I might ask her to come out. The babies need all the jabs and stuff, but once that’s done, if we’re still on tour, I’ll see if she’ll come. I mean, I don’t see why not. She’s not back at work officially.”

We’re striding towards the backstage areas, but it’s still a wide open space, when his tone changes, his voice dropping into a low growl. “I’ve had to tell Jude to fuck off a few times when he’s tried to get her to go up to London and help him out. If she’s doing that, she’ll start back to work and then no time for me or them. He’s a real dick at times.”

“Get her out here, then. Or better still, get her out to LA. She can stay at the beach and we can fly up and down. It’ll be less flying time.”

“Well, weirdly, it isn’t. I thought about that, too, but the flight times are the same more or less. She just needs to be here staying with us all. That’ll be much better. Even if just for a while.”

“Hey, Dad.” James comes towards us, kissing Kellen and ruffling his hair. Then does the same to me, the little shit. But he’s as tall as us both, and getting as broad, filling out as he’s getting older. Well that and the work out regimen I discussed with him. If he gets any wider, he’ll be picking us both up in one hand next. We both grin at him, we can’t help it, the boy is total sunshine on any given day.

“You singing with us tonight, sunshine? Give your old dad a night off?” I ask him.

“Fuck no.” He turns his grin on his dad. “He’s out here, so he can sing. I’m on first with my lot, so I’ll watch you afterwards. Great crowds in the Latino countries. Really know how to party, it’s amazing.” He walks off, every eye in the place on him.

“He’s so fucking good. They’re going to be bigger than us, way bigger. Have you seen the numbers?” I ask Marcus.

He nods, his face turning serious as he watches his son confidently cut through the throng of people hanging around the bar areas. He’s waving and smiling as people acknowledge him. Everyone wants to know him, everyone wants to be his friend. He doesn't stop though until he reaches his band mate.

Marcus sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. “We need to make sure he’s alright. That sort of shit messes with your head. Look what happened to us. I know I had other issues, but being so big, so famous, so well known so fast.”

He looks at me, his face a picture of pride in his son’s achievements. But trepidation lingers in his eyes knowing the huge pitfalls and how far and how fast things can get out of control, and in a mess. “Promise me you’ll help me with him, Xan. I don’t want to lose him to the shit we did.”

I nod at him ruefully. “Not sure how you’re going to stop it. It’s a fucking gravy train.”

“But we’re also driving the train, so let’s not let him get out of control. I’m a bit worried about Bucky already, which is why I want Evie out here as well. If she comes, Jonno will, and he’ll watch them all.”

I chuckle. “Fucking Jonno. He’s like Big Brother. Called me in LA asking me why I’d gone into a supermarket at 12:30 p.m. What did I buy? Then he cackled like a maniac and hung up.”

Marcus laughs. “He’s certainly not fully sane at times, but I’m glad he isn’t. He’s helped us out a lot with the Giles shit, and all that stuff with Grace. She’s left London, did you hear? Gone up north, Newcastle way I think. She didn’t dare go near Yorkshire.”

I nod and say, “He said he’ll keep tabs on her. I actually wanted to speak to him anyway. I have an idea for your birthday in March. Do you want another party?

He looks at me suspiciously. “What do you mean? A party, party? Not just a party?”

I laugh at him. “What are you on about? Yes a party, party. You’re a dad, not a fucking monk.”

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. But he knows I always sort the entertainment.

“Well, we can set it up in LA if you want, rather than France.” I raise my eyebrows at him, a mischievous glint in my eye. “Get Evie out, bring the nanny, and drag Kitten into another night of debauchery. If you’ve got a few days off, you can stay in LA then.”

“Okay, sounds good so far. What you thinking?”

He sounds so fucking suspicious now. I love pushing his buttons, winding him up. Didn’t think this would be such an issue for him. He’s in love so deep, his only concern is his wife.

“Well, inspired by you,” I point at him, “I thought the theme could be twins. Fancy dress, any sort of twinning, people can be creative.”

He looks at me. “What’s the entertainment going to be? Sets of twins fucking? That’ll freak her out, not get her in the mood!”

“We’ll do girl twins, and one man, so not so relatable.” I laugh.

“What do you want to do? See if someone wants to fuck the twins they’re with? You could invite one person and ask them to bring two others as the twins. Then they can decide if they want to fuck the twins or the single. Could be a fun night if people pick wisely.” He’s laughing now. “Bit tenuous, but it could work.” I can see his mind running it over. “You are such a fucked-up man. Are we twinning?” He gently pushes at me, joking. “We can be Castor and Pollux. I'd give you half my immortality any day of the week.”

“Would you give me half of your wife?” Once again, the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

The laugh dies on his face. “Is that something you still want?” he asks me, his face deadpan. “Is it?” He pushes the heel of his hand hard into my chest, his breath coming in pants.

Mine starts to mimic his. I don’t move, I’ve turned to stone. But, I can’t help myself. “Yes,” I state.

He stares into my face, and I’m frozen. I know my emotions are laid bare on it. The want, the fucking hope. He’s known me since I was a baby. We’ve never not known each other.

“Fuck, Xan, still?” he whispers, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s one of his tells, how agitated he is. I can see it escalating. “She’ll walk away from me, from us. It’s too much of a gamble. We already tried it in France.” He blows out a huge breath at that. The trauma is still on his beautiful face.

I shake my head at him, long and slow, considering every word. “No, Marcus. You fucked up, didn’t think it through. You’d lost your mind. You need to be clear. We need to be clear on our intentions.”

He’s looking at me intently now, and I can see the anger building up in him as he contemplates what I’m asking of him. “And what exactly are we being clear about?” His hand is on his chin, rubbing thoughtful at it. “You want us all to date each other? Or you and her, and me and her?”

He settles both hands on his hips, his stance widening, getting ready for a fight. “What exactly are we being clear on? Or is it just a fuck?” His voice raises on fuck, incredulous. “Or a bit of sharing, then her and I go back to being together and you fuck off back to whipping people with Jonno?”

His eyes are widening by the second as he thinks about all the permutations. I can see he thinks none of them are good.

I stand and stare at him. I know what I want, but I don’t know if I can ask him. Then I think back to my dad telling me I had to be brave and make a decision. I thought at the time he was telling me so I could leave if I needed to, now I’m not so sure.

“What if I want it all? You, her, us all together.”

We’re stood in a corner of a fucking field in the middle of Chile. What the fuck am I doing blowing up my life? Marcus, my friend of thirty-seven years, the person I have loved man and boy, now in love with, and the husband of the woman I am in love with, is staring at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind. And I think he may be right. I feel like I have lost it. I feel like my insides have been sliced open and my whole guts are spilling onto the green grass. Staining everything.

“All of us,” he says quietly, “all together. You and me out in the open, then her, with you and with me. Fuck, Xan, that’s…” He goes quiet. “That’s what you want?”

I nod at him, not able to speak. He looks as shell-shocked as I am.

“Is that why you left?” he asks me softly.

I nod again, holding his intense green gaze.

When I finally look away, not able to hold it anymore, I focus up at the clear blue sky, blowing out the breath I’m holding. Worried he’s going to lay into me and then just walk away, leaving me grabbing at my innards scattered on the floor with all my wits.

“How long have you known you wanted that?” he asks quietly.

This must be bad, this man is never quiet.

“Forever. I’ve never lied to you about it. You probably thought I was joking, as usual. I told you at eighteen what I wanted. You wouldn’t then, couldn’t understand what I wanted, I don’t think I did fully. But will you now?”

I’m back to staring intently into his eyes. Pleading with him. My whole fucking body and life is pleading with him.

But instead of dropping the axe, culling me from his life, he surprises me and says, “Don’t take her from me Xander. I know you could. You’re probably the only one who could.” His face is full of panic. Of doubt. “I know you always liked her, loved her. Why didn’t you say you wanted more with her when we were young? I wouldn’t have asked her out.” He’s watching me closely, hardly hanging onto his emotions, his fears on full display.

I grin at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Bullshit. You kissed her in that river and you were a goner, probably before that if you’re honest with yourself. You wanted her so fucking badly, so I let you.”

He looks at me sharply. Don’t think that helped.

“Did you though? I know she kissed you in the churchyard, I saw you. You never said a word about it.” His eyebrows are at his hairline, questioning my intentions from back then. “But yeah, after I kissed her and the night we saw her in the lodge, yeah I wanted her. So fucking much. I never shut up about her.” He points his finger at me. “You never said you wanted her out loud, so I stepped forwards to ask.” He’s jabbing it towards me now. “So like I said, don’t take her from me. You’ll make us all fucking miserable if you do.”

His eyes are burning into mine. I can feel the searing heat from them. His anger, mixed with trepidation.

I grab his elbow and tow him out of sight of the main field. He doesn’t fight me, he allows it. I spin him around so that we’re nose to nose. “I don’t want to fucking take her from you.” I enunciate every single word. “I’ve told you, I want you and her.”

I pause and take another deep breath, hardly believing I’m asking this of him, myself, never mind asking him out loud. “Call me selfish, I know I am. Call me the greediest bastard on this earth, and I’d take that.” I hold both of his arms. “Because you, me, her —that is what I want.”

Relief washes over me at my confession. At last I’ve put it out there.

“I would never take her from you,” My face must show the hurt, the pain of what that would do to me, as he makes a noise at the back of his throat. I soldier on. “Because doing that does not get me what I want.”

I gaze into his eyes. He is a glorious man, the body of a god, but he knows it. And I fucking want it all.

“Fuck, Xan, I can almost see it.” He has a dazed look on his face now. A glow around him. But it’s tinged with sadness. “But I don’t know. She might freak out and think we’ve played her all along.” The horror of that dawns on his face. He starts to involuntarily shake his head. “‘The Spectator Sport’ she calls it. Well it would be with both of us. Jesus, the whole fucking world will be watching.”

He’s drifting off into unknown territory. Unknown horrors. And I punch his shoulder to get him to focus.

“Just us, Marcus. Not one other person.” I’m ducking my head to make sure he focuses on my face. “I’m happy to do that for us, no one else. I don’t want any spectators. We have never had one single spectator, ever. And I am not interested in starting that now. I never was with the ones I love.” I waggle my finger backwards and forwards between the two of us. My face is serious, my heart rate running wild, along with my imagination.

He looks poleaxed. I know I’ve just blown his world wide open. But is it to wondrous possibilities, or to a black hole of pain? I don’t think either of us know.

“We’ll have to tread carefully.” His mind is mulling it over, his thoughts voiced aloud. “I don’t want her to run again, and take my babies with her.” Now we’re getting to the absolute fears, the truth. “Fuck, that will be a disaster, I don’t think I’d survive it again. I couldn’t face it. Life would be over for me.”

His face is haunted as he clearly thinks of the time pre-Evie with his first wife and then when he was in LA and Evie at home, pregnant. The tortured life he led at that time.

I close my eyes. I don’t want to hurt them. That is the last thing I would ever want. “She didn’t want me to leave Scotland, was hanging onto me. Fuck, that was hard not to touch her like I wanted to. I wanted to tell you, but I left instead,” I admit, trying to rationalise my feelings.

“She wanted you in Devon at Christmas. I heard her onto Marshall about it. He kept telling her not to call you. That’s where James gets it from. She's relentless. But Marshall took her phone, said you needed a life of your own.”

I laugh out at that. “I want a life of my own, with you two. Just different from what we have now, but also kind of the same.”

I can see it, life as we are now. How we all fucking fit so well. How we love so well. It’s innate. It’s bone deep. Soul deep.

The sun is starting to set—hopefully not on my happiness—as a shout comes across the wide open expanse of the festival field, breaking the intensity of the situation.

“Oy, lovebirds, get over here and see my fucking show— dads ,” James, shouting out to us both. We can see his cheeky grin from all the way across the field.

We look at each other, my eyes getting wider. “Is he bugging us, do you think?” My voice is edged with panic. “Jonno would, and he says James is better than him.” I start to chew my lip, worry picking at my stomach.

“Fuck. What will we tell them?” Marcus gasps out. “They might not speak to us, tell us to fuck off. Xan, I have to think this through.” He’s hit another panic button. But before he can go into total meltdown, James starts up again.

“Hurry the fuck up,” he shouts, still grinning like a Cheshire cat at us, and waves for us to follow him.

“Fucking kids,” pants out Marcus, trying to laugh, but it comes out more like a strangled cat meow.

We follow. I know I shouldn’t. He hasn’t agreed to anything, but I feel totally high. He didn’t say ‘No way fuck off’. He didn’t punch me in the face and batter me black and blue. He could have. He was certainly entitled to do that, but he didn’t.

Could this be? Could we do this? I need to be clear on what I want. I need them to be clear that I want it to be for us all. I know it will be all or nothing. Of that I am absolutely certain. Not a one and done, not a one night party fuck and leave. I know with every breath in my body, every fibre of my heart and soul—If I am lucky enough to get my hands on them both, it will be game over for me.