By CLARE LONDON (13 page)

“They beat you?”

The tightness of his tone jarred on my nerves. No point in keeping up the charade, was there? I knew I wanted out of here. And fast. “I remember every kick,” I said. “A few months ago I might have given them a better run for their money, but I’m obviously out of practice at taking on three guys twice my size. I don’t need that kind of trouble, Seve, not even for you. There are safer men to see.”

I was genuinely angry, but I knew my words were largely bravado. I didn’t want other men, did I? He must have known that. And he knew I didn’t want “safer,” or I’d never have come anywhere near here again.

“I’ll take care of it, Max.”

“Sure you will.” I suddenly felt more grief than anger. His hand was too close to mine, and his breath curled the hair on my neck. His existence made me vibrate with desire. Fuck, no. “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ve got to go.”

“You always go!” he growled. “You fuck and run—that’s what I tried to tell you the other night. Why won’t you give me time to sort things out? Tell me what’s pissed you off. Let’s talk about it.”

I stared at him, startled. “But this is what you want, isn’t it? You want to move on. It’s okay by me—”

“Is it?”

I gaped. I wanted to say: Yes, of course, it’s just fun, just fucking. “No,” I said. “It’s not.” I didn’t know what to make of this. He seemed genuinely disturbed and angry about the attack on me, but I didn’t know what else was going on in his handsome, well-groomed head. I put my hand to his to push it away.

He grabbed me instead. “So come with me, Max. I want you, you know that. I told you I’ll take care of what’s happened. I’ll make things good again.”

No! His hand was strong over mine. He leaned in the window and his mouth ghosted its words at my ear. Half of my mind begged me to listen to him. Every instinctive inch of me tried to squeeze its way out from under the seat belt and flow against him. His lean, sensual body and his rich, acquisitive lips….

The other half of my mind—the bloody-minded, masochistic half—won out. “Get lost,” I said coldly. “No one needs a fuck that badly. Or another beating. Find someone your family does approve of, if that’s your problem.”

I wrenched my arm away and he stumbled back. I saw shock flash brightly in his gorgeous eyes. Then I slammed my foot on the accelerator and the car lurched away from the curb. Difficult to concentrate on the wheel when your cock is hammering to be let out of your too-tight jeans and there’s a strange, painful tightness in your throat.

I didn’t do that corny old thing of looking back in the mirror as I drove off.

No, I didn’t.

So maybe that was going to be the last time I saw him.

I still didn’t.

LOUIS had another of those looks on his face. When I was at my meanest, I wondered how the hell Jack coped with the exhausting range of emotions that Louis inflicted on us all. Then I’d watch Jack’s calm, possessive hand on Louis’s arse and I knew they had it sorted out between them. I was the one who had nothing sorted out with anyone, and I was the one who really needed help. It was long overdue.

“Tell us, Max,” Jack said. They’d pulled the couch in the living room over to a couple of feet from the armchair, effectively forcing me to talk to them. It was late in the evening and I’d sat curled up in that chair ever since supper, with the remote control on my lap but the TV screen still blank and my book closed on the floor beside the chair, waiting hopelessly for attention.

“What do you mean?”

Louis opened his mouth to add his opinion, but Jack held up a hand to hush him. “Tell us what happened while you were away. There’s something going on that I don’t understand, and I suspect it’s to do with that missing time.”

I tried to shake my head but it just hurt. Everything hurt.

“I don’t see how we can help you, Max, if you don’t tell us everything.”

“Don’t need—”

“Yes, you do,” Jack replied firmly. He had a full cup of steaming fruit tea in his other hand. He was in for the duration. Bloody friends. “You’ve been restless and low since you got beaten up.”

“Hey, that’s to be expec—”

“But it’s not only to do with that. You haven’t been out on your own since the attack, so you’re obviously not seeing Seve anymore. You work extra shifts at work, you’re knackered and hardly eating.”

“You sleep badly too,” Louis added. “You shout out in the night.”

Fuck. “I’m sorry, guys….”

“No problem,” Louis said, and he really did sound like it wasn’t. “Just saying.”

“I think it’s depression,” Jack said gently.

Something twisted in my chest. “That’s crap.” My voice was thin. I looked at their concerned faces, and in my mind, something shook loose. Feelings that I’d kept well buried began to stir. This time I wasn’t sure I could keep the lid on them. My gut ached like those feelings were bleeding emotion inside my body.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Jack continued. “But I think it has roots back in the time before you met Seve, before the attack, before you came back here—”

“To hide,” I said quickly, too loudly. They both stopped talking and stared at me. “That’s what it was, you know. I’m a coward and a fuckup and I ran back here with my tail between my legs.”

“Max—”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I continued, speaking swiftly to make sure they didn’t stop me, didn’t allow me the benefit of the doubt any longer. “I left Uni because I couldn’t cope with it. I liked drinking and fucking and taking plenty of drugs, and I thought it’d go on forever. But I ran out of money and the course was coming to an end. I knew I’d be thrown out and all the friends I had were getting truly sick of me fucking them over—”

“Not all,” Louis said, only half under his breath, his eyes both angry and sad.

“So I left and took all that baggage with me to London.” I ran away—the first time. “I told you I was living with that moron Vince, but to be honest I already knew he was going to dump me. So I went out on my own, kept on the same way—drink, drugs, casual work. Plenty of action with men, some I liked, some I didn’t, but they gave me money or supplies.” Louis blinked a couple of extra times, but Jack’s gaze was steady. “It all turned sour pretty bloody quickly, but I thought I could make it work if I kept going. I didn’t have any other choice, did I?”

“Max,” Jack said. “Take it slow.”

I shook my head. I had to go on or I might never be brave enough again. “I wanted to be the great independent—be the man. Instead, I had no money, no food, couldn’t hold down a job, got hit on whenever I tried to sleep on a park bench….”

Louis leaned over and touched my shoulder. It was surprisingly comforting.

“Then I got offered a job at a club near Soho. I’d exhausted everything else—pub work, office cleaning at night, runner for the Chinese restaurants. The club was a new renovation, but it wasn’t exactly a regular job, you know? This man approached me and offered to find me a room and board if I did some errands for him. At first I just did some low-level running—some messages, a few packages.”

“Packages?”

“Drugs, money—shit, I didn’t know and I didn’t care. The guy got me regular food and a bed in a local hostel with other casual workers.” I edited over the following months as the trips got more frequent, the men I met more aggressive, the drop locations more dangerous. “It got to be a regular thing.”

“Who was he?”

I shrugged. “They called him Peck, I never knew any other name. He worked for the club.”

“You mean that was his day job?”

I stared Jack full in the face because I was pretty sure he’d understand without needing diagrams. “No, I mean he ran the drugs and the money from the club. They were behind it all. It was their racket. Apparently all the clubs in that group were known for it.”

“This club…?” Louis looked like he was up to speed now as well.

“A Medina Group venue,” I said bitterly.

We were all quiet for a moment. Louis glanced at Jack, but Jack was staring at me intently. “Max, tell me exactly what you did.” Jack was no innocent and he always wanted the facts.

“I worked for Peck exclusively in the end. I ran the drugs out of the club. I knew the local contacts, the preferred dealers, the negotiated prices. He did the deals, but I was one of the most popular couriers.”

“And?”

“And in return I got a room, food, protection. Yeah, and sometimes my own supply.” It hurt to say it after all this time. “I had a smart mouth and fast moves, and Peck said he liked that. He told me the management liked that too.”

And to be honest, it had been a heady and exciting time. I was someone important albeit in the strange, warped world of the street. The dealers looked at me with some respect, even if it was secondhand from Peck, who scared the shit out of them. I had a great time, especially when I was high—or at least, I thought I did. I slept around, went to some wild parties. I gave my hedonistic side free rein. It was what I’d always wanted, wasn’t it? To do what I liked, to suffer no authority. I deserved it after the miserable months I’d spent when I first came to London. And many of the partners I had were like me—decent people but caught up in an indecent business. We might’ve stayed together longer in a different life. I might’ve found someone special.

Right.

“I knew it wasn’t real, Louis.” My friend’s expression was stricken. “I knew it was wrong and I knew it wasn’t going to last. I was bloody lucky I didn’t catch anything or get seriously hurt. I just… didn’t know any better at the time.”

Jack broke in. “You say the management knew it was going on?”

I nodded. “They knew. They tolerated it. Dammit, they controlled it. Or so Peck always told me. And I don’t think he was bright enough to have run things on that scale on his own. The Medina family were in charge.”

“Shit.” Louis sighed and looked into my eyes. “You poor stupid arse.”

I smiled because it wasn’t the kind of pity I despised, it was just Louis being there for me. It had never been a great time, I knew that now. And what was more, I knew it then.

Jack’s quiet, strong voice brought me out of those thoughts. “And who was Stewart, Max? Where was he in all this?”

Here was somewhere I did not want to go, but I knew I had to. “He was something unusual, you know? He came around the parks at night. First I thought he was a pervert, then I reckoned he had some kind of death wish. Then he told me he’d been looking for someone in particular but gave up on that, got a job at the local youth center, and started looking out for other lost souls instead. People on the street hated do-gooders like him. Never did them any good. But Stewart was different.”

“Tell us, Max.”

I leaned back in the chair, briefly closing my eyes. “There was a group of kids I was friendly with. An odd bunch. All ages, all backgrounds. Some had been on the street for years. I’m not sure they’d have known what to do if they were offered anything else. They were all users.” All used up. “Then Stewart comes along like some naïve knight in white armor, trying to help them.”

I heard Louis make a small sound, but Jack hushed him again.

“He did too.” Even I could hear the amazement in my voice. “Didn’t tell them what to do, didn’t try to scare or bully or shame. He was just there as a mate, and eventually they came to trust him. He got Joe into a clinic. Helped Luce get a job at some canteen. Got some medical help for others.” How could I explain it? “He did things, didn’t just talk about it.”

“For all of them?”

“No, not all of them. That’s a job too far.” There was another brief silence.

“And what about you?”

“Yeah. He worked on me too.” I opened my eyes and laughed, rather sharply. “Stewart wasn’t a saint, you know. He’d let you know exactly what he thought. And what he thought of my job was that it was shit and I should stop it. Stop it and find something else.” I shifted on the chair. “I, of course, told him it wasn’t that fucking easy.”

“Your friends…?” That was Louis, still trying to find some happy pixie dust in among the shit.

“They weren’t friends, Louis. I had no real friends.” When it came down to it, it was a life of complete and utter solitude. Full of sudden violence. Sickness, drug abuse. Pain. Cold, wet fucking misery. Honor among thieves? That was all crap. The first time I messed up with a delivery, Peck had me beaten up. Second time, I couldn’t get out of bed for two days. I nearly starved until I got out for some food and drink. I didn’t mess up a third time. “It wasn’t easy because I couldn’t see how to get off the roller coaster. I had no money but I wanted food and dope. Peck would give me all that but only as my earnings. The cycle continued.”

Jack still seemed calm, but he clutched his cup like it was a lifeline. Louis had eased his way up closer to him on the couch.

“Stewart was your friend.”

“Yeah. At least, Stewart was the nearest I got. I found out he had been looking for someone—a friend’s runaway son—but the kid had scampered home at last and Stewart was going to move on. But when he saw some of the young people around Soho, he didn’t turn that disgusted-but-blind eye to it all that other folks do. No—he wanted to do something about it.” My mouth filled with the sour taste of regret. I should have protected him. I should have recognized the decency for what it was and treasured it, not taken it for granted. “We hung around together for weeks while Stewart was setting up his plans for the Refuge. He was in some kind of talks with the cops or with the social services. I didn’t know the details, and if he’d told me, I’d have said it wouldn’t change anything. But maybe it would. I’d been wrong plenty of times before. And gradually, I came to believe him on my own behalf. I still did my job, but I gave up the weed and pills.”

Jack made a small noise of encouragement.

“Yeah,” I said wryly. “It was hard at first, but luckily I considered food and drink more important than getting high, so I wasn’t too far gone. And I started looking for ways to ease myself out of the business, hoping they wouldn’t notice if and when I moved on. Stewart said he’d get me a proper legal job.”

And we didn’t go beyond friends. I think he was straight, though I never saw him with a girlfriend or boyfriend. But he never made a move on me—it wasn’t like that with us. There were times I wished it had been, when I wanted to give something back for his attention and care. And what else did I have to offer?