Page 15 of The Redemption of Alex Cade
“Hello, Alex. Enjoying your break from work?” Kelvin grinned over the driver’s shoulder, his hard gaze not on me but on Kit, who was looking too damned small and a million times more vulnerable in his too big coat and fluffy red scarf.
I instinctively shifted, placing myself between them, knowing on some level I needed to protect Kit from my oldest friend. Kelvin noticed, because he noticed everything. His eyes flickered to mine, a flash of curiosity replacing his assessment of Kit.
“Alex, it’s not like you to be so impolite. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Did I hear the sneer in Kelvin’s voice? I wasn’t sure, but what I was sure about was the cold glint in his eyes and the feral smile revealing his incisors.
Kit smiled and held out his hand. Christ, it was like a lamb offering himself to a wolf.
“I’m Kit. You must be Kelvin, Alex’s business partner.”
“Oh, yes. That’s me. His business partner.” Kelvin thrust his hands into his pockets. A faint colour washed over Kit’s cheeks as he let his arm fall to his side. I ground my teeth as I glared at Kelvin, who returned it with a wide smile.
“Kit’s a friend of mine.”So fucking behave.
The questions in Kelvin’s eyes were impossible for me to miss.Friend? Really? Since when did you have friends?Next to me, Kit shuffled closer. It was the instinct of the hunted cornered by the hunter, and I felt rather than saw the confused glance he threw my way.
“Well, that is nice, isn’t it? And how did you meet Alex?”
“I—”
“Kit’s just leaving.” I beckoned the driver, who’d retreated to the concierge’s desk, showing the discretion he was mostly paid for. “Take Kit to—” I stopped and glanced at Kelvin before addressing the driver. “He’ll give you the address in the car.” Kelvin smirked. If he wanted to know where Kit lived, all he had to do was ask the driver. I tossed my keys to Kelvin, harder than necessary; he caught them effortlessly in one hand. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
“It was very nice to meet you, Kitten. It’s always a pleasure to meet Alex’s friends. And will we be seeing more of each other?”
“Er, possibly. And it’s Kit, not?—”
Kelvin had already swung around on his heel, heading towards the lift. I ushered Kit outside, the blast of cold, damp air a relief after the hot, woodsy cologne laden atmosphere in the lobby.
“Christ.” Kit rubbed his hands down his face. “That was… I don’t know what it was. But definitely weird. Your friend’s a bit scary,” he said, laughing nervously.
Scary. Kit had hit the nail on the head without knowing it. He had no idea how scary Kelvin could be. He stared up at me by the open door of the car, the glow from the streetlight reflected in his eyes.
“Don’t take too much notice of him. It’s a technique that’s proven useful for business in the past. I think he forgets he’s using it most of the time.” It was complete crap, a pathetic attempt to allay the instinctive reaction Kit had had to Kelvin. “Call me, when you’re back from bird bothering?”
Kit laughed, the tension visibly leaving him. My own shoulders loosened a little, but it wouldn’t be like that for long. I hit the top of the car. It glided away into the night. As soon as it turned the corner, I swung around. I wanted to know why Kelvin was here.
CHAPTER NINE
ALEX
“The punter you had a drink with in the club. Twice. The one you said you weren’t seeing again.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Been going through the security footage, have you? That’s a bit weird, even by your standards.” I’d meant it to be a barb, but the words tasted disturbingly real.
Kelvin snorted as he swirled the whisky he’d helped himself to. “It wasn’t exactly rocket science to guess who he was. Very blond, very lithe. I could tell at a glance, even under that stupid coat. And very much your type.”
I poured my own drink and said nothing, because I wasn’t prepared to talk about Kit, no matter how much Kelvin prodded. I shifted my shoulders in a useless attempt to relax the muscles that were now hard as iron. It didn’t work.
“I’m supposed to be on holiday. Remember? It was your suggestion after all.” I sat down on the sofa opposite the onehe was lounging on; he looked like a cat about to strike. “What’s happened?”
“Timmins is dead.” He said it with the force of a blunt instrument to the back of the head.
“What?” I jerked backwards.
“He was found in some stinking alleyway near Peckham, between two industrial sized bins around the back of a knocking shop. He was badly beaten, his throat was cut, and he had a gaping head wound. His phone and wallet were taken. Looks like a nasty mugging gone wrong. Or, if he’d been visiting one of the girls, maybe he refused to pay up and a pimp tried to teach him a lesson that went too far. Who knows? But it means any shit he might have been thinking of throwing isn’t going to hit our fan.”
“Christ. But what do you mean by shit hitting the fan? I was with you when you spoke to him, remember, when you told him to keep a lid on things? There was never any indication he was going to?—”
