Page 6 of Thick as Thieves
“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?
