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By CLARE LONDON (22 page)

BOOK: By CLARE LONDON
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After Peck left me, I’d taken some time to regain my breath. Then I tried out his stupid secret knock and they let me stagger back inside. The first thing I did was look for Seve, but there was no sign of him. Instead, I’d found a deliriously, drunkenly euphoric Louis and a happily distracted Jack. They did ask where I’d been, but I didn’t think my experience would add any value, so I brushed off the questions. The music throbbed through the floor, the drink flowed, and the partygoers were committed until dawn. I managed to prop myself against the table long enough to mime along to “Happy Birthday” when they all sang to Louis, but I couldn’t take much more. Assuming that Seve had left the building, I just snuck myself away.

I’d had enough. The legacy of my former life was thick like mud in my mind and more or less as filthy. Unless I did something about it, it looked like I was destined to have it with me forever. It had already followed me to my new life like an albatross around my neck, spoiled the recovery I was trying to make, and—worst of all—was now irretrievably linked to the man I loved.

I’d been sitting at the back of the number 14 night bus on its route back toward town from the marina when that particular epiphany struck me. Love… what the hell was that, appearing suddenly in my vocabulary? I rolled the word around on my mind’s tongue. Tried to ignore it. Never been there before. Not something I’d been looking for. But whether I liked it or not, I suspected there was no other description for the way I felt. More emotional than lust, more intimate than friendship. Disturbingly unfamiliar, yet mixed with an almost obsessive desire to know more. And that was all there, whether Seve gave a fuck in return or not. Had the impact with the door knocked my brain off-line as well?

If a couple of girls hadn’t lurched up in front of me, yelling and giggling they’d missed their stop, I might have missed mine too. But I limped off the bus at Sussex Square, and here I was now, at Seve’s place and determined to see him. He must have come back here. That was after protesting his innocence—after begging to meet me later. And after one of his uncle’s staff threatened me yet again, kicked the hell out of my existing injuries, and humiliated me about my former life. No, I wasn’t in the best of moods.

There was no answer on his button, but eventually someone in one of the other flats buzzed the front door open. I could only hope they hadn’t called the police at the same time. And as I stumbled into the hallway, I heard the lift arrive with a rattle and wheeze and Seve stepped out to face me. He was dressed in the sweats I’d seen him in before, with a thin denim shirt. He looked as if he’d recently showered and washed his hair and was settling down to finish the night at home. Quietly, with little fuss. And definitely not with a semihysterical lover whose clothes were looking the worse for wear and whose body was aching with several new and exciting bruises.

“Max?” He looked tense now I saw him up close. “I was in the shower. I only caught the end of your buzz but I came straight down. What are you doing here?”

“You left the club.”

He winced at my abrupt tone. “Yes. But you know that. You told me not to look for you later, and as I had finished my business, I came home.”

“I told you…?” I stared at him.

“The bartender said you had left a message. The girl who served us earlier. I was annoyed….” He paused as if anger was rising up again and he was trying to damp it down. “But I couldn’t see you anywhere. I assumed you had already left the club.”

He’d regained control. But I knew him better than that, even after such short acquaintance. I saw the jitter in his dark pupils—the slight shiver to his lip. He was mad and wary with it.

“Same girl,” I said with a sigh. “Makes me think her heart’s not really in that job.”

“What are you talking about?”

The bartender had played us both, hadn’t she? Presumably she was answering to Peck, not to Compulsion. Passing on messages to meet Peck’s needs, not ours. “Can I come up to the flat?”

Seve still looked bemused. “Do you expect to?”

I stepped up close and grabbed his wrist. It was down by his side so there was no awkward jarring, but I made sure he knew how tight my grip could be. “Yes, I do. I think I deserve a better reception than Peck gave me in the backyard tonight.”

“I never meant… wait, what do you mean? Are you hurt?” There was real panic in his eyes. But he hadn’t protested at hearing Peck’s name.

“Take me upstairs,” I insisted. “I may not be able to stand here much longer. We’ll talk there.”

“YOU knew Peck was on the payroll!” I growled the words at Seve. We sat on opposite sides of the living room, each of us on one of the deep leather-covered couches. He’d opened two bottles of water and placed them on the low table between us, but I hadn’t touched mine so far. “You knew he was still around. And everything I was talking about, everything that happened to me in London, at a club owned by your family, under their control—you knew it was real. You knew I was right. However much you try to hide behind your job and this single fucking club, it’s all in your family’s name!”

“For God’s sake, Max, calm down.”

“Don’t deny it, Seve! Credit me with some intelligence. Okay, so I’ve been really stupid so far—”

“No!” he snapped back at me. “I’ve said before, you are not stupid and I don’t believe you ever were.”

“Misguided, then. Bloody naïve.” That sounded almost as bad. “But not anymore, you hear?”

Seve steepled his hands on his chin and seemed to consider his reply very carefully before he spoke. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

About what? I wanted to shout at him. About being beaten up by thugs, about being threatened by a lump of shit who once strangled a kid for being insolent? About running drugs for the illegal rackets that your uncle runs out of the Medina clubs? About suspecting you’re involved, that you’ve been playing me along just like that bartender…?

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve; I was bloody tired of it all. “No. Not yet. I’ve never told anyone the full extent of what I know—what I did. I’ve been too fucking ashamed of my own past to own up to the present. Isn’t that pathetic? But then Peck will have reported back to you by now to tell you that. I’m sure he’s told you I’m not a critical risk—not just yet.”

Seve’s expression was cautious. “Peck hasn’t contacted me at all. I don’t expect him to.”

“But you obviously know he’s still around. Still checking on both of us.”

Seve was silent.

“Look. Whatever you do….” My voice was shaky. “Stop the lies, please. Stop trying to fool me, to hide what you’re doing, what you know. I need the truth from you, Seve. Just… stop.”

There was another too-long, too-painful silence.

“I said once I wanted to protect you, Max,” Seve said.

“And I tried to punch your lights out.”

He grimaced. “Yes. That definitely needs work.”

My laugh barked out, but I bit it off quickly. “I don’t need protecting.”

He shook his head, his eyes angry. “I know. That doesn’t stop me wanting to do it.”

All I could do was stare at him.

“Max, I’ve kept you out of things because you don’t deserve to be in. I swear that I did not lie to you—that I did not know about the problems in our other clubs or my uncle’s involvement.” He flushed. “You must understand that I found it hard to believe your allegations against the knowledge and experience of my own family, especially when you are—”

“Just a casual fuck.”

“—barely known to me!” he snapped. “Do not speak for me, Max! I intend to do that myself.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

He sat back in the couch, but he didn’t look fully relaxed. “I wanted to find out for myself. Since you first spoke to me about it, I’ve been looking into the organization. I have a certain freedom, being part of the family. I have used it to look at the books and records of the clubs. I have checked out the notes from meetings—the e-mail correspondence between my uncle’s management.”

I was back to staring at him. Was this true? He’d been some kind of spy, all this time I thought he was Mr. Playboy and living off the Medina ill-gotten gains?

He must have mistaken my astonishment, because he flushed again. “I know. If there is anything amiss, it’s not likely they will write it all down for me to find. And perhaps I have been clumsy. As far as I knew, Peck had been recalled to London. I complained bitterly to my uncle about the threats to you, and he assured me that was the end of the matter.”

“But you saw your uncle this week,” I said. “When you told me you were going to appeal to your mother.”

Seve shook his head again, but gently. “I saw them both, Max. I am not lying to you, just as you asked me not to. It would be strange if I visited London and didn’t see both of them. They have been the most influential people in my life since my father died.”

“Did you…?”

“I did not speak to my uncle about the rumors. We compared notes about the clubs’ business, and he updated me on the latest group marketing campaigns. That’s all. Before I confront him, I would like to investigate his business deals more closely, and if there is corruption, see what I can do to make things right.”

“I think Peck is working here on his own,” I said. “Whatever your uncle has done or is involved with, he should be bloody careful of what’s going on in his name. It won’t be long before Peck steps over the line and the whole damn thing spirals out of control.”

“I’m not sure he would thank you for your concern,” Seve said with a wry smile.

I frowned. “The police are still investigating the drugs racket. They’ll catch up sometime.”

“This isn’t easy for me, you’ll understand. Perhaps it would be better to wait for that, if and when it happens.” Seve took a swig of his water and dropped his head back on the couch cushion.

“Better for who, Seve?”

“For my family.” His eyes narrowed. “For you.” Yeah, he knew trouble for the Medinas would bring trouble for me too.

“What was the call you took tonight at the club?” I said.

“I’m sorry?”

“You took a phone call while we were at the bar. You had to leave straight away.” He’d looked… odd. “Was it from Peck?”

“No, of course not. Like I said, I have not had any contact with him. Max, I told you—”

“I know,” I interrupted. It took a while tonight for things to sink into my battered brain. “You’re not lying. I’m sorry. Give me time to cool down, okay?”

For a moment, we were both silent. Seve put his bottle of water back on the table and leaned forward on his seat, his hands clasped in his lap, his gaze on me. “Max, there’s more I must tell you. I did see my uncle, we did talk about the club. But he also told me that they want me to take a more active role in the Medina Group. They want to promote me to the board of directors—involve me in the overall management of the clubs.”

“A more active role?” My breath caught in my chest. My old life and my new were overlapping even more quickly than I could have imagined.

“I haven’t been able to tell you,” he continued. “I’m not even sure how I feel about it myself. Not yet. I’ve needed time to think this through, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“If I hadn’t met you, there would have been no question. I am loyal to my family, and I am also ambitious. The chance of joining the Group management is exciting to me.”

“But now you know what else it entails?”

He glanced sharply at me. “You have more proof?”

My gaze fell. “Not yet.”

“Even so, it’s enough to make me cautious. I take your allegations seriously, you see.” He nodded slowly. “You’re still suspicious of me?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Tonight’s call at the club was from one of my uncle’s assistants. To ask for my response.”

“Which was?”

He worried at his lower lip, the thick flesh easing out between his white teeth. “I have asked for more time to decide. But I will say no if it’s proved we have been involved in anything illegal.”

“No temptation to take your cut?”

His gaze met mine, dark and determined. “Of course not.”

Had I really misjudged him so much? I’d been stupid all round, it seemed. “Do you think he knows why you’re delaying your answer?”

Seve shrugged. “I don’t know. My uncle says there’s a fine line between profit and profiteering. I thought it was a family joke.” He gave a short, harsh laugh. “But maybe that has been his strategy for all these years. Mama has always insisted on the importance of family, but she’s never really been close to him. He disapproved of her marriage to my father, for one thing. And he didn’t think she should have inherited so many shares in the Group in her own name. Things have been uneasy for many years.” He sighed. “I have not paid enough or the right attention.”

“You and me both,” I said.

Seve settled back in the couch again, his gaze still on me. “Peck had spoken to my uncle too,” he said. “About us.”

The casual us sent a chill down my back. I didn’t know if it was delight or horror. “What did he say?”

“He told my uncle I was seeing someone regularly. Too regularly. That was bound to irritate Uncle Alvaro, who not only insists my liking for men is a mere phase of sexual experimentation before I marry but who believes a man should live and breathe his work alone.”

I recalled Peck cornering me in the backyard, warning me off. I wondered if he’d told Uncle Alvaro about our London connection too. Maybe not, if Peck was trying to boost his reputation with his boss. He wouldn’t like to admit he let a courier out of his grasp—and one who was now intimate with a member of the Medina family. Messy.

Seve’s eyes flashed. “I told him it was no business of his who I dated.”

There was that us implication again. The chill was feeling increasingly like delight. “And your mother? What did she say?”

He stared at me, his eyes dark and deep. “She understood.”

I watched him sitting there, apparently calm. He’d flung his arm over the back of the couch, and his denim shirt was open to the top of his breast, showing the hairs on his chest. I remembered every line of muscle and bone of that chest. I’d kissed it—I’d caressed it. It had crushed itself against me as he fucked me, took me, my legs clasped around him, our tongues thrusting into each other’s mouths. I felt nauseous again, and the devil in me wanted to shatter his composure. “That’s not enough, though, is it? Why did you let us go on?” His gaze snapped up to me, startled. “There was only ever going to be trouble, Seve. Better to have dumped me quickly and kept your relationship with the club purely business. Better to have diverted all these fucking awkward questions and my sordid past, and found another fuckbuddy. Why, Seve?”

BOOK: By CLARE LONDON
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