Chapter 11 #2
“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-million dollar 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 and that he 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.
Alfie turned back to the fire as he found his words again.
“Wealthy members only, but guests were allowed and they could be of any financial status. There were only a few members that were allowed to bring guests–myself and my Tellers, one or two others, but there were hoops to jump through to get them through the gate.” He took a breath and I gazed at him, my attention rapt.
After waiting for so long, to finally have him talk so freely was exhilarating.
“First, you had to give two weeks advance notice to me or one of my Tellers that you wanted to bring a guest. Then, said guest had to undergo a rigorous background check and sign a shit load of paperwork to be allowed on the property. Once through, the guest was given a necklace to wear for the duration of their stay that identified them as a guest. That part was non-negotiable. The necklace would be put on and locked before they entered and the keys would stay with a different Teller to the one they were accompanying. When they were ready to leave, they had to find that Teller to have the necklace removed, which wouldn’t be done until they were off property. ”
Holy crap. They weren’t playing around.
“I know that sounds excessive but it was for everyone's privacy and protection. The club had an ‘ anything goes ’ policy. The necklace signified that that person was a guest and that there were lines with them that couldn’t be crossed. The member who brought in the guest was entirely responsible for them. They ensured their safety. Make sense?” he asked, looking at me to make sure I was still with him.
“Yeah, it’s smart.”
“And it worked. Charles, however, never liked rules. He would turn up with some equally volatile friends and my Tellers and I had to shadow them all night to make sure no one got hurt. He’s the reason that we now have undercover security who pose as members at every event.”
“You couldn’t have just not let him in?” I asked. Alfie opened and closed his mouth, his jaw ticking.
“I was too afraid,” he answered finally and my heart clenched to hear it.
“I’m ashamed to admit that but it was true.
Besides, refusing him entry would have signalled to the world that there was a problem with him and, to the world, my brother was the golden child.
I knew what he was, Riley and Elliot too, and from my behaviour, my Tellers had gotten an inkling.
They didn’t ask questions, they were good like that, but they figured out enough to be on their guard when he was around.
” He took a steadying breath. I knew we were getting closer to unearthing his secrets and the closer we got, the more he struggled.
“So, Charles would come and the night would be tense as I waited for something bad to happen but for the most part, he behaved himself. Until he started to bring girls. Vulnerable girls, desperate ones. They walked into those parties looking at that wealth as if finally, they had found a way out of their troubles. Charles liked to dangle his wealth in front of them, then snatch it away. A cat toying with a mouse.” He shook his head as if it disgusted him.
“The first girl he brought, I insisted on her wearing the necklace signalling her as a guest. Charles agreed to it. Then, later, I found the girl in the kitchens, screaming as he tried to burn it off her neck with a creme brulee blowtorch.”
I was shocked but I shouldn’t have been. My stomach turned over at the image. That poor girl.
“She received medical attention, was compensated and hushed up, but I never made another one of his girls wear a necklace after that. I still remember that night, the girl crying in the kitchen, the smell of burnt flesh and hair, the look on his face, that sardonic smile when he said ‘now look what you made me do. ’” He grimaced at the memory.
My hands twisted in my lap. I didn’t want to hear any of this but I needed to.
“Word of what he did that night spread through the club. He made everyone nervous, but with his mask off, Charles felt less need to hide. Especially knowing that our confidentiality policy prevented any member from disclosing to the outside world what he was really like.”
I could feel him building. All of this backstory, all of this scene setting was building to something big. Alfie took a deep breath.
“When I was twenty three, Charles arrived with a new play thing. Her name was Lina. She was a small, dark-haired thing, just his type. I had one of my Tellers run a background check on her like I did for all of our guests. Not in the two weeks prior like we were supposed to, but while she was already in the clubhouse. It was better than nothing. Usually, the check came back pretty basic, but Lina’s came back like the world's most depressing episode of This Is Your Life . Foster care, a criminal record for solicitation, vagrancy, shoplifting, the list went on and on. She was about as vulnerable as it gets but she looked at Charles like he was about to give her the moon.” He sounded disgusted.
My stomach turned thinking of such a vulnerable person in the grasp of someone as unhinged as Charles Tell.
“He brought her around a few times and each time…she never cried and she never asked for help but his treatment of her wasn’t decent, to say the least. I tried to step in when he left her alone, asked her if she wanted help, offered her money, but she just wanted Charles and I let it continue.
Covering up for him had become a way of life for me.
I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d called the police and reported him the first time I saw him hurt someone.
I think often about how many people might have been spared his damage if I’d done that.
How many people he hurt because I didn’t have the guts.
” He bit off his words, the hatred he held for himself like venom in his voice.