Page 58 of Compulsion

“Tell me,” I said.

“It was Mama. She’s been trying to call me since last night. Since I went to see her about the club, she’s been looking into my uncle’s business. And yesterday….”

“What?” I could see his eyes were full of shock.

“She was burgled. Nothing was taken, but the house was ransacked. And she’s received several anonymous calls. Someone has been in her house, is accessing her life, is harassing her.”

“Your uncle? Peck, working on his behalf?” God forbid, not Baz, even if he wouldn’t be doing anyone any harm now.

“I don’t know, but she believes my uncle has initiated it. Enough evidence was in the records to make her suspicious of my uncle’s finances—there’s a trail of potential money laundering. She had made an appointment to see him tomorrow, but now….”

“She should get away from him,” I said urgently. “Get her somewhere safe. Then she can pass the investigation to people who know what they’re looking for. Who are qualified to take the risks.”

Seve looked at me. His expression was strange, as if he were happy and sad at the same time. “But that is exactly what I must do, Max. You’re right. Go to her and protect her. Between us, we have enough to go to the police. But until they can protect her by arresting my uncle and anyone else who is involved, I’m the only help she has.” He blinked hard. “I must go to her as soon as possible.”

“Of course you must.”

“Max, you don’t realize….”

“What?”

He sounded exhausted. “She has already fled to her home. In Madrid. I must go to her there.”

I stared at him for a long moment. The look on his face was awesome; it was soft and hard and bitter all at the same time. It reached right through me to something far beyond. It was a look of angry challenge and also a look of defeat.

“What are you really saying? What about…?” I struggled to say it. “About Baz?”

He reached over and ran his hand behind my neck. It was as if he wanted to pull me in for a kiss, but all he did was stroke my skin. “Leave it to me, Max. Leave it all to me. Let me and Mama clear up this mess. I promise you that we will. It’ll all be okay. My uncle will be exposed and arrested. We’ll all be safe.”

I didn’t want to stare at him—I didn’t want to lose my righteous anger into the dark, vibrant depths of his eyes. What I wanted was to see my face reflected in them as I did when we were held close. I wanted to see that hint of nervousness, the softening of the arrogance that had been gradually disclosed to me over the last few weeks. I wanted that truth, at least. “You want me to keep quiet about this? To let you dash off to Spain and leave me here, with some kind of promise that it’ll all be okay?”

“It will, Max. I do not promise lightly. Mama is scared, but she’s honest and determined. But I need to be able to join her in Spain. I need a few days to plan things with her.”

“What happens to Baz’s body in the meantime? You’ll leave it propped up in your kitchen between the dishwasher and the fucking fridge?”

He winced. “Of course not. I will… arrange things.”

“And me? What will you arrange for me?”

His grip tightened. “You will not be at risk. I will not allow it. Just give me this time, Max. Let me do this. And then I’ll be back. Trust me.”

I wanted to shout, Why the hell should I? But I wasn’t a kid anymore. Even if what happened tonight had been outside my control, I’d put myself in this situation. The choices I’d made, the paths I’d taken—they’d led me here. A thread of cold understanding had sprung up inside me, growing like a shoot out of a seed—one of those you grow on a school windowsill in a jar, you know? All green and new and slightly amazing. I resurrected a long-buried memory—we’d all grown one of those seeds when we were kids in school. Mine had shriveled away from neglect. Jack’s had grown steadily and modestly until we planted it outside. Louis’s had lain dormant for the longest time, then burst up six inches overnight and sprouted a flower or whatever. He’d been the talk of the class for days. I tried to get him to admit he’d dosed it with some secret fertilizer, but he never confessed.

I was rambling in my mind. I missed my friends. I wished I had their help now. “I just can’t believe the way you talk about it, Seve. You told me once I was too melodramatic, but you… I don’t think I know you at all. Aren’t you scared of anything?”

“Of course I am.” His hand slipped away from my neck and he pulled back on the couch. “I’m scared of you.”

“Me?” What the hell?

“Of the look on your face now,” he whispered raggedly. His eyes were wide with what looked like genuine fear. “Of your withdrawal from me. Of losing you.”

I HAULED myself up from the soft luxury of the couch and went over to the window. I opened a couple of inches of the blind and the morning light flooded in, careless of either material obstruction or human angst. It spilled a thin pale band across the carpet and Seve’s bare feet, then dappled on the couch cushion beside him. His hands were clenched tightly, his body tense. He was holding back from following me—touching me. I was sure he wanted to use his desire to influence me. That had always been his way in the past. Our way. Why would I expect him to change overnight? Or myself to change, for that matter. Because I’d felt the same arrogance for so long now that it’d become as much me as my skin. “I am as I am,” I boasted to anyone who’d listen—maybe not directly, maybe not intentionally. But it was there in everything I did and said. I carried my baggage like a prize while all it did was drag my arms to the floor like I was a fucking gorilla.

But things—and people—did change, didn’t they? Whether it was deliberate or not, welcome or not. We all had baggage from the day we were born. And as we limped along in life, lumps of experience bounced off us like tiny meteors, and we gathered even more. But how far did you let it drag back your progress into the future?

“You’ve kept me at bay as well, Max,” Seve spoke quietly.

I spun around to look at him. “What?”