Page 34 of Compulsion

“I’m in charge here. I supervise this club. I go my own way—”

“Not always.”

He stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

“A few times when we’ve gone places in your car, we’ve been followed. Didn’t you notice?”

Seve frowned. “You’re paranoid. I don’t understand why.”

I knew I was right. “I think they’re watching you, Seve. Either because they don’t know which way you’re going to go—or they’re doing it with your blessing.”

“What the hell?”

“You say you’re in charge, Seve. You certainly seem to be, at the club. But I know what happens behind the scenes, and with the management’s say-so. If that’s happening at Compulsion too, maybe you think you need some protection. To stop anyone getting too close.”

“What do you think is going on? That we’re living out a Mafia thriller?” He stood up abruptly, pushing back his chair with a scrape. “This is unacceptable, Max. Why are you harassing my uncle’s business like this? My business? This is my career and I’m totally committed to it. What has it to do with you?” He paused suddenly, as if a thought struck him. Damn same thought struck me at the same time, but it was too late to backtrack. “What do you know about it all, Max? You said you know what goes on behind the scenes.”

“Seve.” I began a feeble protest. Things were starting to go downhill. “I just know what sort of guys these are. Trust me on this.”

He stared at me. I could see his chest heaving too much for normal breathing.

“Please,” I said rather desperately. “I knew Peck before, you know? In London. Perhaps I never told you I spent some time there….”

“No. You didn’t.”

I peered at his angry face. Hadn’t Peck told him? Maybe Peck never recognized me after all. Maybe it was all one huge weird coincidence. “He runs a racket out of the London club—your uncle’s club. I don’t know how or why Peck turned up here.”

“But you believe it was to run the same kind of racket?”

I shrugged. It sounded pathetic in the face of Seve’s confident ire. “I don’t know.”

“You have evidence of these things? You’ve seen them happening?”

“No, not here. But you’re not likely to advertise it, are you—?” I knew at once I should have kept my mouth shut.

“But you’ve seen them in London? Tell me how that was, Max. Did you report this, either to my uncle or the police? No, I didn’t think so. Your silence confirms that. So in what capacity did you see evidence of these events?”

Just for that moment, I heard the power that he must use with staff or people he wished to impress one way or another. His voice was as strong as always, but it also had a sharp vibrancy that made me want to do exactly what he said. To obey him. And not just in sexual matters, when I was already more than halfway willing.

“Sit down,” I said. “Please.” I waited until he did before continuing. “I worked for Peck, once. In London. And not on security.”

“You were one of those couriers?” His voice was low but still sharp.

“Yeah. Well, I just did odd errands at first. I needed the money and he didn’t ask for any references, you know? Then it just developed.” It had been some weird kind of promotion. “There were a few of us on the regular rota. I got to know them well. Some of them were very young, Seve. Most of them were users.”

“You too?”

I hesitated and flushed, which was an obvious answer to that one. “I haven’t touched anything except alcohol since I moved back down here.”

“Why did you come back in the first place? If you were doing so well in London—”

“That’s not what I said!” My voice was loud and Seve flinched. “You think I liked having no money, being dumped, having nowhere to live? It was only going to be for a while. I know I let it get its hooks in me—I guess that happens to a lot of people. And not all of them can get out, you know?” I remembered the kids that Stewart couldn’t help, the sad ones, the mad ones like Baz. I drew a deeper breath and tried to calm down. “It’s all behind me now. You don’t need to know how I got out, just that I’m damn glad I did, and I don’t want to get drawn back down into that sewer again.”

Seve hadn’t moved throughout my explanation. Now he raised a hand, very slowly, as if to appease me. “It doesn’t matter to me, Max. What you did, what you were. What you were into.”

“Well, it fucking matters to me, okay? And it matters to your family, doesn’t it? To your uncle. Because that’s who I really worked for, Seve. That’s who paid me, controlled me, directed me!” Seve was shaking his head, his eyes dark, but I didn’t think I could stop now I’d started the tirade. “If your fucking uncle is into all that, why not here in Brighton too? New club, new manager, new market. Why else would Peck turn up on your payroll, doing what he’s best at, running his own sordid little business on the side under perfect cover of a glamorous nightlife, with people who’ve had too much to drink and smoke, who’ve got money to invest in the cycle of dealing and creating addicts all over again?”

“Max, that’s enough. Listen to me—”