Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
T he next morning I found Maia at the breakfast counter, frowning at her phone as she ate her toast.
“Morning, I think your nephew sent you another letter.” She nodded at the post pile and the dinosaur-covered envelope sitting on top.
“Thanks.” I picked it up, smiling at my address written in clumsy handwriting and the stamp stuck on at an odd angle.
Maia stood, picking up her half-eaten toast to finish in her bedroom.
She had a habit of making herself scarce when Keira or I entered a room.
At first I’d found it odd but I’d grown used to it and now just assumed it was a trait of an extreme introvert.
But there was something I wanted to speak to her about first.
“Hey Maia, I just wanted to apologize for never checking in with you after the night at the Never Tell Club.”
She frowned. “Why would you need to do that?
“It was a lot to take in,” I shrugged, “and you don’t know Alfie or anything about that place. It must have been a shock, I should have made sure you were okay afterwards.”
Maia stared at me, her dark eyes watchful but she didn’t say anything.
“Were you…um…okay?”
“Yeah, I was okay.” She nodded. “I had a good time.”
“Well…good. That’s good.” I smiled at her, trying not to laugh at how awkward I felt.
She turned to leave but paused, hesitating. “Lola, you’re a really good friend.”
“So are you, Maia. I’m really happy you moved in with us.”
She blinked before giving me a stiff nod and turning away. I heard the soft click of her bedroom door a moment later.
Coffee in hand, I settled on the couch to read the latest installment of my nephew’s story when the front door opened and my best friend stumbled through it, carrying her shoes. Her hair was dishevelled and her lips were swollen.
“Rough night?”
“It wasn’t bad.” She picked up my coffee and took a long gulp as she fell into the old worn armchair.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
“No one important.”
I frowned, noticing marks on her wrists. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been tied up.”
“It was consensual.” She sipped my coffee, holding it close to her chest. “How’s Moneybags? You saw him last night, right?”
“Yeah, he’s good. We went to therapy.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Seriously?” I wasn’t sure whether she was more shocked at the idea of him going to therapy or me.
I proceeded to fill her in on our session.
When I was finished she sat there, holding my now empty cup of coffee, a skeptical look on her face.
“You really think he’s gonna let you decide when you can and can’t see each other? ”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll know whether I can trust him or not.”
“You don’t already know that? Dude stole your birth control, Lola.”
“I know.” That wasn’t something a person could easily forget. “I can’t trust the man that he was but he’s changed more than I ever thought he could. I guess I just need to find out if it’s enough or not.”
She rolled her eyes, a move that sent a prickle of annoyance up my spine. “And then what? You walk off into the sunset?”
“I don’t know, Keira. I don’t have all the answers, I’m just trying to figure it out.”
“Well, don’t come crying to me when he fucks you over again,” she muttered, scowling into my coffee cup. I stared at my best friend, studying her face which I knew as well as my own.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Please don’t lie to me. You haven’t been right since you met Damien and?—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, the defensive look in her eyes telling me she was anything but fine.
“No, you’re not. When you thought Alfie was hurting me you fought with me until I told you the truth and now I’m on the other side, watching you unravel and it’s scaring me.
Why are you out drinking so much?” I grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at the marks.
“Was this really consensual? If Damien did something you can tell me, you can tell me anything.”
“Lola, you’re being so fucking dramatic.” She snatched her arm away. “I’m Fine .”
Liar. I knew my best friend better than I knew myself and something had happened.
She took a breath, her shoulders slumping as she pulled away. “I think I need to get out of London.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes, smudging her already smeared mascara. “First I need sleep.”
She sat next to me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. A peace offering. I leaned into her, welcoming her familiarity.
“I’m sorry for being a bitch,” she said. “You can always come crying to me.”
“Right back at you.” I hoped that she would take me up on the offer there and then but instead, she pulled away.
I watched as she retreated down the hallway, adding my best friend's bizarre behaviour to the list of things I needed to worry about, alongside Natalie and her new baby daddy, my failing project and whether Alfie was going to smash my heart into pieces again.
And judging by the serious-looking letter pile, the electric bill was overdue too. Great.
I downed the remaining dregs of my coffee, and headed for The Kew Gardens. I needed to think and I had a project to plan.
All day, I turned my project in circles, my mind distracted by my troubled best friend.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the marks on her wrists.
I imagined her tied up, being hurt. Keira had always been a bird that flew a little too close to the sun, I couldn’t help worrying that she’d finally been burned.
What if she’d bitten off more than she could chew this time?
What if someone had done something to her and she was too ashamed to tell me? The thought made me sick.
Finally, I gave up and headed home. Keira was the person closest to me in the world. The fight we’d had once, manipulated and exacerbated by Alfie, had caused cracks in our bond that were still healing.
Sure, I could blame her behaviour now on her insecurities about that but my instincts told me it was something more and I had a feeling I knew who could give me those answers.
On the tube, I chewed on my lip, trying to talk myself out of this. Alfie would be pissed, Keira would be very pissed, but I had let her down before and I didn’t want to be guilty of that again. If something bad had happened to her, I needed to know.
By the time I got off the tube, I’d made up my mind. Walking home, I pulled my phone out of my bag. Elliot picked up on the second ring.
“Lola, what can I do for you?”
“I need a ride, are you free?”
Elliot was free but once I got into the car and informed him of my destination, he was very much not willing. Nevertheless, he’d set off, not saying a word until we pulled up outside the black iron gates with the decadent gold lettering.
“Miss, I’m not certain this is a good idea. Alfie won’t be pleased.”
We passed through the gates, winding down the darkened road. I didn’t know for sure that Damien Marx would be here but when I’d asked Elliot to take me to him, he’d said the clubhouse would be a pretty safe bet, though I had a feeling he was regretting telling me that now.
“I won’t stay long.” The giant peacocks eyed us as we passed and a moment later, the Never Tell Clubhouse came into view.
I fidgeted, slightly nervous. It had occurred to me that I probably should have asked Alfie’s permission before coming here but this wasn’t a social visit and besides, he would probably try and stop me and I needed to speak to Damien.
Elliot pulled to a stop outside. I hopped out of the car and he followed suit. I gave him a questioning look, I hadn’t realised he’d planned on joining me.
“I can’t let you go in there alone. Without a collar you’re fair game.” He gestured at my bare neck. I was about to argue but he had a point.
“Okay, let's make this quick.” I hadn’t asked Elliot if he’d told Alfie where I was going but he always seemed to find out anyway. I was hoping he would play by Priya’s rules and not interfere without my permission.
I stepped through the front doors. The place was quieter than the last time I’d been here. Raucous laughter replaced with tittered giggles. Club members lounged, drinking leisurely, enjoying each other as they pleased but overall it was a far more relaxed vibe.
I stood in the foyer, unsure where to start. I recognised none of the members here. I picked the closest person to me, a young Asian man flirting with another man.
“Excuse me,” they turned, looking me up and down, eyeing my casual, worn-in clothes with distaste, “do you know where I can find Damien Marx?”
“I know where you can find the exit.” The young man snickered, turning to his companion. “I thought those Tellers kept a stricter membership policy.” He pressed himself closer, nuzzling the other man's neck, but his companion kept his eyes on me, studying my face.
“Don’t I know you?” he asked, ignoring the gentleman who was currently tugging on his earlobe with his teeth.
“I don’t think?—”
“You came here with Mr Tell a few weeks ago, right? I saw you, standing up there with him and the Tellers.” He pointed at the balcony where we’d entered the party. His friend had stopped his nuzzling, gazing at me with interest now.
“That’s right.” I nodded and they shared a look.
“I don’t know where Mr Marx is,” the first, obnoxious guy said, “but you can usually find him in the Onyx rooms.” Damn. I was not allowed in there. “I’ll show you.”
He disentangled himself from his friend and I followed him through a series of twists and turns to a part of the house Alfie hadn’t shown me last time.
We stepped into a hallway decked out in black drapes and black tile walls.
He came to a stop, pulling back a drape revealing just a plain tile wall.
He pressed one of the tiles, seemingly at random.
I gasped as it sprung open, revealing a keypad and intercom.
He keyed in a code and a voice came through on the intercom asking for identification. “Club member 5624, I have a visitor for Mr Marx. Her name is…” He looked at me and I stepped forward.