Antidote (Don't) (29 page)

The little Micra missed me by inches, forced to screech to a stop, and I stumbled around to the passenger door and managed to pull it open before the tyres had finished smoking.

Screams from two kids hit the air, and I slumped inside the car, more scared of them than they were of me, hands held up in defence and trying my best to calm down the young mother who was already sorting through her handbag.

“Please, please, just listen.” From the look on the woman’s face, that wasn’t bloody likely. “I’m not here to hurt you, I...” I closed my eyes, gripping onto the passenger door and trying to shut it, “I just need help, please. I need.” I wiped at my cheek knowing it wasn’t just mud dampening the skin. “I need you to take me home.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, her eyes darting to her kids.

“Please,” I said quietly. “I won’t hurt you. I just need help. I need anyone’s help.”

A frown, the woman took her hand out of her bag and offered me her phone. “Call someone,” she said through tight lips. “Shut the door.”

I whimpered my thanks and took the phone after finally managing to shut the door with the aid of a strong gust of wind.

“Are you hurt?” she said as she slipped into gear and pulled off. I glanced at her, barely, unable for the second time to punch at the numbers. I couldn’t focus on any of the digits. Numbers, I couldn’t even count on numbers.

“Fuck.” I wanted to take that back hearing a kid mumble “mom” from behind, and quickly looked at them. “A friend...” I closed my eyes, my hand digging into my forehead. “...someone I love is, badly, so very badly....”
Say it, Jan, say the word.
I let out a groan and dropped my head back. I wasn’t going to believe a word those bastards said until I saw Jack’s bod—until I saw Jack myself.

“Hey, it’s okay,” said the woman, and I jerked under the touch that went to my knee. She shifted her hand, now sorting through her bag, and pulled out a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

I looked at it and her frown met mine. “It’s okay; it’s safe to drink.”

I took it from her and kept to little sips, somewhere remembering that too much too soon could do more damage. Then I was back with the phone. There was only one number that mattered, one person I wanted to damn well see buried next to Jack. Gray’s mobile started to ring, but there was no reply. “Jesus....” I bit back a cry. “What day is it?”

“What?” The woman looked a little startled.

“I need to know what... what day is it?”

“Monday, the thirtieth of Dece—”

“The thirtieth—” My stomach sank. How long? Two weeks? Monday? “I know where he’ll be.”

“Who?”

I gave her the address to Regent Square, and then nothing but getting to Gray and ramming the phone down his throat mattered.

The car hadn’t even stopped outside of Regent’s Manor before I was out and dragging myself across the gravel. Barely reaching halfway, my legs gave way and I hit the ground with stones digging into my palms and knees. For a moment I stayed down, too numb, just staring at the small bits of grit and stone digging into my palms. Then someone was pulling me up with a hand under my arm.

“Mr Richards?”

Whoever stood at my side blurred a touch, and my hand instinctively sought something to hold on to as life warped. I caught a security badge.

“Hey, easy,” a voice mumbled, then a whistle was given. “Hey, Mike, over here. Can you give me a hand?”A moment later, someone else buffeted me as a shoulder slipped under my arm.

“Jan? Hey, you okay?”

Mike. The tech guy who had set all the camera security at my home all those months ago came into focus, as did the security guard to my right. “Mike.” My hand went to his chest as I tried to turn around and point at the woman. “Don’t let her leave here. You need... need to find out where she picked me up.”

“Go,” whispered Mike, and the help off the security guard was suddenly gone, nearly making me stumble with the loss. “Easy.” Mike pulled me straight. “Where do you need to go, Jan? Who do you need to see?” He sounded calm, so professionally sodding calm.

“Gray.”

“Okay. He’s on the fifth floor in a conference with the Masters.” I was tugged forward. “Can you make it?”

“
Fucking move
.”

We made it through the reception, over to the lifts. I hadn’t walked properly for weeks, and it showed. People were either quick enough to get out of my way, or were jolted aside as Mike gave a look that made sure they did. Gripping my stomach and hating how much I needed help off Mike to get out of the lift, I saw Simons come at me from some cupboard hole in the waiting room before the hall. He’d been the one to tie Jack to a cross six months ago for my screw-up. I hadn’t liked him then, and I certainly hated the fucking sight of him now.

“You can’t go—”

“
Move
.” He seemed to scurry back a few feet, his look nervous on me, then Mike. He took the hint to stay out of the way as I pushed away from Mike and shoved through the main doors.

As the doors closed behind me, all talking in the hall fell into silence.

Gray was sitting next to Mistress Carr, and he started to stand, to frown, to fucking say something
—Yeah, you come and fucking say something, Gray
. I was by him in a few seconds, every intent there of hurling him onto the table, pounding hell out of his face, already doing that in mind and fucking loving the release, but he beat me to it. A grab at my jacket, he twisted me around, slammed me down hard onto the table, sending a decanter of water spiralling away as he came in close.

“What the fuh—”

“Time out?”
I cried in his face, cutting him off.
“He never cried time out in the texts. You... you think he’d stay away from you for this fucking long when he’s risked rape just to touch your fucking photo, you cunt
?”

Angered cries were already going up around the hall as Gray pulled me off the table and sent me stumbling back toward the door a few paces. “You.” Gray pointed at me. “What’s gone on, Jan?” he said quietly, looking at me, looking down at my body. “What
the fuck’s
gone on?”

“What th—” I laughed, more scared of the sound I made, hands going to my head. “Fuck you, Gray—
fuck you
. You... Firearms. You just take me the fuck to wherever you keep your firearms, and then you... you—” I couldn’t finish that, just crumpled down to the floor at the end of the conference table, head buried in my arms.

“Jan?”

A gentle stroke came to my hair and I looked up to find Gray crouched next to me. I was sobbing, I knew that, but I couldn’t find the words to let everything out any other way.

“What the hell’s gone on, lad?”

“Gray... they...” I wiped at my nose. “They hurt him so fucking much. They... I think, I think they killed him.”

Gray pulled back a touch as I wiped my eyes on my arm, keeping down for a minute as a fresh wave of sobs took over.

“Where’s Jack, Jan?” That couldn’t have been colder and I heard the click of a sidearm, the safety off. Gray was back to his feet, a gun at his side. I pushed up, making sure I stopped inches from him.

“That’s mine.”

“No,” he said quietly.

I held out my hand. “Give it, or I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you for it.”

“Which is exactly why you don’t touch this,” said Gray, turning away. “Brennan,” he called back into the room, “make a call to a few friends. Get them here. Simons, you’ve seen the state of this kid—why the fuck haven’t you got a paramedic up here?”

I barely glanced back at Brennan, at Mistress Carr, but when I did, I saw they had sidearms. The question over why they had been licensed to carry a weapon was there somewhere, but I didn’t care.

“I’m going with you,” I said back to Gray, bringing him to a halt.

Gray looked me up and down. “You’re in no state to walk out of this hall, let alone the building.”

“I know names, I know faces,” I said to him quietly. “I’ve been gone half an hour. If Jack’s still alive, he’s my only priority. You.” I pointed at the gun. “That’s yours.”

Gray watched me for a moment, weighing something up, but hiding exactly what that was. A look back at Brennan, Carr, he nodded at me. “You don’t move from my fucking side.”

With the address the woman gave us, we pulled up outside the disused warehouse just one hour after I’d stumbled out of the car boot. Six other cars were with us, two black Mercedes, the rest a bland assortment that looked like they were used to morphing into the background. Three cars stayed at the front of the building, the others pulling around the back. I’d managed to get some shoes on, have some patch up crap over dehydration from a medic who had come with us, but I was close to blacking out. As I got out of the car, caught another gust of wind, and looked at the warehouse, shivering took over now adrenaline had long since been used, recycled, then tossed withered and useless aside.

“Here.” Gray dropped his long black coat on my shoulders as we stood by the car and frowned when I jerked away from his touch. “If you feel you’re slipping, starting to black out, you sit down where you are.”

“Wasting time,” I mumbled, shivering despite the coat, and I started to shift for the warehouse. A hand on my arm stopped me, pulling me back.

“Not yet.”

“Gray.”

He was looking at Brennan, who held a small device in his hand. “Not yet,” he said again quietly. If it was a thermal camera Brennan was using to see into the building to judge how many people were inside, pointing at the floor wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Gray was looking at it too. “How many cars do you remember seeing here, Jan?”

“One, a Ford estate. I wasn’t exactly counting.”

“Okay,” said Gray with a hard sigh as Brennan cast him a look and put the thermal camera away. The dynamics had changed slightly between them, even I could see that, Brennan now waiting for Gray to give the nod.

Whatever arrangements were needed to handle this, they had already been sorted. As Gray shifted, his suit jacket opening a touch and showing his sidearm, I found myself staring, then noticing that Gray saw I was staring. “I’ve used one of those.”

“Yeah?” said Gray, barely looking at me, “you keep thinking that.” His voice didn’t have that hard edge despite the words, and giving a look to Brennan and Carr, he headed for the entrance.

There wasn’t much shouting, maybe the odd hold of hand up to an earpiece, a lot of listening, as I followed Gray in and around the first floor. Old machines rusted here and there, huge transfer presses that looked like they’d seen better days. Plastic wrapping that usually kept pallets and their goods in place drifted over the floor; a glass window showed an office of some sorts off to the left, beyond that, doors were marked up as toilets. No doubt there’d be a canteen close by.

“Fuck.” I doubled, suddenly realising. “Jack’s.” Gray was there, pulling me up. “We’d been at Jack’s—ah, shouldn’t be here, could have driven me here an—”

“Jan?” he said quietly, but I pushed him off, trying to back up, get out.

“Jack’s,” I mumbled, “we were at Jack’s.”

“Not possible, Jan,” said Gray, “I’ve been ther—” Something was said into his earpiece, making him frown, tilt his head, then he was looking up.

We made it to the second floor, and I slowed my pace seeing men standing outside of a door, one that had them passing strange glances between them.

Gray pushed past me but his touch on my shoulder was gentle as he eased past, his need to see what hid behind that door more of a drive than mine. Or so I thought. For a moment he faltered as he stood there looking in, and his confusion killed everything inside of me. Then he shook it off and he was in the room, spurring me on as he disappeared.

I didn’t understand, or more I couldn’t process what hit me. I’d stepped through Jack’s front door. To the left stood his coat stand, his stairs just ahead, slightly off to the right. Then a little further, his living room came after that. I went on through, and sure enough, the rest was a pure mirror of Jack’s living room leading through to his kitchen and breakfast bar, only this time full of Christmas decorations. His dining room was beyond that, and plates were stacked in the sink. A wok, spaghetti bolognese sticking to the sides...