Page 22 of The Redemption of Alex Cade
Pouring myself a whisky, I leant back in my chair, closed my eyes and let the low thud of the music from the dance floor at Euphoria wash over me. Kelvin was on his way; the last time I’d seen him had been that night at my flat. It was the longest time we’d been apart since the day he’d walked through the door of the foster house. Christ, it was like we were tied and bound together in some weird and screwed-up marriage yet for the first time thoughts of, if not divorce, then certainly separation, were beginning to pull at me. I chugged down the whisky and poured myself another, because my relationship with Kelvin wasn’t the only thing that was unsettling.
It had been a couple of days since the evening at Kit’s, an evening that had left me off balance. Not in a stomach churning about to throw up kind of way, like when you staggered off one of those fair ground rides that chucked you around and turned you upside down. No, it felt more like arebalance, areset, as though my life had shifted and had found its new axis. And it shook me up just as much as thatrickety, heart pounding fair ground ride. The difference was, this was one ride I didn’t want to get off of.
I’d hesitated over making an arrangement to meet Kit again. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I wanted to too much. Every experience I’d had with a man had been both feverish and desperate, yet transactional and cold, a way to satisfy basic needs before the whole cycle began again. With Kit, and for the first time in my life, I was navigating a relationship.
Earlier in the evening I’d taken a deep breath and sent him a message, suggesting we meet me at my place tomorrow evening and then go for dinner at a fabulous Thai place in Hampstead, smiling as I pressed send, knowing all things Thai were his happy place. That had been hours before, and when his response came it had been no more than a thumbs up emoji.
The door burst open, shattering my thoughts, as Kelvin crashed in making an entrance in the way only he could.
“Those fucking cats.” The words burst out of him, dark and angry.
“What are you talking about?” Although I knew. The scabby, skinny things that scavenged around the bins behind the club; they were nothing like Buster, the ginger fluff ball I’d met at Kit’s.
“Just seen one with its head in the stomach of a rat. Or maybe it was another cat.”
My stomach turned at the image. “It was probably a half eaten kebab somebody had thrown away.”
“Whatever, but it was bloody disgusting. I hate the shitting things. I’m going to get the cleaning staff to put out some poisoned meat.”
I winced. “I don’t think that’s in their job description.”
“Their job description is whatever I say it is.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll deal with it.” Although how, I had no idea. Kelvin grunted. A change of subject was needed. I nodded to the laptop, open on the desk. “It’s all as it should be.” The money in, the money out, the credit side climbing ever higher, making us richer with every passing day.
“So nothing I need to take a look at?” He poured himself a whisky. “You want a top up?”
I shook my head, a no to both questions.
“Good. I like it when everything’s the way it’s supposed to be. No nasty surprises, nothing to upset the apple cart.” He raised his glass in a salute, and downed his drink in one.
There was something in his voice, something I couldn’t put my finger on, something more than his usual bluff, throw away tone. I met his gaze. Always focused, always assessing yet somehow it felt more intense and penetrating, as though he were trying to read every part of me. But it wasn’t just his voice, it was all of him, somehow burning brighter than ever.Fuck’s sake… I was imagining stuff; it was Kelvin being Kelvin and nothing more.
“Got a call from McNally. Timmins’ death has been announced. Street robbery gone wrong, a tremendous loss to the Force, a fine officer held in the highest esteem etcetera, etcetera. Which is all bollocks, as we know.”
Timmins. I’d all but forgotten him.
“The anti-corruption investigation’s going nowhere. They’re turning up the odd low level backhander, but nothing that comes near us. McNally said the ACC’s played his cards wrong and has ended up looking like a right twat, and is trying to wind the whole thing up pronto. You know,” he said, leaning across the desk, “I think I might just go along to Timmins’ funeral, whenever it is. Raise a glass to a longstanding former colleague of sorts. Make sure his scabbyremains really do end up in the fire. You want to come? We could treat it as a day out, and put it down to expenses.”
My lips twitched, because it was exactly the kind of thing Kelvin would do.
“You can be one sick bastard, Kel.”
Kelvin fluttered his eyelashes. “Thanks, babe. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in a long time.”
There was always some aspect of the business that needed discussion and sorting, but with nothing to cause us any concern, we concluded everything quickly. There hadn’t been any reason to meet, but we’d always preferred to meet face to face to deal with business. Kelvin always said it was safer that way, and he was right. I picked up my jacket and shrugged it on.
“You going downstairs?” Kelvin smiled as he nodded at the monitors, showing the gyrating, writhing dancers down in the club.
“No. I’m going home. And I won’t be working tomorrow night.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Other plans.” I turned and left, the space between my shoulders tingling as the scorch of Kelvin’s glittering, hard gaze burnt into my back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEX
