Page 34 of Love Thief

She sneers at me, spitting out, “Am I dismissed? Your highness.” She’s full of swagger and snark, dismissing me to walk over to Tiff. “I’ll give it a try, Tiff, what do I do?” Tiff sets the rolled up notes and demonstrates. They ask me and I just shake my head.

“You won’t see Evie Fucking Greystone doing drugs. Or should I say, Evie Fucking Russell,” Grace says with an edge in her voice.

They all laugh. What the hell has happened?

When did they turn into this? I only went sightseeing. Am I going to lose everyone in this charade? For this title, the fucking family Russell? I’m seething, my emotions all over the place. I can’t think straight. Every time, they take, take, take, more than you want to give.

I’m just about hanging onto my dignity and composure by my fingernails when I walk out of the box, signalling to Tommy to follow me.

I hear Marcus’s voice ring throughout the stadium. “Hey Vegassss, how the fuck are you? If you’re not drunk or high, what the fuck you been doing all day? IT’S VEGAS BABY!”

The music starts up and I blurt out, “Can we go, Tommy?” He studies my face for a second and then nods.

“Of course.” Ushering me into a car, we leave. No one tries to stop us, they’re all too busy with the band, drinking or getting high.

The car is deathly silent. I just sit there totally numb. Eventually, Tommy’s voice breaks the dam and pulls my eyes to his. “Do you want to talk about it? I don’t normally ask, Evie, but what’s going on?” He’s looking into the mirror at me, concern on his normally passive face.

I shake my head. “I can’t, Tom, I’ll cry, I need to leave. Can we get a plane, do you think? Even if it’s not theirs. Can we get one of our own? Ring Jonno.” I’m gathering momentum now, my brain moving at warp speed.

“Marcus will want to know. He’ll come with you.”

I huff out a laugh at that. “Yeah, of course. Let’s see shall we? Did anything happen at the hotel today? Has anyone said anything to you since we came back from sightseeing?” I’m grasping at straws, still totally perplexed with the arc of events.

“No one said anything. Gabe was in the suite all day with all the girls, the rest went up at intervals. But nothing happened out of the ordinary, as far as I know.”

“God, I’m sick of this already. Give me Devon any day.”

He laughs. “Every time. Jonno’s on the phone,” he adds.

“Why can’t they just do what I ask for once?” My voice is getting higher and higher, tension coursing through me. “Put him through, tell him he’s on speaker.”

“Why?” is all Jonno says.

“Jonno, can you get me one or not?”

“Not till you tell me why.”

I hang up.

Plan B, then: “Get Lori on the phone, Tommy, and get her to charter me one.” I know I’m being irrational, but I’m sick of people. If they’re not being nasty, they’re not doing as I ask. And I ask nicely. I’ve never once said a bad word to any of them, even the women that were at the cottage when I smashed it up. I’ve been friendly, nice. Well, my kindness is certainly being taken for weakness.

“It’s late in the UK, she’ll….”

“STOP THIS FUCKING CAR, Tommy and let me out. I’ll get my own fucking plane.” I’m pulling at the car door, and tears are coming now. “Get these fucking locks off.” I’m shouting like a person who’s lost all reason. Yanking on the car handles like a deranged woman.

“Evie whoa, whoa, let me get a safe stop.” He pulls over as I’m still pulling and screaming at the door.

I jump out of the car at the first opportunity, feeling like I’m going to pass out, and bend over with my hands on my knees. Tommy comes and holds me up.

“Get me a plane. Please.” I’m pleading with him.

I retch and can feel my stomach in knots. People should not be able to get to me like this. I should not allow it. But she was my friend, my only friend! Was it all a sham, like this marriage, and she’s gone as well? She meant every word, that much I know.

My brain runs in circles and I feel I have two choices here: Breakdown, which to be honest would feel fantastic just to let go, bawl my eyes out, scream at the moon. Lay on the floor battering my arms and legs like a toddler.

Or

Get myself together. Get home. Dump Marcus, ditching all the circus that surrounds him, and pick up whatever tatters of my life are left.

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