Love Thief: The Greystone Family: Stolen Hearts

Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

The hotel is to die for. It’s my first visit to Vegas, and I feel I’ve started at the top. We have an amazing room, well a suite apparently, with what looks like Damien Hirst art all over the place, the largest being sharks suspended in formaldehyde, but I also spot a cabinet filled with pills. It has two enormous bedrooms, incredibly well appointed with king-size beds and sleek, modern furniture.

Kell, dumps our stuff in one, reserving the other for Becky and Levi, who are due to arrive in about an hour. I think Kell thinks they will be the most sedate out of this lot, and he trusts Levi with band secrets more than Kenny. “And at the end of the day,” he reminded me, “Kenny works for me.”

Everyone piles into our suite, spreading out around the seating areas and falling into the couches and swing chairs. Eventually we’ll take advantage of the games room, bar, pool, and terrace, but after that flight I think we’re all a little blitzed. The suite even has a butler. He’s sorting drinks out for everyone, thankfully. I think we can all use a little hydration.

I wander around, skirting bags and discarded carry-ons, hardly daring to touch anything. We have a reservation for dinner as the idea is to be as visible as possible, and now that the drink is wearing off I’m getting a bit anxious about being on display. I feel like a sacrificial lamb to the slaughtering public. I don’t know how these guys cope with the constant scrutiny, judgement and commentary. It’s no wonder Kellen really does give zero fucks about anyone and anything. I think he takes ‘you will never please everyone, so may as well please yourself’ a bit far, but I appreciate the sentiment behind it. It also helps if you don’t need the cash, whatever happens.

I tell the room at large I’m off to get changed, and they mostly ignore me as they’re all drinking again at the bar.

Grace follows me into my room, closes the door, and whisper-hisses, “What the fuck was that Evie? You and Marcus on the plane. You are totally into each other. I was so turned on it was ridiculous. What the hell was in that whiskey?”

“Don’t be blaming the whiskey, Grace Simpson. I saw you with Kenny and Xander,” I say laughing and pointing at her.

“Well, according to Kenny, Xan likes couples. Apparently he’s dated a few over the years, likes to get involved.” She comically rolls her eyes at the ‘involved’ bit.

“Do you, I don’t, what he, really?” I’m so shocked by the revelation. I’ve never seen that side of him. But then, why would he tell me? He’s his own man, always has been. And I know they’re all involved in the rock star lifestyle, and Xander is not a sedate and steady away guy. He is full on, as much if not more than Kellen.

I stand and look at her. ”Have you benefited from his ‘involvement?’” I ask, trying to keep the incredulity out of my voice. She nods and giggles.

“Oh my god, Grace, you are kidding me? When?”

“In London after our nightclub one night stand, a bit at the Chateau… Not for a few weeks, though, full-on. Just talk, bits and bobs, but no full sex.”

She says it so matter of fact. I’ve never seen this side of her either. I’m learning lots of new things tonight and my brain is struggling to process it all. I’m surprised by her, to be honest. Her dating history up to this point has been very unimaginative. All school administration assistants, teachers, and one barista. All boring according to her. Maybe that’s what she meant, that it was just not to this extent. Kell, Xander, and Co could never be called boring. They’re as far from boring as you can get.

“Oh right, well, good on you, Grace. Go for it, girl.”

Still a bit gobsmacked at the information, I turn to dig around in my suitcase, trying to erase the images she’s put out there and distract myself from what it means. What it confirms to me about Xander.

Am I shocked? Not totally, but a bit. He’s a bit of a Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, even if he never shows me that side. But I know it’s there. I saw him at the Chateau, the cottage. Still a bit shocked though. I mean, couples? Really?

I lift out a new black lace backless number, not short, but very stylish and super sexy. “Do you think this is Vegas enough?”

Instead of looking at the dress. Grace asks, “Do you know what you’re doing, Evie? I mean, I did wonder why he brought you? You aren’t really together, are you? Not as a real couple, anyway. Don’t forget, I sorted you out after the Chateau tents, and you were not in a good place. He put you in a terrible place. Is he worth all this?”

Gone is the playful look she had when talking about Kenny and Xan, replaced by something entirely too serious. I just stare at her. I don’t know what to say. Is he? I’ve definitely disconnected my brain of late, going with the flow as much as I can. Maybe in all that I missed what I should be doing for me, so focused on how it benefited everyone else.

I continue to stare at her, tears springing to my eyes, but she doesn’t notice and keeps rambling on. “I know you have James in common, but other than that, you’re really not his type. Way too tame for the likes of him. No compatibility at all.”

I still don’t know what to say to her, but she seems to finally see my distress and changes tact, coming over to me and taking me in her arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you. He’s certainly a beautiful man, and he looks at you like he wants to carry you off and keep you forever tied to his bed. You lucky bitch. But he was like that in France, wasn’t he? All over you before he dumped you for any number of other people who like the same things he does. But he does stare at you like…”

She tails off, pulling back and wiping at my eyes. “Oh God, I’ve ruined this trip for you, haven’t I. I’m so sorry, I should never have opened my mouth to tell you the truth about your one-sided relationship. I’d better change my name to Lauren.” She laughs a little at that, trying to lighten the mood, and I try to join in, try to smile at her.

“It’s fine Grace. It’s not like I don’t know, I suppose.”

“What’s going on?” Kellen walks into the room as Grace has my face in her hands and is wiping at my eyes. I try to turn away slightly, so he doesn’t see my deflated ego. I don’t want him to see me questioning him when I’ve agreed to all this. Agreed to be with him, give him a real chance. I don’t want to show him my doubts.

“Grace is changing her name to Lauren.” I try to laugh, but it comes out stilted and insincere. “She’s improved her interrogation techniques, that’s for sure.” I cringe on the inside. He’ll know. I sound so jaded, resigned. Get a grip, Greystone.

He looks at Grace then back to me, his face a mask of concentration, his eyes calculating my reactions. “Well she better not have. I can’t stand that woman.”

I try to smile again to put him off, but as much as he says he can’t read me, I know he absolutely can when he really wants to.

“Grace, give us a minute, please.” He’s talking to her but is staring at me. He hasn’t moved, his voice devoid of emotion.

Giving him a look of appreciation, clearly checking him out, she looks him up and down before kissing me on the cheek and walking out, closing the door behind her.

I divert my attention back to my suitcase, trying to look anywhere but at him. “I’ve got this dress, do you think it will be ok? I’m not sure and I’m getting a bit nervous.” I’m holding up the black lace dress, rambling.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” He walks over and pulls me into a hug.

“Just nerves.”

Tilting my head up, he looks into my eyes, quirking an eyebrow at me. He doesn’t believe me.

“Don’t, Kitten. Don’t do that. I can’t sort shit out if you don’t tell me.”

I draw in a big breath, steeling myself to ensure I say the right thing. To keep flying under the radar on how I feel. Keep how she’s made me doubt myself—and him—to myself. “I’ve just got a bit emotional since the wedding. I feel a bit all over the place, that’s all. And Grace just reminded me of something, but nothing more.”

“What did she remind you of?” He persists, his fingertips brushing the hair off my face. I’ve put my head down, and didn’t even realise it.

We hear a loud bang and a cheer go up, and loud voices filter through the doors. Becky and Levi have arrived. I lift my head and smile towards the door.

“Do you want to pull out, not have the wedding here?” he asks, gently moving my face back towards him. More noises come from the living area, but he makes no move to leave.

“No. I’ve said I’ll go through with it, and I’ve already said yes to you, so…” I lift onto my toes and peck at his lips, inserting more confidence than I feel into my voice when I say, “I’m fine.”

“Xan told me you were crying with Marshall. Is this the same thing?” He looks away in irritation, his jaw set, his teeth grinding in frustration. “I wish people would just butt the fuck out. I get sick of people interfering.”

“No, Marshall was being nice and I was a bit over-emotional over it, so no. Look, it’s hard sometimes, that’s all. You’re a lot, you know.” I push at him, and he takes me in his arms and looks down at me.

“You’d say, if it was not good? I’ve not known you to be so reticent. Not be upfront...”

“I’ll say, definitely.”

He bends his head and murmurs in my ear, “The dress is amazing. Just not sure how I’ll not tear it off you before we get a chance to get to that chapel.”

The door bangs open and Xander bursts through with Levi.

“C’mon lovebirds, we need to get to dinner and out to party,” Xander exclaims.

I drop my head into his chest so Xander can’t see my face. I look like I’m cuddling into Kell and he pulls me in further and kisses my head before gently pushing me towards the bathroom away from the boys.

“Fuck off then, you two, so I can get changed. You know I don’t like to show my body off. Makes you lot feel inferior,” Kell teases them. He saunters towards the shower room, pulling his T-shirt off and dropping his jeans as he goes.

Levi wolf whistles at him, luring everyone to the door to get a look.

Kellen doesn’t move fast, in fact I’m sure he slows down so they can all get a good look.

“Fucker’s been working out again,” Levi says. “And are there whip marks on your back, Marcus?”

He half-turns, teasing them all, a whisker away from a full frontal, and points to me. “See Miss Riding Crop.”

I blush bright red.

“Woah, Evie, crack that whip baby,” Gabe snickers at me. “It was you who turned him black and blue? I did wonder that day, but he never confirmed it.”

They’re all laughing now and I don’t know what to say, so I go for broke and blurt out, “Out. The lot of you. Or I’ll crack out the whips!”

“Oh be still my heart.” Xan swoons, falling dramatically to the floor.

I poke him with my toe, my expression haughty and domineering, keeping in character. “Get up Xander, you idiot.”

He crawls to the door, begging, “Please don’t whip me mistress, pretty please.” Before he leaves, he drops back to the floor, rolling around laughing with everyone laughing at him. I shoo them out, playing up to my new name, my stance alpha, and slam the door.

“Better lock that, or he’ll be back in,” Kell says, nodding his head towards the door.

I turn the latch and run to beat him in the shower. He catches me as I dash past, picks me up and carries me in. And of course we are a bit late to dinner.

The company is great fun. They’re full of chat and enjoy bantering back and forth, taking the mickey out of each other. We’re all topping up the alcohol levels to maximum, getting louder as we do. The boys get a lot of attention and their security has a task on their hands to keep people away.

To be honest, after a while I don’t notice it so much. Mick and the team do a fab job. Tommy has come with me and is working with them as a part of the team. I have to say, everytime he looks my way, it’s like a little wave of comfort from home.

Kellen is all over me like a rash, constantly touching me, and I see lots of photos being taken. I’m not sure what’s for show and what’s not, so I just run with it. When alerts start popping up on my phone with pictures of us, I text James to give him a heads up, let him know we’re out and lots of pics are being taken.

He replies almost immediately.

Sunshine

of course, u are gorg mum

Bucky

killin it mum

Bucky

lookin gud but I’m studying, james isn”t

Sunshine

I am

James sends a selfie of them both with their books.

Kellen sees it and smiles at it and me. “They’re so amazing,” he says before pulling me in for a full Hollywood kiss and doesn’t stop.

I can hear the cameras clicking away and can hardly breathe when he lets me go. I’m sure I look as dazed as I feel. That’ll make for some great tabloid fodder.

We move from dinner to a few bars and then on to a club. Everywhere we go, the drinks are flowing, but I notice Kellen is not drinking as much as the others. I really have had enough, but take a drink as well as water at the table to make it last longer.

The women are everywhere. Mick has to keep them away at times as they’re super aggressive. I go to the loos with Grace, really to give myself some headspace, give me time to try to process the whirlwind I seem to have landed in the middle of. Once in the cubicle, I sit down and text Marshall, my anchor in any storm.

Me

all ok Marshall? is Pinky behaving

Marsh

all ok and no she is not

He sends a pic from today of Pinky cornering more mares and Gerald lying prostrate on the floor.

Marsh

we might have to send her to Greystones. She stands at the fence. Think she is missing Russell. Tell him to send a selfie and I’ll show it to her

I laugh out loud at that, deciding to do just that as soon as I go back. I’m chuckling as I exit the cubicle and go towards Grace at the mirrors. I’m just about to open my mouth and tell her about Pinky, when a girl taps me on the shoulder.

“Are you with Marcus Russell?” she asks me, her tone conversational.

“Err.”

“We’re in the party, we’re VIPs,” Grace puts in before I can get a word out.

“Yes, but is she with him?” she points to me, “cos it seems like you are. Just so you know, he fucked every waitress in this hotel when he came through a couple of months ago on his tour. All the new ones, anyway. He’d already been through the others the time before that.” Her tone remains the same, it’s as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I take in the woman in front of me. She doesn’t have a waitress uniform on. But she’s carrying a hell of a lot of attitude.

“Oh, well, thanks for the information,” I say, at a bit of a loss as a lump starts to build in my throat.

“You seem a nice person,” she continues, “just didn’t want you to not know who you’re dealing with. He’s also fucked most of the hotel staff as well. That piercing gets around.”

I look at Grace, completely stunned.

Grace doesn’t even try to hide her glare, or the bitchiness in her tone, as she asks, “Which were you, hotel or waitress?”

I close my eyes. I really don’t want to know, or get into a fight over it. My stomach has twisted, and I feel a bit nauseous.

“Hotel receptionist. Our whole team went to their room, one of the best nights of our lives. We all won’t forget it in a hurry.” She grins at me. Again not in a nasty way, almost as if she thinks I’m some kindred spirit.

“So not just Marcus, then?” Grace is trying to defend the indefensible.

The girl laughs. “Think that if you want, the man has stamina.” She turns back to me. “But you look good together. He looks really good. Much better than when he came through last time. You’re obviously doing something better than all of us.”

She gestures to herself and Grace, who, if looks could kill, would see this—young, pretty twenty-something, lovely hair and nails rocking the dress she has on—woman dead as a doornail, a stone cold corpse at her feet.

“Although to be fair to myself, we were all totally plastered or high. It was a whirlwind visit, something for us to dine out on for years to come.” She smirks.

My eyes pop open in amazement at her compliments. Even if they are interspersed with information I don’t really want or need. I’m just hoping she’s going to disappear in some sort of Vegas magic show, but, no, she’s still standing there.

I touch Grace’s shoulder. “Let’s go. Thank you though, for the information, and err encouragement.” I push a fake smile on my face, and move towards the exit.

“Have you seen him more than once?” she suddenly asks me. Clearly mulling over her magnificent night.

“Of course we have, we’re with him,” Grace jabs back before I can get us both out the door.

“Wow you must be good then.” She’s totally focused on me, relegating Grace to a bit player in this drama. “He never sees anyone twice, let alone fucks them more than once. I’m impressed. You go, girl. Rope that sucker into submission. I’ll be cheering you on. So will half of Vegas. If not America. Marcus Russell, in love. What a sight that will be.” She smiles genuinely at me.

“Wait til my friend hears. She thought he was going to call her, but he never did, of course. She pined for over a month. She was crazy over him. She”ll even be pleased for you. Tame him, girl. Use him up and spit him out. But maybe leave a bit for the rest of us when you’re done. I’d happily take your cast-offs.”

I’m opening and closing my mouth like a guppy fish. I think she’s going for solidarity, and you know what, I’ll take it. I grin back at her. “I’ll do just that, and think of you when I shove him out the door. In pieces. Small ones.”

She laughs heartily, and when she looks into my face, I feel a weird connection to her. Like she’s actually seeing me, not Marcus Russell’s flavour of the night. Is this Vegas, baby? What it does to everyone? You meet new friends, who give you back-handed compliments, in toilets. Crazy. In any other circumstance, I’d have asked her to join us. She seems like fun.

Grace has clearly misinterpreted this girl”s intentions. The receptionist is definitely going for girl power, the sisterhood. Not jealous at all that I appear to be taming the beast. But Grace pushes her chest out, and seems ready to unleash full venom.

“We don’t go for anyone”s cast-offs,” she sneers. “We’re at the top of the tree. We get rockstars everyday of the week.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, clearly annoyed. “And as for your friend,” she’s making it obvious she’s not buying that story, “she obviously can’t hold him. Not like us.”

I’m not sure when ‘I’ turned into ‘us’, but I appreciate the effort—if not totally misguidedly—Grace is making with this girl. As I actually believe her about the friend.

I know the power he wields. He’d drag Astraea the greek goddess of purity into debauchery in a nanosecond. We mere mortals do not stand a chance. We’re cannon fodder on a battlefield where we don”t really understand the rules, let alone the game.

“Grace, it’s fine, she never meant that.”

I’m trying to placate an extremely annoyed Grace, whilst smiling at the receptionist, when two more women come in. And of course they’re also talking about Marcus. It crosses my mind if these two will be friendly like the receptionist, encouraging. They zero in on me, talking over each other to get my attention.

“You’re the current girl with Marcus Russell. Can you get us to their table? He was totally just eye fucking me. I flashed him, and he blew me a kiss.”

Apparently not. They ignore Grace, who’s standing right next to me, still fuming over the hotel receptionist’s suggesting we go for ‘cast-offs’. I screw my eyes shut and hope my hearing starts to fail.

But unfortunately, I hear Grace snap out, “We’re with him.”

What the hell is she doing?

”Yes,” drawls out the receptionist, “she’s with him.”

I open my eyes to find she’s pointing right at me, grinning.

“Well at least we have a chance then.” They’re looking me up and down. “She’s nothing special.”

I hear the receptionist choke out a laugh and retort, “Are you blind?”

This is only degenerating and I can’t be bothered to listen to it. I start to push Grace forward. “Grace, let’s go.”

What is wrong with her? She’s gone full warrior mode and refuses to budge, squaring up to the two new blondes.

Hotel girl is clearly enjoying winding up the two new women, and Grace, as she states with glee, “He’s fucked her more than once. He’s with her. He’s all over her. In love.”

What the fuck! I open my mouth, amazed that my business is being discussed so openly in a toilet.

Grace starts to yell at them all. Telling them how fantastic we are compared to them. I even hear her say to the duo, “Stay away from my man.”

“Is she your friend?” The receptionist has a weird look on her face, as she thumbs towards Grace.

I need to put a stop to this. Security will be called at this rate of escalation.

“Look, thank you for your support,” I say to the receptionist before turning to the other women. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business. Grace, I”m leaving.” I stride past everyone. The shouting doesn’t stop, but quietens as the door slams behind me.

I keep walking, but veer off into an alcove to get myself together before returning to the large VIP area. Grace finally exits the toilets, doesn’t see me, and saunters back to the table and our party.

I stand in the alcove, hiding. What am I doing here? “James and Bucky, James and Bucky,” I repeat to myself over and over. Keep it together, this is only going to get worse. Once I ‘get married’ tonight, I’ll be an even bigger target. My stomach is in knots. What the fuck is this? I’ve entered the twilight zone of girlfriends past. No, not girlfriends, random women zone.

I catch a bit of conversation as the two girls from the loo go past. “Can’t believe he’s with both of them. She must be a mistake. He hooks up with anyone. Let’s go and see if we can get to the table.”

It feels like I stand there for ages getting my scattered thoughts back together. Get it going on, I tell myself. They’d take him in a heartbeat, regardless of what they all say, regardless of any insults they throw my way.

I feel him before I see him. It’s like I’m a lightning rod and he’s the bolt of energy.

“Where the fuck did she go, Grace? You better not have reminded her of something else, fucking find her. Fuck, where is she?” He sounds angry with her, but I hear the edge of panic in his voice. His whole body is the picture of frustration, running his hand constantly through his hair, his head on a pivot one way and then the other.

I want to move, but I can’t. My feet seem to be glued to the thick carpets.

The receptionist comes out of the toilets and spots him. “Hi, Marcus, good to see you again.” She rolls the words out with a purr, offering him a huge seductive smile. “Looking for someone?” She’s actually twirling her hair as she pouts it out.

“Yes, my girlfriend.” He doesn’t cast a glance her way. He heard her, but hasn’t even seen her. “Beautiful woman in a black dress. Silver hair. Have you seen her?”

Mick and the team are coming from the other way, shaking their heads. Kellen looks like he might explode.

“Yeah I saw her, and you’re one lucky man. Not that you deserve it. She’s way too good for you.”

She’s gone from seductive to snarling, and I’ve never seen anyone switch so fast. The finger that was twirling the hair is now pointing aggressively, and the pout and seductive smile have been replaced by lip curling and snapping teeth. Maybe she was testing the waters before. Checking to see if he was still ‘up for anything with anyone,’ or if he really is a changed man. Well she’s certainly thrown the kitchen sink at him.

He looks like he’s about to go ballistic.

Stepping out of my hiding spot and standing up to my full five foot three inches, maybe five-five in heels, I outstretch my hand towards him. “Kellen.” I smile straight into his eyes, confidence oozing from me. “Kell, let’s go get drinks.”

I move towards him and he pulls me to him, touching my hair and face. Consternation pulsing from him.

“Don’t do that again, it worries me.” He kisses me and I melt into him, my hands gravitating into his hair to pull him even closer.

I know the girl is still standing there, watching us together. He turns me around to walk back to the table.

“Don’t forget,” she shouts to me. “Small pieces.” I hear her laugh as we walk away.

Pushing me into the booth, we’re shrouded in semidarkness, and I see Mick move to block the view.

“Where did you go? Grace was frantic when she came back and you weren’t here.” He’s stroking any bit of skin he can see. Every touch feels like a jolt of lightning.

“I just needed a bit of time to sort my head out, but it’s all fine.” I run my hand around his neck and into his hair. “I’ve made my decision. You’re mine, for better or worse I think the saying is.”

I pull on his hair and kiss him, and kiss him. Every part of my body is on him, I’m entwined around him like a vine. You wouldn’t be able to slip a slither of paper between our bodies and I don’t give a shit who sees me. Hotel receptionists, flashers. Fuck the lot of them.

With a growl, he pulls me further onto his lap, facing him, and amps up the touching to maximum voltage. It’s quite a show we put on. I don’t even stop him when his hand goes under my dress and across my knickers. He’s constantly growling into my mouth as he moves my knickers to the side and pushes his fingers into me.

I know it’s dark, but Xander is next to me and can probably see. And I don’t care. I’m all in, no turning back.

“You’re fucking amazing, Evie Greystone,” he gasps in awe into my mouth.

“I know, Marcus Russell.”

“Ten of the best for that, Kitten.”

“Give it your best shot. Bring it on, baby.” He laughs at my challenge, clearly wondering what’s happened, but goes silent when I tell him, “I brought my riding crop.”

I hear Xander hiss out a breath next to me. “Will you two pack it in, I’m gonna come.”

I grin at him. “Anyone start anything, they better get out of my way,” I say, moving off Kell’s lap, out of the shadows and into the open, facing everyone at the table, “because they’ll end up like his Ferrari—flat as a pancake.”

Grace appears to be recovering from the upset of me disappearing, and Kell shouting at her. Her tears slowing, she leans over and hugs me. Apologising to Kell.

I hug her back. “I thought you were going to have your first fight, Grace.”

“I was, those bitches.”

“We’d have flattened ‘em, but I didn’t want to get arrested just yet.” We all start to laugh.

“No getting arrested at all,” warns Kellen, “we’ve got shit to do tonight.” He smirks at me.

“Tonight definitely?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Yes, thirty minutes exactly. Shall we tell them?” I nod and he grins round at the table, his eyes alight with glee. “Well my beauties, who wants to go to a wedding?”

Xander shoots his hand up in the air. “I’ll go. Whose is it?” I roll my eyes at him.

“No fucking way!” Gabe shouts.

“You are fucking kidding us,” Levi says, his jaw on the floor.

“Oh sweet Jesus, better phone Tim,” Kenny exclaims.

“Let’s go, people. I want my bride.”

“I’m in black!” I cry. I was expecting to go and get changed first.

“Take it off then. That’ll be magic,” Xander quips. The table goes silent and everyone looks at him. “Just saying,” he shrugs.

“I don’t give a fuck what colour you’re in,” Kellen announces. ”We are doing it tonight. Let’s go. Elvis and Marilyn await.” He’s laughing now, looking completely drunk as he drags me out of the booth.

All the party are on a high, either man-made or natural, but high as kites we all head off to the little chapel. And on the 25th May, Marcus Henry James Kellen Russell, Earl of Stockton, marries me—Evie Greystone (Russell) of Cornhill Manor Blackstone Devon—again. Two of the witnesses cry, the bride smiles, and the groom beams at her as Elvis sings and Marilyn pouts.