Page 97 of Thick as Thieves
He’s studying me closely. “No, have you?” And I know from the tone of his voice and the look in his dark brown eyes he’s not asking about his trip.
I sigh. It’s so hard to explain.
I shake my head. I can’t get any words out, and I feel tears well into my eyes as I hang my head.
“What is it, Kitten? What’s stopping you? You love them, they love you. It’s been over two months. Is it irreconcilable? I’m not suggesting you forget and move on, but can’t you forgive them? I know they want to be with you. Kell doesn’t shut up about it. Xander, well, he can hardly speak.”
I look at him helplessly. “Kell wants to talk when he gets back.” I don't say anything else. I think he’s going to start on me again, tell me to get back with them, but he doesn’t. He just stands and smiles at me. “What is it?” I ask him, and I can’t help but smile in return. He’s infectious.
“I remember the first time I met you. I’d been dumped on poor Marcus. My mother and his had headed to a ‘lunch’.” He rolls his eyes at that, pulling me down to sit on the bed next to him. “Wine was always consumed. I knew my mother would be asleep when she got in. Marcus had to take me for the day. I felt as if I was going to meet the queen.”
He touches my hair, brushing it from my face. “I had a list of dos and don’ts. With Xan chipping in.” His grin gets wider. “We’d been given ice pops to take. Xan and Marcus had already eaten theirs. I dropped half of mine, and was bawling my eyes out.” He laughs when he thinks about it. “And then you appeared out of nowhere. With an ice cream. Took one look at my bawling face, and Marcus trying to placate me with the juice from the now empty packet, and handed yours over.” He huffs out a laugh. A loving smile on his handsome face. “I loved you for that. And I knew Marcus and Xan already did. Marcus told me, and I overheard the two of them nearly on a daily basis, talking about you.”
He picks up my hand and takes it in his. “I know you don’t like to live with regrets, and I want you to be happy. They make you happy, Kitten. You’ve been as thick as thieves since you were nine years old. Fair enough, you’ve loved, lost, and loved again. But I think it’s time. Time to start living again, to the max, full steam ahead. Full throttle, like you’ve always done with them. No holding back. They love you. And if you’re honest with yourself, you love them.”
His grin gets cheeky. “I know they do crazy stuff. Don’t think they’ve ever really grown up. Not sure they ever will. But their hearts are in the right place. Especially when it comes to you, especially you. It’s time to all come home.”
I start to sob, and Bug holds me hard to him. I hear him speaking quietly to Orla and Tommy, who have clearly heard my racket. He kisses my cheeks, saying, “I’ll let you get your things together. Tommy and I are going to speak to Marshall. There’s lots of nasty stuff flying around at the minute, and Rowena and Co have triggered a shit storm. I’ll let you ring Xander.”
What the hell am I going to say? I feel fragile inside. I need comfort. I want him to be at home when I get there. I want him to stay. I need him to stay.
I’ve listened to their stuttered attempts at explanations. Although I’ve cut them off before they get up a head of steam. I’ve listened to my brothers rant on about security. I’m not blind, I’ve seen a few of the articles and words written about me about my kids. Jonno has probably been editing a lot. Protecting me, shielding me from the worst of it. I’ve run all the conversations from Scotland through my mind. Considered all the events that happened. Grace, Lauren, Becky, Rowena, the girl who tried to push me into the road when I was with Cary.
Did I overreact? Focus on the negative, their betrayal of my wishes. Did I ignore some of the markers and let my emotions blind me? Yes, I did. But it was the fact that they didn’t deem fit to tell me. Wanted me in the dark. Didn’t think I would be upset about that. Didn’t think I would be rational enough to debate the pros and cons. The upshot was they wanted to do it. And I know from all the conversations and recriminations with Jonno, he egged them on.
Now this with Rowena. She’s normally got her head in the clouds, only focuses on herself and her garden parties at this time of year. Gossip must have got to seismic proportions if she’s been in the middle of a campaign to find the truth.
I mull over Bug's words. Xander’s constant texts. Kell’s rambling voice messages. My brothers’ defiant arguments. I won’t forget, and I will ensure that neither do they. But if I want them in my life, I’m going to have to forgive them. Try and move past it. Make a decision and stick to it. Full throttle or not at all.
48
Xander
Devon
Devon is like a desert,only Marshall left, so I’m drunk most nights. I think he’s making the most of Evie being away. I notice she tries to restrict his whiskey intake when she’s here. The more time I spend with him the more I see Evie in him. I don’t know how I missed it before. James is also like him in his build. Leaner than Marcus, more graceful in movement.
He offers for me to stay in our old room in the house whilst everyone is away and I’m working on the sculpture in the coach house near the main house. “If that’s okay with you, that would be great,” I tell him, but it’s sweet torture. Their smell pervades the room, her perfume is on clothes and in the air. I lay awake night after night, trying to sleep, thinking finally I can if they’re with me. But sleep does not come, and each morning I get up alone.
On day four, I’m taking a lunch break when I hear Marshall shout out and he carries on shouting. I rush into the kitchen to find him banging his fists and barking orders at someone—turns out it’s Tommy. His blue-grey eyes flash with anger, his face red with annoyance. His whole demeanour changed.
“She’s coming home,” he tells me. “That idiot Rowena has attacked her and the children. Trying to do some test or other. It downright knocked her for six. Even though Tommy said she had them all cowering on the floor.” His fist smacks onto the worktop again. “If they’ve hurt her or those boys, Rowena Russell and her family better get ready. I’ll evict them all from Ireland, and hound them into oblivion. Jonno Greystone has nothing on me.”
I’ve never seen Marshall in full on protective mode, but it is a sight to behold. The calls keep coming in, a running commentary on the decisions being made. My phone rings and I look at the screen—Kitten.
“Hi, are you all alright? Marshall is sharpening all his tools, gunning for Rowena,” I tell her. “Are you okay? Are the boys alright?” My worry is hitting epic proportions. I daren’t ring Marcus, he’ll jet home.
She laughs, but I can hear the wobble in her voice. “It’s a good job Marshall hates London, and he wasn’t here. He would’ve flayed them all. But we’re fine now, just a bit shaken by it. Everything.” She pauses. “I’m coming back. I've got done what I need to. Marshall told me you’re still working and staying at Cornhill.” She pauses again, and I think she’s going to ask me to leave. “Stay.” Her voice has changed, it’s soft, gentle. “Don't leave, we’ll be late getting in.”
My heart reacts to her tone. My body starts to tingle. But I try to keep a lid on my feelings. It’s too soon to get my hopes up.
“It’s fine, just come home safe,” I answer back in a similar tone, letting her know I’m waiting for her. “I’ll be here and see you whatever time you get back.”
I’d wait a fucking lifetime.
They getin around ten thirty at night. By the time the kids are settled, it’s getting on for midnight, and she looks tired and drained. Retelling the story—with Bug, Tommy, and the Purcell boys chipping in at their appropriate parts—we’re falling around with laughter as Oisin and Colm do an impression of the two doctors. With Eamonn demonstrating Kitten’s throwing arm. She’s still running on adrenaline from the debacle. I also bet she’s been running around at one hundred miles per hour packing it all in, being all things to all her staff and friends.
The kitchen’s cleared and we’re finally on our own, Bug seeming to be the last to make a strategic retreat. We’re sitting on the settees in the kitchen living area, drinking coffee with a dollop of whiskey in it. Marshall’s parting gift before bed. The lamps cast a warm glow over her. God, she’s beautiful. She looks like home.
