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The rain’s stopped outside but it’s still a cold, dark, mid-December London night. Where the hell are they?
James turned eighteen two weeks ago, and since then, they’ve been out clubbing nearly every night. And if not clubbing, then out at events and music venues. The lads all stay at our houses, tucked safely away in our own little square, and in fact they have a basement apartment in the house next door. I want them near, but I do not want to see what they get up to. Or who comes home with them, male, female or otherwise. It works well, and I feel involved without being overbearing.
I know it in my bones, however, that they’re not yet back.
Heading downstairs to check the CCTV at the front gates of our houses, I ask the doorman just to confirm, getting the same, “No,” from him I expected.
I turn to go back upstairs, but instead of going to my own room, I head to Jonno’s. I push open the door asking, “You up?”
Thankfully he’s alone. “No, I’m fast asleep, go away.”
Smiling at him in the darkness, I hop into bed beside him, pulling the quilt over us both and turning to face him.
“No, Evie,” he says, not moving.
I don’t say anything, but carry on looking at him. I move my face nearer to his, whisper, “Tell me,” and kiss the end of his nose.
“No, Evie,” he repeats.
“I know you know,” I state quietly. “Did you put anything on them?”
He hits me with his lazy smile. “You know me too well, baby sis.”
“I’m older, idiot. Did you?”
“Yes,” he sighs and rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to pretend I’m not here.
“Tracker or listening?” I query.
He side-eyes me, shaking his head. “Tracker on Kellen, standard MO,” he huffs.
“Is James with him?” I ask, holding my breath.
“They’re all with him,” he says, turning to look at me. “He’s at the Elizabeth Hotel in Soho, third floor suites.”
It’s my turn to roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. Jonno is looking at me now. Neither of us says a word. My brain is ticking overtime. Why would James call him? I know James is a man of action. I huff a breath at that—so like Kellen at that age. But what if something kicks off and James gets roped into it? Kellen is a magnet for poor decisions, if his media persona is to be believed. Jesus, why did he not just come home? We can protect him, take it slowly. My stomach is fluttering as if a swarm of bees has taken up residence. Please god, James, think baby, think.
I know he’s an adult, but this is huge. Will Kellen play nice, or will he reject him, like he did before. I feel totally sick with worry. Regardless of the fact that he hinted he didn’t know, I’m not sure if that actually could be true. What parents would never tell their son he had a child? Please god, let him be okay.
What will Kell tell him? How much of the boy I loved is left? I can only hope it will be enough to love and not hurt my son. I’m hanging on by a thread, the wetness in my eyes building, and tears slip out of the sides and run down my cheeks into my ears.
Jonno moves forward and kisses the side of my face, pulling my chin towards him. “We’ll sort this.” He looks me in the eyes and I crumple.
“Hey, hey hey,” he says, quietly pulling me onto his chest, cuddling me as I sob.
Eventually I ask quietly, “Do you think we’ll lose him? They’re really good at taking what they want.” More tears run down my face and now onto Jonno.
“No, I don’t think we will. They’ll probably think they can take him though, arrogant fucks. James is a mixture of you both,” he says, thinking out loud. “Wild and free like you, and stubborn as fuck like him.” He kisses my head. “We might lose him for a bit though, so we have to be ready and willing to let him go and wait for him to come back. James is not stupid, he’s been around us long enough to be able to see through people and their façade of bullshit. He is my protégé after all.”
He snorts as I dig my elbow into his stomach. “They will underestimate him,” he goes on, “’cos they are who they are. But we aren’t who they think we are.”
“I’m not sure that makes sense.” I grin, and it slightly settles the swarming bees. I feel secure in who we are, but he is such an unknown.
“It makes perfect sense when you think about them,” he says as he picks my head up and looks at me.
“I love you, Jonno. I know I don’t tell you all enough.” I smile at him.
“Awww, you do, baby sis. But of course I am your favourite, so I hear it a lot.” I dig into him again. “Owwwph! Stop with the violence, people are trying to sleep,” he laughs out.
