Page 36 of Thick as Thieves
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.
