Page 33 of Never Tell Secrets
I crossed to the fireplace and crouched. The coal and wood were set up, I just needed…ah. I found a chrome fire lighter in a stand on the mantle. After a moment, the fire caught and I stood, staying close as it began to bring some life to the room. I turned to see Alfie eyeing me intently. "You know, a little colour wouldn't kill you. A rug, a painting, a cute novelty mug."
He waved at the dead room. "Have at it. Throw paint at the walls if you want. I don’t care." I supposed to him that was a meaningful gesture, to me, it was an annoyance that once again Alfie was making me responsible for‘making everything better.’Now wasn’t the time to argue about it though. “Would you like anything to drink? Tea? I can have some food brought if you’re hungry.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to eat right now.
A silence hung between us filled with the reason I was here in the first place.
“Small talk over?” He stood, watching me as I sank into one of the arm chairs, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his grey suit trousers.
"It’s time, Alfie.” I was ready. Whatever was about to come out of his mouth, I was ready.
With a resigned nod he dimmed the light and came to sit in the other vacant chair. In the darkened room, fire light glinted off his pale features, shadows resting in the hollows of his high cheekbones. He gazed at me, soaking me in, his steel eyes alight in the fires glow.
"Whatever it is, Alfie, you can trust me."
"I know.” He chuckled to himself. “You know, ever since I gave you those journals, I’ve had my publicist on high alert, scouring every contact he’s got just waiting for you to start selling stories to the newspapers. You could be a millionaire by now, did you know that?”
I crinkled my nose in disgust. “What’s the point in being rich if you're morally bankrupt?”
“What indeed.” He gazed pensively into the fire. “I want you to know that whatever you want to do after I tell you, I’ll understand. If you want to scream at me, I’ll let you. If you want to run away and never speak to me again, I won’t stop you. The only thing I won’t let you do is call the police. These secrets would destroy more lives than just mine if they get out.”
“I understand.” I held my breath. This was it. Years of waiting and wondering had all led me here to this moment.
“I’ve wondered so many times how I would tell you this, where I would start…” He trailed off and I watched him struggle to find the right words. “How much did you read about my brother?”
“Enough to know that he had a screw loose.”
Alfie didn’t laugh.
“For your sake, don’t ever let my mother hear you say that.” That would be easy, as I had no plans on ever meeting Carolyn Tell. I swallowed my nerves, mentally preparing for what was to come. “Did you read enough to know that he liked to attend the Never Tell parties?”
I shook my head. I’d stopped reading when Alfie was around twenty.
“He didn’t start attending until the last few years of his life. Up until then, he’d shown no interest in my club, except to rub it in my face how ashamed our parents were of my life choices. I never bothered pointing out to him that I’d built a mult-milliondollar company off my own back, whereas he lived entirely in our father’s pocket.” He took a breath and continued on.
“In the first few years, the club's existence was largely only known within our own circles. By the time I was in my twenties, the club had gained global notoriety and Charles wanted in. Not in running the club, he didn’t care about owning shares, but the wildness of our events was known everywhere andthathe definitely wanted a part of.”
Despite the fire, I shivered at the idea of that sociopath being let loose at one of those parties.
“You’re right to shiver. My brother was a barely leashed animal. He could present the most charming disposition but that exterior, that mask, it could slip in an instant and underneath was cold violence. I saw him snap more than once growing up. His eyes would go dead and black, like a shark's eyes, and I knew someone was going to get hurt.” He paused. I watched his trembling hands clench and release.
“He scared you.”
“He terrified me.” He forced a sickened laugh out of his throat. “Imagine growing up with a psychopath in your house. Of course, my parents ignored it. They looked the other way and I was the weak one for not being able to do the same. My empathy embarrassed them.” He paused again, taking a shuddering breath as he fought to calm himself. I sat in the silence, giving him time.
“When I was twenty one, that’s when he started coming to club events. He loved the club but that love wasn’t reciprocated. Not by me or my Tellers, anyway. The club was wild and debauched but we had rules in place that would protect everyone. To even be considered for membership you had to have a certain amount in your bank account.”
“No poor people allowed?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Right. It’s not as snobbish as it sounds. Money gives you power, Lola. All of our members were wealthy so they were all on an equal footing. If anyone stepped out of line, if anyone got hurt, they had the resources to deal with it. A person without those resources would have been vulnerable and a target for the more nefarious sorts.”
I sat with that for a moment. Reluctantly, I had to admit it made some sense. How much power had Alfie had over me? He could afford private security, who would implant trackers on my phone and vehicle, who would steal my birth control and with my meagre resources, what could I do in return? In a club like that, with drugs and alcohol and rampant sex, a wealthy person could wield all sorts of power over a poorer one.
“I know you don’t like it, but I didn’t want to create an environment where a vulnerable person might feel obligated to perform certain acts in the hopes of gaining financial prizes from the wealthy members. That's a grey area of consent that I don’t like to dabble in.”
“Stealing my birth control wasn’t a grey area of consent?” I snapped back before I could stop myself.Shit.Now was not the time for that. I swallowed as if I could swallow the words back down, but Alfie didn’t even flinch. He looked up, holding my gaze.
“No. There was no grey area. What I did was an out-and-out violation of your consent.” We stared at each other, tension humming between us before I nodded at him to carry on. That violation held so much anger and pain but now wasn’t the time to unpack it.
