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

Chapter 52

52

Xander age 15

Eastwood Estate, Yorkshire

It’s Marcus’s 16 th birthday, and he’s buzzing. “Marcus you do know there is not a lot you can do at sixteen other than get married, which I’m sure you don’t want to do. Oh, and have sex. That’s it.” I’m pretending to be blasé.

“That’s it? Are you kidding?” he’s laughing at me, he’s hyper.

“But the other person has to be sixteen as well,” I reiterate. Trying to temper him.

“I know that, you idiot. At least I can practise on anyone over the age of sixteen.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, rubbing his hands together as if he’s getting ready for action.

“They have to agree to this, you know,” I say to him, starting to laugh at his antics. He’s doing stretches now. In preparation for what, I’m not sure.

“Duh, of course. Tell everyone to form a queue, and no pushing or shoving in the line. I can accommodate everybody. Everyone will be catered for.” He’s lost his mind. There’s no fucking queue.

“You can’t even have a drink in the pub,” I tell him, “so no changes on that front. We can still have a drink at home, but that’s it. So I don’t know why you’re so happy.”

He just sits, grinning at me. “I’m going to ask Evie to date me, before my party.”

Ah now we’re getting to it.

“She’s not sixteen until November. You can’t touch her, Marcus.” My voice is getting higher pitched the more concerned I get. “If you do, it will?—”

“I’m not going to touch her,” he scoffs. “What do you think I am? I don’t want to die young. And besides, I'm happy to wait. I just want to make sure she knows my intentions.” He’s rubbing his hands like he’s some villain cooking up a cunning plot.

“Your fucking intentions. You sound like you’re proposing.”

He carries on smiling at me, but his eyes are not focused on me. He’s thinking about a beautiful, grey-eyed girl.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” he asks me. “To the dating, not the sex,” he adds as an afterthought.

I nod.

“I know we help her out with her homelife issues, and she stays here sometimes. I don’t want her to think I want her here just to date her, though.” He looks worried. “She was talking about moving in with the Greystones. One of the nosey villagers is on her case, about her dad not being here all the time. I think I might have to get my dad to shut the villagers down, or try to help her. Do you think he will? I don’t want to make it worse.”

He’s trying to decide what to do for the best. We both are. We don’t want her to have to leave. I get a pain in my chest just thinking about that.

“We need to speak to Jonno and see what the plan is. They’ll definitely have one. They’re always borrowing law books out of your library. I know it’s for research, what they can and can’t do. I asked my dad, from a lawyer's point of view, in a roundabout way a few months ago. He said if a person under sixteen is living alone, they will be taken into the care system.”

“Is the house hers? Do you know?” Marcus queries.

I shake my head. “No idea. She’s never said. She told me she has a friend who helps her. He’s practically moved in with her. He’s generally able to keep the village quiet.”

“Well, we only have eight months to go, so we better keep her safe,” he says.

“Is she coming to your party, the dinner? You have a lot of friends coming. Is she coming as your girlfriend?”

“I hope so. That’s why I’m asking her beforehand, this afternoon. I want her to come with me.” He looks so happy, but I feel a little twinge of jealousy.

“I’m fucking jealous. Oh my god. I am,” I tell him. We’ve always been honest with each other, and I won’t ever stop. He needs to know.

He stops dead and looks at me, intently. “Xander, I?—”

I blow out a breath. “I know, but I’m still fucking jealous. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and as wild as that river you pulled her into. I don’t envy you mostly, but I do her.”

We stare at each other. “She loves you, Xander. She told me she did,” he says quietly, confirming what I already know.

I nod. “I know, but she’ll still date you. She loves you as well.” I can’t get any more words out.

He pats my back. “I love you, Xan. You know that, don’t you? And I won’t stop just because of her. I’m not going anywhere.”

I can see he’s telling the truth, but I’m still conflicted. “I know, Marcus. Just take care of her, because it won’t be popular with your other friends. They don’t like the Greystones. They think they’re too cocky for ‘just farmers.’”

He acknowledges that he knows the score. “I know. I’ve told Issy I’m asking her out, so she knows to look after Evie for me.”

He says it like he thinks that will solve any issues. I can see his thinking, girls helping girls.

But I roll my eyes at that. “You know she won’t, don’t you?” Honestly, at times he is so thick.

He frowns at me. “Of course she will. She’s my friend as well. I’ve known her as long as I’ve known you, and you’re happy for me.” He lives in a world of his own making at times. I think his mother’s delusion rubs off on him.

“Whatever. But I don’t think she, or anyone else, will be happy, so be ready.”

He screws his face up in disbelief. He thinks everyone will be happy with his choice, but I know Issy. And his mother will absolutely not be in his corner for this. Evie is too opinionated, too confident in herself, too ‘fuck you’ for them. They can’t control her, and his mother likes control.

Marcus age 16

Eastwood Estate Yorkshire

I wait at the corner of Greystone farm to see if Evie’s there. Jonno passes by on a tractor, heading into a field near the house. “She’s down by Sandy Lane with Jude. They’re supposed to be working it,” he shouts over the engine, rolling his eyes. “They’ve fallen out twice today already. I don’t know what’s up with Evie, she's a nightmare at the minute.” He honks his horn and drives into the field.

Oh god, I need her in a good mood. Otherwise she’ll say no, and not care if I’m upset or not. Especially if Jude’s been winding her up.

Sandy Lane is a good fifteen minute walk, so I set off at a jog. I need to get to her before Jude can really piss her off.

My heart stops beating when I see her coming towards me, looking like the hounds of hell have been unleashed. She’s red in the face and even from this distance I can see she’s fuming.

I wave at her, but she doesn’t wave back. She doesn’t give a shit at times about anything. I love that about her.

“What’s up?”

She doesn’t answer. Carries on stomping straight past me, towards the farm.

“Are you still coming to my birthday dinner?” I call after her.

She stops dead, turning back towards me, her face changing from fuming to a smile. “Oh, Kellen. Happy birthday.” Kissing my cheek and hugging me, she says, “I’m sorry I ignored you. Jude he?—”

She stops and just shakes her head a little, as if she’s shaking away the last of her anger. She’s never angry for long. It's like a storm rolling in, blasting everything in its path, then dissipating quickly.

“Err, I don’t have anything to wear. I was supposed to go clothes shopping with Pat, but she had to go with Jackson into London. Something to do with the army.”

She looks down at her boots, an old pair of Blundstones I gave her. They’re worn down to the floor, and they need mending. But she loves them, and never takes them off.

“I don’t have any shoes either. They’re at my house, and I’m not going there with Pat away. If the nosey neighbour sees me, she’ll ring the police or something.” She pulls a face, and I can see the disgust aimed at the neighbour.

“I don’t care what you come in, as long as you come. I want you there.” I grab hold of her hand and thread my fingers through hers. “I want you to come, Xan wants you to come.” I know she likes to do things for Xander, and I'll use anything to get her there.

“I want you to come as my girlfriend,” I say in a rush, my eyes searching her face for a response. I don’t think she’s heard me, as she doesn’t say anything, and her face doesn’t change. It remains blank. But then she bites her lip and I can’t take my eyes off them.

“Your girlfriend?” she echoes eventually. “What about the other girls? Or Issy? They told me you went with her.” She looks away as she says it.

But I start to laugh. “No fucking chance.” I pull her towards me. “I want you to come as my girlfriend. I want us to spend time together when I’m home from school. I don’t want you to see anyone else when I’m away, and I won’t either.”

“So you're not talking to anyone else?” she asks. “Because Issy said you had about five girls you were talking to.” She’s totally sceptical. She’s seen all the girls here over the summers. She’s seen how they flutter around me. How much I like it.

“I was, but not now. If you say yes, no one else.”

“Privileged,” she says sarcastically, and looks towards the farm.

Fuck. She has someone else. What if she has five others she’s talking to.

“You know what I mean. I don’t want you talking to anyone at your school.” I need to be clear on this. “Even when I’m not here. And when I come home, I want it to be just us,” I tell her, reaching out to touch her face and hair. God she smells like heaven, rose, and summer rain.

“I don’t care what you wear, but please come.” I’m virtually begging as I look at her face. Those beautiful, big, expressive, grey eyes not hiding anything today. Clear and smiling at me, god so smiling at fucking me.

“I’d love to come to your dinner. And I’ll even date you,” she tells me, as if she’s doing me a big favour. I can hardly contain my smile, because she is.

“Don’t get me a present,” I tell her. “I know you won’t have time and I don’t want you to worry about it. Just coming to the party is enough.” I grin and hold her hands. My heart is beating out of my chest. “Can I walk you home?” I say, pointing down the lane.

She smiles and nods and we walk on, talking and laughing, with me getting closer and closer to her. I’ll be tripping her up next.

Jonno goes past on the tractor in the field, honking his horn at us.

“Have you asked my brothers?” she asks me.

“No, I don’t have enough places. My mother has asked people we have in the summer to come. So I’ll have to do something with just us after they’ve gone home,” I explain, making it obvious where my preference lies.

She nods at that. “Jonno got some old speakers working the other day. I’ve taken them to Bowman's Lodge. I’ve also got some old fleece blankets to brighten up the settee there. So we could have a fire and do something there. We can get food and stuff.” She smiles at me, the plan lighting her up. They love plans, the Greystones. Always cooking one up.

I’m staring at her face again, I can’t look away. God, she’s absolutely mesmerising, and my heart is going into overdrive. But I play it cool. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Let me know.”

I pull her towards me as we get to the gates and peck her on the lips. I want to kiss her so much. So I touch her lips with mine again, and she melts into me. I plant my lips on hers more firmly, my mind totally focused on her and how good she feels in my arms. God knows how long we’re stood there, kissing in that gate.

But then I hear a horn blow and we both jump apart. Jonno has pulled up in the tractor, and we never even heard it arrive.

He's grinning at us, shouting, “Thought you’d be there all night.”

I make a shooing motion with my hands, but pull Evie out of the way. “Come for seven tonight. Don’t worry about clothes, just come,” I beg her, all pretence dropped.

She laughs. “I don’t think your mother would appreciate me naked.”

I start to laugh with her—“You know what I mean”—and I kiss her lips again. Now I’ve started, I can’t stop. But I have to. “Seven,” I reiterate, walking away as she nods.

I try my hardest not to look around as I walk down the lane. ‘Play it cool, you idiot,’ I’m telling myself. But I get to the bend in the lane and I can’t resist any more. I look back, she waves at me, and I see her laugh. “She fucking knows,” I say to myself and grin.

Evie age 15

Greystone Farm, Yorkshire

I hear the knock at the door. Pat is out with Jackson for the day, and all the Greystone men are working the farm, so I shoot up the stairs to look down on the front door without being seen. It’s the two girls who are friends with Kellen and Xander. They’re not too friendly towards me unless Kellen is there, but at least it isn’t one of the village ladies. So I go down, step over the array of shoes I’m trying to make fit, and open the door.

“Hey,” I say, smiling at them. May at least try and be nice. They both smile at me, but I can tell it’s forced. I bet Kellen told them to come.

“Marcus said he asked you to the party but you hadn’t had time to get something to wear. So we thought we could bring you some dresses to try on. They’re old ones of mine.”

Isobel is smiling at me. But it never seems to reach her eyes, a tell-tale sign Jonno and I look for. We’ve studied body language, especially tell-tale signs of lying. I need to know if someone is going to grass me up, we need to be prepared.

“Oh that’s really kind of you. Please come in, mind the mess. I was trying to find a pair of shoes that might fit. Pat has a few, but they’re all too big. But on weird occasions she buys ones that she likes even if they don’t fit her.” I shake my head and laugh. They don’t react at all, but look at me like I’m mad.

“Anyway, we have these old dresses, have a look through.'' They dump them on the kitchen table as they sit down, and I can see them having a good look round, their heads and eyes on a swivel. The nosey gits.

I pick a dress out. It’s a nice grey, the rest are very gaudy and not me at all.

The friend makes a strangled noise when I pick out the dress. “Is that even a dress? It’s a bit boring, Evie. Surely you want to make a splash as Marcus’s girlfriend.” She says the word with great emphasis. He must have told them.

“Oh, he told you, did he?” I smile at them. It’s then I realise he hasn’t. Jonno will kill me. Idiot rule 101: never confirm or deny. It’s Kellen’s fault. He's messed with my head.

They both look sour. “To be fair, that dress is perfect for her,” Isobel states with so much obvious nefarious intent, I almost laugh.

“Oh yes, it’s the nicest dress, suits your colouring.” The other one tries to cover the nastiness.

“Are you getting your hair and nails done?” Issy asks.

I shake my head. “No, I was getting a shower, that's it. Am I supposed to?” I’m going for the total country bumpkin they clearly think I am, so I ham it up.

I see Issy nudge her friend as she says, “No, you don’t need to dress up, really. It’s just a few friends, most of whom you've met at different times. Not fancy at all.” God these two are so thick.

“Well, I smell a bit, so a shower, but that’s it. Perfect. I’ve got to run an errand and then I’ll get ready. Kell said seven.” I stand to push them out, picking up the dresses I don’t want and giving them back. “It’s really kind of you to come. I didn’t think you liked me much,” I say with maximum cheese.

“Of course we like you. And now you’re going with Marcus, everyone will like you.”

I doubt that, but smile at them like I actually believe them. Idiots.

Seeing them leave, talking heads together, I go out the back and jump on my bike. I need to go the back way into my house for shoes. Even that dress would need better shoes. Pat has a belt that will jack the waist in, changing the silhouette. She also has a lovely necklace with grey stones in it and pearls, and it will look lovely. Hair and nails. I laugh out loud at that one. I was telling the truth about the shower, that’s it for me.

The nosey neighbour is in her garden when I get to my street. I can’t get into my house without her seeing me. I’ll just have to figure something out with a pair of Pat’s black ballet pumps. Maybe push some toilet roll into the backs?

Not much to do but head back, and as time is ticking on, I head straight into the shower and wash my hair. Borrow some of Pat's makeup, very minimal. A bit of black eyeliner. I bought a magazine with blow by blow pictures of how to do a smokey eye. I must say it looks amazing. I dry my hair out and go for it a bit up and a bit down. I think this dinner is going to be well fancy.

I smile at Kellen telling me not to bother about my clothes. He’s so not bothered about anything, other than maybe Xander. I put on the dress, belt, and necklace, and write a note for Pat telling her what I’ve borrowed. She won’t mind, but I like to be open with her.

I head downstairs into the hallway to pick up all the shoes, but notice they’re all gone. I shout out for the boys, but no one comes, or answers. I thought I heard the door go earlier, when I was in the shower, but no one came in. The only thing in the hallway cupboard is my old boots. I go through the whole house, no shoes.

Sitting on the bottom step, I contemplate my situation. I can’t go, not in these boots and this get up. I’ll look like a total idiot. I beep Jonno on his pager, and sit and wait.

He storms through the door. “What did those bitches do? I saw them about thirty minutes ago, running out of the yard and into a car with one of those older boys who hangs with Kellen.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Took all the shoes. Why? Why would they? I don’t have any, and none of them fit anyway.”

“Because they’re jealous to death of you, baby sis. You’re so much better than them, and they know it. It pisses them off. I bet Kellen’s asked you out, hasn’t he?” I nod. “Yeah, thought so. They want you embarrassed, and at a disadvantage. Or better still, not turn up. Well, you’re going, shoes or none. I don’t fucking care, you’re going to that dinner.”

I’ve not seen Jonno as emotional for ever. He’s well worked up.

“Jonno, I have my boots, that’s it. I tried to get home, but the neighbour from hell is in the garden. I can’t get any. A pair of shoes is not worth leaving here.” I shrug my shoulders at him. He knows the score.

“Well, you’re going. You look stunning sis. You’ll be the most glamorous person in that room. And not only that, you’re worth a hundred times any of them, and Kellen fucking knows it. So does Xan. Stick with them, they’ll not let them say anything to you.”

I grin at my brother. He's fuming. “Jonno, don’t do anything stupid. Let's think about what we do?” I grin at him. “They’ll get theirs, baby bro, I guarantee it. No one messes with the Greystones.” I smirk. “And besides, I know I’m better. They tried to give me a shitty dress, and I’m so great I make it look like a million dollars.” I stand and do a twirl.

He grins at me. “That is an amazing dress on you. Put your boots on, let's clean them a bit. You can be ‘fuck you, I’m so badass, I can turn up in boots and he still loves me, bitches.’” He’s clicking his fingers and wobbling his head at me.

Laughing at him, I ask, “Will you give me a lift over the fields in the tractor? And will you come back for me? I’ll phone you.”

“Not going to Bowmans?”

I shake my head. “Kellen’s friends are here, so I’ll come home and we can all do something there later in the week.” I’m unconcerned. I know where Kell's loyalties lie.

He starts to laugh. “He won’t last a week, sis. He can’t keep away now. He’ll be here tomorrow. And if he isn’t, Xan will be.”

“Why do you think they did it?” I’m back to the girls. “It’s not a crime to be poor. Or not even poor, just not as much as they have.” I’m struggling to understand the malice. The resentment that would drive such horrible, mean behaviour.

“Because they don’t like the fact that you know they’re inferior beings, which they are. And they know Kellen wants to spend time with you. They want him all to themselves. He only wants you and Xander. They’re as thick as bricks. Let’s go, Kitten, you look amazing.” He kisses me on my head. He’s grown taller than me in the last few months. I don’t think they’re going to stop growing. But I know I have.

Xander age 15

Eastwood Estate Yorkshire.

One of the kitchen staff comes in and hands me a note. It’s a message from Jonno Greystone.

‘They took her shoes. Nothing better happen to her at that house tonight.’

Fuck. I heard Marcus telling them she had no clothes and them saying they’ll go help her. What a pair of bitches. But I’m not really surprised. I hate them, they’ve tried to get rid of me for years. Now they’ve moved on to Kitten.

The’ve no chance of ousting her, Marcus is in love. I’m not sure he knows himself just how much, but he’s in deep. And whilst I just ignore them, Kitten might not.

Jonno certainly won’t. If anyone comes at her, he’ll go full force. It might not be now, it might be later, he doesn’t mind waiting, they both don’t. They’ll watch and wait until the time is right for maximum carnage. I’ve seen them do it.

It's just before seven and I’ve not been able to catch Marcus on his own. The two cocky witches have been glued to his side. We’re called into dinner and I can see he’s agitated she’s not here. Taking our seats, there’s an empty chair between Marcus and me. Kitten should be sitting in it.

Isobel tries to jump into the spare place, and Marcus employs his uber polite manners. He’s so charming when he wants to be. “You’re round there, Issy. So George can take care of you. I know how you like him to get your drinks, and he loves to do it.” He winks at her, as if she’s asked him to conjure up that scenario. He encourages her over there. Walking around the table and pulling out the chair for her. Making her feel special. She’s lapping it up.

We see a tractor go past the front of the house at top speed and Marcus’s mother tuts.

“Who is driving a tractor up my front drive?” She stands, and is just about to set off to have severe words with the culprit, when we see a small figure drop out of the cab, waving and grinning at the driver.

I turn and look at Marcus. He’s transfixed by the creature coming into the house, and she clearly does not give a fuck.

I smile ear to ear. This is going to be a fun night.

We hear her throaty laugh as she comes in, greeting the housekeeper. She loves Evie. They have a quick chat and then she comes into the dining room. She looks for Marcus first, and then me, smiling wide at us both.

Everyone is staring at her. Taking in the outfit. A dove grey dress that is actually a man's shirt. Definitely one of Henry’s, Marcus’s dad. It has a white collar and cuffs, and it’s clearly been washed a lot of times as it’s so soft you can see it moving with her body. She has a wide, black belt on it, highlighting her tiny waist and frame. It also pulls the shirt to mid-thigh. Her smooth legs are tanned all year round with being outdoors so much. It’s open a few buttons at the neckline, with a beautiful necklace that hangs down her front. Her hair is up and her eye makeup makes those grey eyes pop, the grey of the shirt highlighting them even more.

Marcus can’t get any words out. He’s staring at her, totally slack jawed. I’m smiling at her like a clown in a circus. Every eye is taking her in.

Evie Fucking Greystone is in the house. She’s practically shouting it, even though she makes no sound. She makes no move to walk further into the room, which would show she’s nervous. She's not. She’s silently shouting fuck you all, shoes or not, I am here.

Marcus finally comes out of his trance enough to move towards her. I grin at that. She’s making him make her different from everyone else. Everyone else went to him, not her.

“Sorry I’m late, we had an issue. I’ll tell you later.” She says it just loudly enough that everyone can hear.

Issy and her friend look at each other, yeah you might come unstuck here ladies. Evie won’t keep her mouth shut and she doesn’t mind confrontation. In fact, at times, she thrives on it.

“Well, please sit, Everett. I’m not sure where you’re to be seated.” Rowena says impatiently.

“You’re over here, Evie,” I call out, patting the chair between Marcus and I. I see Issy pout and I roll my eyes. A fun night, but also might be a long one.

The room gasps as Marcus kisses Evie and hugs her, saying so everyone can hear, “I’m so glad you came. It wouldn’t have been the same if you hadn’t.”

Rowena looks as sour as all the other girls. “Marcus, do you have to. I’m sure all your guests are equal.” Her overbearing tone makes it clear what she thinks of that statement.

He looks around, acting oblivious. “Of course they are, but as Evie is my girlfriend, I especially wanted her to come.” Again the room draws in a collective breath, he’s going for it tonight. I smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s on a charm offence with everyone, and soon enough they’re all talking and chatting to him and Evie,

“You look beautiful, Evie,” I tell her. “Jonno told me about the shoes. No one noticed.” I smile at her.

“Oh, they noticed. They’re just waiting for the right time to mention it.” She winks at me. “You look great, Xan. That blue suits you. It brings out your eyes.” She touches my T-shirt, and I feel like I’ve been branded. “I notice you’ve been to church.” She’s telling me something else, but no one other than us would know it.

“Yes, it's been good recently, all positive vibes.”

She nods, watching my face for lies. They’re so similar, her and her youngest brother. They watch you like hawks, and can spot a lie a mile off, so I don’t bother anymore. I tell her the truth, the lies are pointless. She’s worse if she thinks you’re lying to her—she hounds you.

“I love your dress, Evie. Where’s it from?” asks one of the nicer girls.

Evie looks at her, checking for sarcasm. But to be honest, I actually think she really likes it. There’s no malice in the question. I notice a few of the girls checking her outfit out, and looking at themselves. Isobel and her sidekick titter at that, and everyone looks at them.

“What’s so funny, Issy darling?” asks Rowena. I swear at times I’m sure she is in on the mean girl behaviour.

The two girls go all coy. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” says Issy. Obviously it’s not, she’s desperate for another prompt. Good old George Newsome can be relied upon to ask the obvious.

“Oh go on, what is it?” he asks, nudging her playfully and laughing obliviously along with them.

“Well,” exclaims sidekick, “Marcus told us Evie had no dresses, so we went and got her some of our old ones.”

“Girls, that’s so nice of you to help out poorer people, so charitable. Don’t you think, Everett.”

I roll my eyes at Rowena. What a mother.

Evie does not even respond. I look to my right, and her expression is blank, a fixed smile on her face that only someone who’s spent a lot of time in her company would know is fake. I’ve never seen anyone shout ‘fuck you’ without saying a word before, but I just watched it happen.

I see Marcus scowl at his mother and the two girls, but they’re so desperate to embarrass her, they don’t notice.

“But,” goes on Issy, “we didn’t realise that one of Lord Stockton’s old shirts was in the bunch. I think it was on the throwing out pile, and we put the dresses on there and then picked them all up together. It must have gotten mixed up. So, sorry Everett, but that’s not a dress, it's a cast-off throw-away old shirt of Lord Stockton’s.” They start to laugh, and some of the others join in—including Rowena—but not everyone.

“Well I think it looks really nice,” the girl who asked the original question states. “I’m going to raid my dad’s wardrobe. Never would’ve thought of looking in there for something trendy to wear. Evie, do you think it would look nice in blue? He has loads of those blue pinstripes with white collars.”

Evie smiles genuinely in response. “They’re so nice. Kellen wears one, and it looks so cool on him.” She looks adoringly up at Marcus, touching his hand. God, she’s so theatrical.

His eyes glaze over, his brain is mush. He’s like a puddle on the floor.

“I think it would look great if it was bigger and you belted it. You might need a brown belt though, as that looks better with blue.” Evie continues to smile at the girl as she offers her thoughts. “We can have a look tomorrow. Get Kellen’s shirts out. Can’t we, Kell?”

She’s touching his hands, running her fingers up and down his arm, and he doesn’t know what day of the week it is. I’m not sure he could answer with his own name, he just nods.

She turns her full smile on the other people who’ve backed her. She’s so fucking clever, bringing in her champions, and saying ‘bring it, bitches’ to the others.

“What shoes did you pair it with?” Issy asks, clearly pushing innocence into her voice. She knows full well Evie has holey boots on.

“Shall I show you?” Evie says and stands.

It’s a total fuck you move, and I laugh. Kellen has not even noticed the shoes. He probably only got as far as her legs and is looking bewildered at the exchange.

“I feel like I need some catwalk music on,” she says, undisputedly in command of herself and this room. If they thought she would be embarrassed, they got it all wrong. She struts up and down the dining room with a little kick of her boots.

“Blundstones,” she says. “Best boots ever. And to be fair, these were Kellen’s. So I’m dressed head to toe in Russell exclusives,” she crows, laughing. “Recycling at its finest. I’m very passionate about the environment,” she says seriously. “Are you going on the marches?” And just like that, she’s turned off the conversation of her outfit and on to other matters.

I look at her when a lull comes in the conversation. “Did I tell you how amazing you are,” I say to her.

Her grin knocks me over like a warm summer breeze. “I know it, Xan. But thanks, you ain't so bad yourself.”

“Are you hitting on Marcus’s girlfriend, Xander?” accuses Issy. She’s left her seat and comes around the table to cause trouble.

“Absolutely. Guilty as charged. I’ve told him I’m waiting for him to make a mess of things so then Evie will go out with me.” I smirk at Evie. She knows I’m not actually joking.

“In your dreams,” scoffs Isobel.

“Yeah, those as well. They’re very vivid,” I tell her. Evie and I start to laugh.

She pops at Evie next. “You think you’ve got Marcus where you want him? Well, he promised my friend a motorbike ride tonight. She is sixteen, you know.” She places emphasis on the age.

“Has she got a licence? My brothers ride bikes round the fields all the time. I fall off a lot, but it’s such good fun,” Evie replies blithely. She side-eyes me to keep up the pretence.

“You’re so thick, Evie. He’s going to have sex with her. Your boyfriend is seeing someone else.”

Evie looks at her and then turns towards Kellen, who is talking to another group at the bottom of the room. Shouting at the top of her lungs, she turns the tables. “Kellen, are you taking that girl out on a motorbike tonight to have sex with her?”

The whole room stops. I smother my laugh. It’s a good job Rowena has left the party. The sidekick has gone bright red, and Issy looks like she wants the floor to open up and swallow her.

He comes straight over. “No, who told you that?”

Evie points at Issy. No quarter asked for, none given.

Isobel sputters out, “I never did. Why would I say that to your girlfriend, Kellen?”

“It’s Marcus to you Isobel.” His voice is sharp. It’s the first time I’ve heard him use that tone with her.

“What?” She demands, shocked by his voice.

“My name is Marcus. M.A.R.C.U.S.” He spells it out like she’s stupid, his voice dripping with disdain.

“She calls you Kellen”—Issy practically pokes Evie—“and he does sometimes.” She throws her hand towards me dismissively.

“He can call me what he wants when he wants. She calls me Kellen, but only her and her brothers. No one else. To the rest of you, I am Marcus,” he pronounces to the room at large, and everyone else shrugs, they don’t care. “Did she say that about the girl, Xan?” he asks me. He trusts me to tell him the truth.

“She did,” I confirm, looking her dead in the eyes.

“You liar, Xander. You would say anything to make me look bad.”

Evie laughs out, and we move to stand together. Isobel huffs and storms off.

Marcus sighs. “Sorry, Kitten.” He pulls her to him. He can’t stop touching her hands, her hair, her face. He’s clearly getting high on her scent. “I never noticed your boots. They look cool.”

She shrugs. “Not what I wanted to wear, but…” She kisses him on the lips, knocking out a few more brain cells, then turns away from us as a few of the other girls have come over to talk to her.

“She draws a crowd,” I say to Kell.

“And the rest, is she okay? They’ve tried to embarrass her tonight. I won’t forget that. A fucking borrowed dress that’s really a shirt, and a pair of boots with holes in them, and she still out shines everyone.” He looks at me. “Help me, Xander. I don’t want to make a mess of it, and you know I will. I know you love her as much as me, but help me keep her, please.”

I look at this boy/man who I love, who is my closest friend, and the girl who I would love beyond everything if only my friend did not love her as much as me. But I nod. I would give him anything if he asked me, and I think he just did.