Page 28 of The Devil’s Detail (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #2)

Jackson

“Where the fuck has Carter gone?” My tracking app on my phone is beeping like a manic heart rate monitor.

I’ve hardly had any sleep, and had left Carter slightly catatonic, but at least conscious.

He’d stress baked himself into oblivion.

We’ll be eating all the Victoria sponges and cupcakes for years.

“Fuck knows,” Ash tells me over FaceTime. “He got a call and set off like a bat out of hell. I couldn’t get to him quick enough.” He sounds frantic.

I look at the cameras I set up in his home. “He’s gone in his own Mercedes. Fucking driving it himself. Follow him, Ash. You’ve got the trackers switched on, haven’t you?” He nods as he’s running for the car. “I’ll track him as well. Fucking runaway celebrities.” I grimace.

“I’ll check his phone log. I’ll bet it was John on the phone. Carter looked angry. His phone has been pinging all morning, so he switched it off. John must have been messaging him. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Jackson.” He sounds grave.

“I’m on my way. Let's get there asap.”

I steam towards the Daisy Cafe, the trackers I planted in every car worth every penny, mulling over everything I’ve found out about John and his studio. Skidding into the parking lot, my eyes are immediately drawn to a body lying prostrate at the side of the building.

My heart rate slows down. The scene around me is running at a snail's pace. Every nuance of colour and sound hits me in slow motion. Ash, laid out. I’ve been here before, witnessed this scene before. My friend, my colleague, unconscious.

And then everything speeds up as I reach him. A groan, he’s alive. He’s trying to move, squinting his eyes as he tries to move his head. Aiding him as much as I can to sit up, I check the surroundings. Nobody is around, but there are tire marks in the dirt, as if someone has sped off quickly.

“Carter, he—” he groans again. I prop him up and pop my head to look at the Daisy Cafe windows.

Derek is behind the counter. I bang like hell on the window, hoping to get him to come out and call for help, then go back and tend to my friend.

“John, and Gary.” The two names I never want to hear ever again. “Took Carter.”

I stare down into Ash’s eyes. Has he been knocked senseless? What the hell does he mean ‘took Carter’.

“Took him, like kidnapped him?”

He nods, but winces. The paramedics who have arrived try to move me out of the way. They’re insisting he has to go to hospital. His head is a mess, and it won’t stop bleeding. It needs stitches.

“Go get him, Jackson. And take security back up. They’ve got help.”

As the medics load Ash into the ambulance, I call into the office to get someone to go to the hospital and stay with him. As they pull away, Baz, my driver, arrives at top speed and we waste no time in making a plan.

“How will you find him? Are you tracking his phone?” Baz is all business.

“It looks like they’ve dumped the phone,” I offer grimly. “They’d know I’d track him.” I hold up my phone, showing him the tracking data. The phone says it’s still here.

I switch apps and Baz grins at me. “You always were a sneaky fucker. What’s it in, his watch?”

I grin. “His mother gave him it. He hardly takes it off. He rather cut his hand off than let that go.” I smirk. I was in two minds at the time, but decided to risk it. I’m glad I did now. “Let’s go, I have the coordinates.”

We set out driving. Baz is like a block of ice in the passenger seat at the side of me, my phone in his hand. He looks over at me quizzically.

“What’s up?” I say as we navigate other cars at higher speeds.

“They’re at the park. They’ve stopped.”

I pull a what the fuck face and glance at the app. “What the hell do you think they’re doing there?”

Baz is looking at the little dot. “Still not moving.”

Then breaking news via the radio catches both of our attention. I look at Baz, he looks at me, and we start to laugh. This has got to be the most ridiculous situation I have ever had to deal with.

I dial my youngest brother. “Do you fancy having a part in an afternoon soap opera?” I ask him conversationally.

“No, why? Are you auditioning? I can see you as security guy number one.” He’s taking the piss now. “Carter’s not recruiting you, has he?” He can hardly contain his laughter.

“Not intentionally, but he’s been picnic-napped. They’re making him sit on a tartan rug against his will.”

He’s guffawing with laughter. “Fucking hell. He gets worse. What you gonna do? Rip his arse off the rug, arrest him for bad taste in picnic blankets.” I can hear the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I need to get him away from Gary and John. The park is swarming with paps and press. I’ll bet there’s a newly refurbished contract ready for Carter to sign.

I found out today that John and Gary were in on this latest scheme together.

Intended to use the studio space for a workout for your body and your wardrobe operation.

All on Carter’s name and dime.” Contempt for them both drips from my lips.

My blood is boiling, but I need to keep it calm.

“Jesus. They’re delusional.”

“Yep, but also desperate. They’ve sold the press a story that Carter has been dating them both, telling each they were his one and only true love, and they’ve agreed to this meeting to sort out the love triangle,” I state with disgust. “Fucking pair of leeches.”

“They knocked Ash out,” Baz interjects.

I hear Jonno gasp, and then his voice is different. Cold and ruthless. “You get Carter out and I’ll deal with those fuckers. Ahh yes, here is their little website. Come to papa.”

I grin at Baz. Jonno is crazy at times, but very useful.

“Stay on the line. I need the authenticity when I enact my little charade to get Carter out. You’re going to be in the show whether you like it or not.” I smirk. “Are you ready, brother? And… action.”

I screech to a full stop, scattering Carter’s fired security team, who run for cover like roaches in daylight.

Swaggering coolly over towards Carter, who is sat flanked by Gary and John, I take in the paps not-so-hiding in the bushes.

The celebrity news crew vans are parked slightly farther away.

What an epic farce. Every eye is trained on the trio—or love triangle —no doubt waiting for the punches to be thrown.

“You got eyes on him, brother?” Jonno asks.

“Yep. Target acquired right on a fancy blanket, product placement at its finest.” I raise my voice.

“Sure thing. He’s here. I’ll bring him straight away.

Yes, yes I’m aware it’s urgent.” I touch my earpiece for effect and see one of the cameras swing in my direction.

Jesus, I really am going to be prime-time news. I’ll never live it down.

“Carter, sorry to barge in, it’s for you. You really need to take this. It’s Freddie, your agent, with news.” I say this loudly so everyone will pick it up on the microphones.

Carter plays along, his hand coming up imperiously, as if he’s been expecting me. Boy, can he act. He stands up, and half tries to walk away, as if the conversation needs to remain private.

“Freddie,” he shouts, grinning down at his would-be kidnappers. “Oh my God! No way,” he gasps out super excitedly. Even I’m intrigued, and I know it’s Jonno on the phone. “I can’t believe it. Is it for real? Well of course I want it! I'll be right there.”

He starts to walk towards the car with urgency, Gary and John shouting their protest and waving at him to come back and tell them. But then he veers off towards the now obvious bank of photographers.

“I’m on my way. Can I tell anyone? There are loads of friends here.

Can I share?” He deliberately looks into the sea of photographers and some microphones, grinning, like he’s got the biggest secret to share.

I see the phone screen go black, but he carries on talking. “Okay, well I’ll just let them know.”

He theatrically presses the end button then starts acting his arse off.

Spilling a load of crap to the press about a hush-hush film project.

Some of the paps he seems to know well. Greeting them by name, homing in on them, he makes them feel special.

It’s his gift, and he’s fantastic at it.

“You’ll be my first call," he tells about ten people.

They all believe him. They love it as much as he loves to dish it.

He is the main man, everyone's focal point. Gary and John are completely forgotten. Couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.

Baz has joined us, along with a few other men from my company.

I nod and they discreetly surround the picnic blanket, hemming in the picnappers.

They actually try to move towards Carter, trying to get back in on the action he’s created.

They want the limelight he generates, they want to bask in his glow.

Well, not on my watch—they are in the cold and staying there.

“Carter, sorry, but we need to go.” I touch my ear piece again as if someone is talking to me. He nods and smiles at the photographers, turning away and leaning into me ever so slightly.

As I tow him towards the car, he looks like he’s ready to collapse. But ever the professional, he’s smiling and waving, even as he climbs into the back seat.

The minute he’s out of sight, his entire demeanor changes. He seems sunken. Smaller, somehow. “Is Ash okay?” His voice is fraught with worry, and what sounds a lot like exhaustion. “They, he—” His eyes are hurting, he can hardly bring himself to ask, he’s so worried.

I climb in next to him, and the moment I close the door, his whole body sags with relief as he drops his head in his hands. “Carter, sit up. They're trying to get shots through the windows,” I say calmly and firmly.

He jerks upright instantly, finally slumping into me when we’re on the highway. He starts to shake in anger.

“Ash will be fine. They’ve taken him to hospital. But we need to go home. Don’t go to the hospital, it might cause more headlines.”

He nods, resignedly. “I can’t believe it, what they did to Ash and then me.” His eyes bore into mine, trying to explain.

I place my hand on his. “It wasn’t your fault, okay. It was all them. They’re delusional and deranged. Let’s get home and we can debrief.”

I nod at him, trying to push positive energy his way.

He looks defeated and dejected. Normally, me touching his hand would cause a huge flirting session, but not today.

Right now, he’s not even capable of that.

And I feel so sorry for him. He’s been taken for a ride again.

People he trusted have once again let him down.

How you keep getting up from that sort of betrayal, and continue being positive, I have no idea.