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

Chapter 15

15

Xander

“Why?! You fucking idiot, you’ve ruined it. She’ll fucking leave.” Marcus is shouting down the phone. I can hear the fear and the panic. I called him the minute I left her, sitting in a zombie-like state. She was utterly blank, trying to figure out what we’ve done. How we’ve messed it all up.

“I had to. Do you think it would have played out better if we were in a room? No, Marcus, she’d have definitely thought we played her then.” He didn’t see her face, the pain, the torment. I know I’m right.

“I’ll be there by 10:30. If she’s down at the party, then I suppose we’ll know.” He sounds totally depressed and defeated.

Turning up with everyone in tow, including the lost-now-found Gabe and the chilled-out Levi, his face is a mask of worry. I grab him, dragging him into the speak-a-word room, leaving the rest of them to Himself.

“Where is she? How is she?” are the first words out of his mouth. He looks thoroughly dishevelled, his hair a mess where he’s been running his hands through it. His lips looked bruised, he’s clearly been chewing them.

“Still in her room. The boys have been fed and are gone with the nanny for the night, but she’s not come out.” The panic seeping into my voice, it wobbles on the last bit.

“Has anyone gone in? Has Orla?” He’s trying to be rational. But with his whole life on the line, I can see his stress levels are off the scale, he’s twitching.

“No.” I shake my head at him. “Bug doesn’t want her involved. I’ve told him what’s what, but he thinks we should leave her to figure it out on her own.” I’m wringing my hands at this point.

“What did Bug say?”

I smile at him, thinking about the big Irishman getting tears in his eyes as I spilled my guts about how much I love Evie and his cousin.

“‘What took you so long?’ And he gave me a hug. You know how he is over Kitten.” It’s the only highlight in this mess.

“Fuck. I can’t believe you told her.” Marcus is bug-eyed, looking up at the ceiling. His eyebrows are up near his hairline. He clearly thinks I made a mistake.

“Fuck off, Marcus. You think ambushing her would have been better? I’m telling you no way. If what she said is anything to go by, she would have walked then. If it’s a No now, then fair enough. It’s been asked and all out in the open. It’s up to her now.” I’m trying to hang onto my sanity.

“We could have talked her around together.” He’s still trying to rationalise it. Think it through.

“No, we couldn't. She wouldn’t have been listening. She would have been in a fucking black tent trying to be fucked by two men again.”

He looks skyward, he knows he messed up last year in France.

“James told me to ask her, not play games,” I confess to him.

“You definitely haven’t done that!” He scrubs his hand down his face. “What shall I do? Shall I get ready for the party? Or just wait?” He truly has no clue what to do. Neither of us do. “I’ll get dressed,” he decides, “just in case this shit show sorts itself out.” He smiles at me. “I wasn’t having a go at you, Xan. It’s just, fuck, a shock you went for it.”

He smiles at me then looks me up and down. He’s never down for long. “You look good as Castor.” He spins me round. On the back of the perfectly fitted black suit is the name. Pulling out his suit, identical to mine with Pollux on the back, he asks, “Have you got the masks?”

I nod and hand one over. Black again, identical.

He showers in the little room off the office, coming out with his hair greased back the same as mine. He seems to have recovered a little.

“Xan, it’ll be fine, don’t worry. It will all be fine.” I think he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “Fuck, you look good in that suit. If she stays…” he trails off.

What a nightmare. Have I done the wrong thing? I don’t think so. If he would have said one thing in that room full of sex, she would assume Marcus was trying to get her into his ‘lifestyle’, ergo anything goes. She would have been more upset. I know this is the right thing, whichever way it goes.

Dad walks into the room. “Marcus, here at last. Do you need to eat? Most everyone is royally plastered already.” He hugs Marcus to him. “Has Xan told you about Evie?” He stares at Marcus upfront and candidly.

Marcus draws in a breath and looks at me, shocked. “You told your dad?”

I shrug. “He already knew.”

“You boys are about as subtle as bricks. If you actually follow your own careers, your behaviour is pretty easy to pattern. You’ve been hiding in plain sight for years, so I just told Xander what I thought. But I think she’s bothered by what people will think, even if you aren’t.” He holds his hand up as Marcus starts to talk. “You know how these things go. She’ll be the one pointed at, not you two. Her children will be questioned. She’ll be the woman with two men in her life. Not you two with a boyfriend and a wife.” We look at each other.

“I know,” I say, sighing, “we need to protect her and them as much as possible. If she comes, of course.”

“Is she still in her room?” Dad asks me.

I nod. “Not moved. Even Betty seems worried.” He rolls his eyes at that.

“Look, get ready, go meet and greet your guests, business as normal, and what will be will be.”

I stand, looking out the window towards the Loch. I can see people milling around, moving towards the tent as a siren sounds. Fuck, it’s 11:00 p.m. It’s dark out, but no rain. For once in Scotland in the Highlands, it’s a dry night. A wind is whipping off the Loch and the moon is full. It looks beautiful. Ethereal. A night the fairies could be out and about.

Dad leaves the room and Marcus comes over and stands behind me. I can feel his hard body on mine. “You smell good, I missed you.” He touches my arse, and moves his hand around me. When I turn my head back, he kisses me, and I turn full round, grab his head, and kiss him hard.

“Happy fucking birthday. Thirty-eight. God, you’re old.” I laugh at him as he pouts.

“Fuck off,” he snaps.

“Whatever happens, I?—”

He puts a finger to my mouth. “Don’t say it, Xan. I don’t want to even think about it.”

Kissing me again, we then walk out.

“Let’s start with a few shots. We’re way behind, and I need some courage,” he says, morphing into Marcus Russell—Rockstar. Trying to numb out anything else.

Everyone is coming over to see him. He loves this, being the centre of attention. It’s who he is, what he does this for.

“Where’s my sister?” Jude demands, ambushing us. Isobel is holding onto his hand for grim death. They’ve twinned with clothes and masks. I raise my eyes at the new development. Clearly Jude has been convinced by her stories.

“Upstairs sorting out the babies,” Marcus lies smoothly.

Jude looks at us both, his brows pulled down into a scowl, but says nothing else.

“Is Jonno here?” I ask him, trying to deflect him off the topic of Evie.

“No. Lucky for you, he’s still in Ireland with Marshall. And Jackson’s in the US, so just me to watch you two fuckheads,” Jude snaps but then smirks at us.

I shrug. “Watch away, but I’m sure Isobel will keep you entertained. Who’s your single?” I grin back at them both.

“We’re not having one. Issy isn’t bothered about it, so—” He nods towards Issy, but his face looks altogether pissed off.

I fake smile at her. Funny how someone who you’d been so involved with for years growing up, now wishing you never bothered at all. I see Issy for what she is, always did. I knew she could be a nasty piece of work, just didn’t think she was a potential murderer as well. I’m downright amazed that she’s managed to bamboozle Jude into being her boyfriend. She must have worked fucking hard on that one.

But Marcus always made a fuss of her, too. At least until the revelations of almost a year ago. She’s definitely on the outs with him. Somehow, he’s strategically distanced her without causing himself issues with his mother.

I think back to when we were young. She was always wary of me, and usually tried at least once a year to get rid of me. She stopped that when the Greystones turned up, moving on to Evie instead. Then at University she caused a tonne of shit for Caroline, even though the woman was pregnant and soon to be Marcus’s wife. Which again I wasn’t bothered about, as I didn’t like Caroline myself. The theme was always the same for Issy. Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. Trying to get his attention any way she could. And causing as much trouble as she could muster for the person she was trying to remove from Marcus’s orbit in the process.

“Is Evie coming?” She stands in front of Marcus, all innocence and concern. “I’d like to talk to her, or try to at least. I want to do it for Jude. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to for him, for the family. Do you think she would?” she asks Marcus, batting her eyelashes, trying to look like she actually cares. I can see she’s faking it.

“Probably not the best place, this, Issy. Maybe wait ‘til you're all back in London. Or are you going to the farm in Devon?” He looks at Jude for answers.

“We haven’t been there yet,” Jude confirms what I already suspected. “But Evie will have to deal with it sooner or later,” he adds firmly. He’s such a tosser.

“Well, I’m sure Kitten wouldn’t mind if you go as long as you let her know. So she can avoid you if she wants to.” I smirk at him, he can go fuck himself. Evie will not have to ‘deal’ if she doesn’t want to, and he knows it. He’s all bravado, until the shit hits the fan.

“Fuck you, Xan. What’s it to you?” His charade of politeness drops faster than a lead balloon. He doesn’t like me pointing out he might be in the wrong here in some way.

“Just saying, anyone would think you’re in charge. That it’s you calling the shots. The CEO Jude Greystone. But you’ve never been off the phone since Evie had the twins, trying to get her back to do your work for you because you can’t.” They all look at me, even Marcus, with wide eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Kellen, and fuck you, Xander,” he spits at me as he pulls Issy away by the hand. She’s practically twisting herself into two to stare back at Marcus, a desperate expression on her face.

“Why don’t you tell her to fuck off, Kell? She’s fucking horrible. She doesn’t want to make up with Kitten, she just wants to cause shit. She’s obviously convinced Jude that she swerved to miss Evie, and didn’t mean it. But fuck, really? Would you want her near Evie and the kids? No fucking chance. Do not let that woman near our family.” My face is serious, but it gets less so as he keeps grinning at me.

He squeezes my elbow in a comforting gesture. Trying to calm me down.

“Wow, going for it tonight, baby.” He laughs at me, taking the piss. “I know the score with that one. Don’t worry. Let's get drinks and go to the room.” His eyes dart around the field. “Tent isn’t it? Is the show good?” His voice is picking up speed. “Is it the two girls who look like twins but aren’t?” He’s starting to pant as his anxiety hits and panic is setting in, depleting the oxygen in his lungs.

I nod, I can’t do anything else. My head feels too heavy for my neck. My limbs like someone added ten tonne weights onto them. Kell’s face is a reflection of my agitation, and dread.

“May as well take advantage of the show then. Fuck, I hope she comes. I think I’m gonna throw up.” His eyes are utterly wild now. And getting wilder and wilder. Oh fuck, if he loses it…

I blow out a breath, and pray. I hope we haven’t left it too late to put it all on the table. We should have told her in Brazil. We had a chance and didn’t take it. She even tried to talk to me about it.

I close my eyes as Kell brushes my hand and nods his head to the group moving towards the tents.

Up ahead, we see a model, who must be with John Clayton, and also Miss Ringmaster. He’d asked for them both, they’d agreed. They all come over, fawning all over Kell, and he laps it up as usual. Marcus fucking Russell is back on form. And putting on the best show in the house. The man positively punches a bright light into the night sky.

Clayton comes over. “Where’s Kitten?”

“Fucking Kitten?” I shout at him, my light is shining into the abyss. “It's Evie to you.” I’m clearly losing the plot, and I don’t fucking care anymore.

“Who are you talking about, John?” The girls ask him.

“Their Evie.” He nods his head at us. “Where is she? I need to give her a kiss from Kasey. She’s been ringing him, going to see him, he says.” He smirks at us, trying and succeeding in pissing us off.

“Fuck off, John. And stay the fuck away from my wife,” Marcus snaps at him. He isn’t even joking.

One of the girls looks shocked at how venomous Marcus is. I think the pressure is getting to him.

“I liked your Evie. She had balls,” Miss Ringmaster says appreciatively, eyeing us both up in a very clinical fashion.

“You stay the fuck away from our woman as well,” Marcus says to her, albeit slightly less aggressively.

The model again looks amazed. She’s clearly never heard a party host be so aggressive to his guests.

“Is she really that good? I heard a load of shit from other models on a shoot about her.” She’s trying to clarify, sounding genuinely curious at the conflicting accounts.

“She’s fabulous,” declares the ringmaster. “Can’t wait to meet up with her again.” She laughs at Marcus’s face, his growl matching the murderous intent in his eyes.

We hear music and other sounds coming across the night. Time to go. We head upstairs to wait and see what the woman everyone is asking about decides to do. My heart is thudding. I think it’s trying to escape the shit show I created. My stomach is in knots.

I grab my chest and Marcus stares over at me. “You gonna survive?” He looks as terrified as me. His hair, that was greased back, looks like a scarecrow, a complete mess where he’s raked it over and over. His face is pale. His green eyes, usually so full of life, look like they’re bleeding out.

I shake my head. “Not sure,” I push out. I must look the same as him. I pull at the collar of my shirt. It feels too tight, too hot. Jesus, I’m not going to survive. I’m a basket case already.

The show has started by the time we’re in. With drinks already lined up, Marcus downs a lot of them. I have hardly any. I can’t focus on the stage, where two of the most beautiful women are being tied and trussed up, licked, spanked and whipped. Oh, and now fucked.

“I can’t even get hard watching that,” says Marcus with disgust, thumbing towards the stage as he turns his back on the scene and faces me.

I offer a knowing smile at that. I know exactly how he feels.

My watch, that at one point I thought had stopped, now seems to have sped up. I stare at it again. It’s 11:30. She’s not coming. We’ve blown it, big style. I’ve blown it big style.

“Shall we go to her?” I ask him, doubts starting to creep in that this was my best idea. Leave her alone. Let her work through it.

“What if she’s left?” He suddenly gasps out in horror. His face going, if possible, more ashen. He jerkily moves towards the door.

“No.” I stop him. “I’ve got Jase watching her door, and Mick is watching the car and is with Tommy. She’ll take Tommy with her. She needs him to get the kids. I’ve got my phone.” I waft my phone in my hand, praying the damn thing doesn’t ring. I’ve checked it about forty times to make sure the ringer is on.

“I thought it was the rule to hand your phone in on arrival,” Marcus splutters out. He’s dense at times.

“Not mine, you idiot,” I say, exasperated. “Let’s wait ‘til midnight. If she hasn’t come by then, well, we’ll go see what the verdict is from her mouth.” I look down. Please god, no. “Although we’ll know it.”

I stop and cast a glance to the stage. I couldn’t care less if a hundred women were up on it. I only want one.

“I wanted her to come to us, though. So fucking much. That would mean she’s in. And if she’s like that, then she’s all in, we know that much.”

I sit down on the booth seat, my back against the wall. I can hear people fucking all around us. I have no interest at all. I look at the man who would tempt the devil into debauchery. He comes over, and takes off my mask. I didn’t even realise I still had the thing on. He bends and kisses me tenderly on the lips.

“Don’t go there yet, Xan.” He stands and looks out over the balcony area, looking but not seeing. He looks haggard. The stress lining his handsome face.

We wait and we wait. I have my head in my hands.

It's just midnight.

The buzzer rings, letting partygoers know they can move into different areas of the tent, stay put, or move to their own rooms if they want to. Tears pool in my eyes. All my hopes and dreams have gone up with that fucking buzzer.

Marcus makes a strangled noise in his throat and hangs his head. Sliding down the wall in the corner of the room, he starts to sob.

The door opens, but I don’t look up. I have my face covered and I think I’m going to pass out.

Times up.