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This boy is seriously dramatic. “Getting out, Bucky? Or not?” I cut him off before he starts on any more ways to die.
He shocks me when he says, “Naw drop them off.”
We pull up at the taxis and Mick stops the van. He gets out to help the girls out and ushers them over to a waiting taxi. They are seriously pissed off, shouting abuse at the lads and trying to take photos of me as they go.
Mick totally ignores them and gives the driver a handful of notes, telling him to take them home. “I have your number,” he warns him. “Straight home, no issues.”
Mick jumps back into the driver’s seat, and heads back to the hotel, pulling into the underground car park in record time and calling the staff lift with the code as we all pile out.
“Try not to get us thrown out,” I say to the group at large, but look pointedly at Bucky. They all just grin at me, like I’m a moron. Mick looks at me and is smirking like an idiot. I can see he’s lapping this up, me being the responsible one. This cannot be happening.
They pour into the room and are into everything. I point to the bar and hand over the drinks and food menu, telling them to order what they want. Mick takes charge of calling room service, and I retrieve Bucky from my bedroom.
“I was looking for the women,” he argues as he struggles out of my grip.
“Keep out of there,” I growl at him, and throw him onto a settee.
James just smirks at him and pats his head. “Stay, boy,” he says. Bucky starts panting like a dog, tongue out and hands as pretend paws.
“Wow, Bucky, that’s the same look you had tonight when that girl came over to hook up,” one of the guitarists says. They all fall about laughing.
“No,” the other one says, “it was her mate that looked like that when she got a look at James. Sit up and beg, baby,” he says laughing.
They all get comfy on the settees, dissecting the evening’s antics. I notice James has been looking at his phone a few times and laughing quietly to himself. They hit the bar hard and the food arrives and gets devoured in record time.
“At least,” says one of the guitarists, “that room service guy was happier than Jude normally is when he’s making us food at five in the morning. Or Momma G with her toasties at five-thirty. They are for the brave only,” he shivers.
“Are you all staying?” I ask, looking at them all. “Do you need to let anyone know where you are?”
“I told you,” James reminds me, “they know where we are. Jonno already texted asking why we’re at the Elizabeth hotel. With you.” He gives me a knowing look.
I point out the bedrooms to the other boys, as well as the room down the hall. They all kiss James on the head in a clearly well-used move to wind him up as they go off. He grins up at them all from the settee, calling each one a bastard and bantering as they go.
When it’s just the two of us, I stand and look at James. I have a fucking son. A living, breathing reflection of something I thought I’d never have. I’ve been watching him all night and am fascinated by how much he looks like me—eyes, cheeks, lips, chin. Yet when he smiles, he is totally her. It’s amazing to see He’s uber confident, but still so young. Christ what am I going to bring to this party? Chaos probably, but I need to protect him and her. Wow what a boy he is. I can hardly take it in.
He catches me staring at him and asks, “What do you want to know?”
“Everything and then some,” I respond, smiling. “What do you want to know?” I ask him.
He pauses and turns his face to fully look me dead in the eye. “Why? Why didn’t you come? Why were we not enough? Why did they throw my mum down the steps outside your house? Why was Jonno constantly removing all information about us from the internet? What did you do?”
I stare at him, speechless. Pain bursts across my chest as my heart starts to thump at a ridiculous rate. I feel like it’s being ripped out as I look into his eyes. I garner my thoughts and take a breath. “Sit down, James, I’ll tell you everything. I don’t know if it will get us to a why, but I’ll tell you the truth as I know it. You can decide where to take it.”
I need him to understand how it was, how much love there was between his mother and I. The depth of feelings I had for her even though we were so young. I would never have left her to face things alone. Not if I’d known about him. Sure, she had the Greystone family—even then she viewed them as her brothers—but she was carrying my son, not theirs.
We were all the same age as he is now. Will he appreciate how fiercely I loved her? Has he ever loved to that extent? From how he looks like he lives, I would say not. I’m concerned I can’t convey how I lived for her even then, that he just won’t be able to understand. I take a deep breath and look him in the eye. I can’t fuck this up.
Chapter
Seven
Evie
They’re not home. I feel it.
I finally went to bed around 3 a.m., after discussing the evening’s events with my brothers. Jackson eventually went off to see his long-time girlfriend, Amelie. God, that woman must be a saint to put up with all our antics and shit. Jude and Jonno stayed home, I think to make sure I was okay. We talked up hill and down dale about James and Kellen—what it might mean, how things may go—but in the end I feel we’re no further forward. We’re basically in a holding pattern whilst it plays out and I speak to James about what he wants to do.
I look at the clock. 4:45 a.m.
