Page 28 of The Redemption of Alex Cade
“He’s a nice boy. Like I’ve said. But would he be so nice, would he look at you in the same way, if he knew who you really were? Because he doesn’t know, does he? Which means you’re kind of lying to him. Picking up club rats, that’s one thing. They’re stress relief, and we need that in our job. But more than that? It doesn’t work, babe. It can’t work.”
“Why not?” I had to challenge Kelvin’s grim outlook, one that had been mine, too, unquestioned and taken as fact.
Kelvin tilted his head, a sad smile on his face. “Oh, babe. Haven’t we been through this? Tell me how you’re going to explain your life. You know, the one with the big, luxurious flat overlooking Hampstead Heath? The top end Range Rover? The Porche? The bespoke tailoring? The one of many Rolex watches? Even your lovely, sprawling villa nestled in the Spanish mountains? Need I continue with the very long list? Because sticking to the line that you’re the co-owner of clubs and bars doesn’t get anywhere close to explaining away your very conspicuous wealth. He’s going to wonder, if he hasn’t already, because he doesn’t strike me as stupid. He’s going to question if you have fingers in other very lucrative, pies.”
“Why shouldn’t he believe me when I tell him I’m a successful businessman?” I held Kelvin’s gaze, even though my nerves felt like millions of ants crawling over my skin. There was truth in what he said, even if I resisted believing it. “But you turning up and playing the heavy, maybe he will wonder, now. Which is what you’re aiming for,” I slung back at him. Kelvin ignored the barb.
“You can play along with the fantasy that you can have the nice boyfriend from the suburbs because maybe it makes youforget who you really are. For a while. Some people need that escape. Never been one of those myself, but hey, we’re all different. Thing is, though, it’s a fantasy, a make believe. If you try and force it to be otherwise, how long before that veneer cracks and falls apart? How long before the truth—the very real, and very ugly truth as suburban boys like Kitten would view it—seeps through like a wet and dirty stain?” Kelvin leant forward, his voice dropping. “How long before you feel the urge, the need, to bare your soul and put us both in danger, to tell your sweet little Kitten what you really are, eh? How long before you tell him you’re a pimp and a drug pusher?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KIT
I slumped back into the seat, closed my eyes and groaned in almost orgasmic satisfaction because red curry, pad Thai, and stir fried pork had a way of doing that to me. The low laughter across the table pulled my eyelids open, and my heart stuttered.
God, but Alex was stunning. It kind of made me wonder why he wanted to be with me.
“Good?” he asked, and I nodded.
The restaurant was packed, as it always was. Rickety chairs and tables, screechy Thai music crackling through ancient looking speakers mounted on wall brackets, and fading posters advertising long ago Thai boxing contests. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
The bill was slapped on the table and a young, harassed looking guy stood over us with a card reader. With a queue snaking out the door, it was our cue to leave. I grabbed the bill before Alex could, doing my best to ignore the thunderous look he gave me as I tapped my card against thereader. I’d always paid my way in life, and even though Alex had more money than I ever would, I wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, it felt good doing something nice for him.
“And there was me thinking we could have dessert, followed by coffee and brandies. Thank you. Even if I am annoyed,” he said with a huff.
“Then you’ll just have to stay annoyed, won’t you. Come on, let’s go.”
Outside, I linked my arm through his as we made our way to my place, just a few minutes’ walk away. I loved my little house, the development was well cared for, but the wider area was plagued by high crime rates, and not all of it petty. I led the way, taking us the longer route rather than the shortcut known locally as Muggers’ Alley. Fine during the day, at night it was pitch black and only to be used in an emergency.
I made the coffee we’d not had in the restaurant and took it through to the living room, along with a bottle of supermarket lable brandy I’d won in a raffle somewhere. I had my doubts about it, but it was the best I could do.
Alex had his back to me, and was looking through my slightly wobbly bookcase. He pulled a book out.
“How do you even begin to teach English to foreigners?” He held up a battered paperback that had been my Bible at one time.
“With difficulty.” I put the tray down, and picked up my coffee. I wasn’t sure I wanted any of the dodgy brandy.
“So, you took one of those teaching English courses and taught businessmen?” He pushed the book back into its slot and came and sat down.
I laughed. “No, on both counts. I pitched up on Koh Tao. It’s a small island known for its diving, but the thing was I didn’t dive. Long story short, the owner of the place where I was staying made me a proposition. She’d teach me to dive ifI helped her two kids with their English. They were already pretty good, they just needed lots of practice with conversation and their confidence boosted. I think I got the better part of the deal.” I nestled back into the cushions, my mind drifting back to that idyllic time; it was one of the happiest memories I’d brought back with me from Thailand.
“So it was a gap year.” Alex laughed. “An extended holiday.”
I clattered my cup down, spilling some coffee over the table. No, it wasn’t a holiday, never that.
“Kit? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I had no idea why his comment had got to me the way it had. Others had said much the same, when I told them I’d spent time in Thailand, but I’d always been able to shrug it away.
I sighed and closed my eyes as Alex’s warm hand settled on the back of my neck, his thumb sweeping backwards and forwards.
“Thailand was incredible,” I whispered. “The place was exactly what I needed.”
“Why did you need to go? Because needing something isn’t always the same as wanting.”
“No…” No to telling him why, or no as an agreement? In that moment, I wasn’t sure which.
With every brush of his thumb, he pulled the words from me. “I—I just had an opportunity, that’s all. You know, after uni and before getting a grown-up job.” I was still fighting, still pushing back down into the darkness everything I’d never told another living soul.
