Read Antidote (Don't) Online

Authors: Jack L. Pyke

Antidote (Don't) (31 page)

“Harry” nodded. Before he left, something passed between Brennan and Gray, a look that had Brennan moving over to Harry and whispering in his ear.

“This is well funded,” said Carr, watching Jack’s bedroom scene on the monitor. “And I mean
well
funded. Replica of a home setting, premises, equipment. And then there would be wages.”

“Wages?” Closing my eyes briefly, I pressed my forehead against the doorframe, then looked at Carr. “People
paid
to watch this?”

“Sometimes just for the thrill of watching it,” said Carr.

“But...” I ran my tongue over dry lips. “But this was corrective. You... psychological reconditioning... A reason, all of this shit, there has to be a reason.” The tears I wiped away said there needed to be a reason for all of this.

“Other than the porn-site links,” said Gray, “did Jack mention anything out of the ordinary happening, about anyone visiting his house before this happened?”

I shook my head. “We’ve been at yours mostly. And Jack was the one who taught me what to look out for when it came to letting people in.”

“But his house has been left open without him being there,” said Brennan.

“Jack’s next door neighbour, Ken, he would have mentioned anything unusual like the alarms going off,” I said and Gray nodded.

“I’ll pay him a visit and double check to make sure,” said Gray.

“What if it’s a past trainee?” I managed to step in the room a little, but avoided looking at the screens. “Someone who’s been to Jack’s? Someone that Mark Shaw got to before he died?”

“If it was a past trainee who Mark had gotten to before he died,” said Gray, “Mark would have known who I was, who you were all those months back.”

I just about saw the logic behind that.

“And Jack’s trained nobody else at his house since, either,” said Carr. “I’ll still run a check on past trainees to make sure.”

“But it is someone who knows Jack, his habits, his lifestyle, his home.” I eased against a wall, life spinning again.

“You need to sit down, Jan,” said Gray, pulling one out. But sitting in a chair that had been occupied by someone who watched every aspect of that nightmare down there, it made me want to throw up.

“No,” I forced through my teeth. Showing weakness would get me shunted out of the picture, although as his grip tightened on his sidearm, his look didn’t say that.

“Jack’s cognitive therapist is new to the MC,” Gray was talking to Brennan now, yet still looking over here. “I vetted her before she took him on: married, two kids, settled financially. But she would know his personal and social traits; home would be out of professional scope, but that’s not saying she can’t be ruled out.”

“Got it,” said Carr, although I never saw her take out pen and paper.

“A list, you said?” said Gray to me and I nodded as he narrowed his eyes. “That suggests to me that Vince wasn’t in control of this.”

“Why?” I said with a frown.

“Doms have their own signatures,” he replied, “their own preferences when it comes to dealing with a sub. You said they went by a list. Someone hired him knowing a Dom would be traceable because of his preferences, his style. They needed a non-dom.” His breathing seemed to be deliberately controlled.

“A rapist,” said Brennan.

“I’ve already said that,” I snarled, but Gray shook his head. “One with a history, Jan, one who would see the BDSM through because it fed his own desire to control.” He looked at Carr. “See who’s known; Go with first names, Nina,” said Gray, causing her to pause. “He seems arrogant enough to think he wouldn’t get caught. Also tie it into the other names: Henry, Leo. Match it up to any DNA forensics pick up. He’d work with people who shared his MO, people he trusts.” As Nina nodded and left, Gray came over to Brennan. “The people who funded this...” he said to him. “They would need someone in the community, someone with connections who’s not stupid enough to hand them a Dom, but who would have the right connections that would put them in touch with the likes of Vince.”

“Even suggest that a Dom would be traced in the first place?” Brennan narrowed his eyes. “Someone with a knowledge of how the MC base worked, how they’d track things down too? How to hide and pass people on in the sex trade and make connections through it?”

“Keal,” confirmed Gray. “That fuck’s involved in this all right.” He didn’t even look at me before he was heading out of the obs room and calling out to no one in particular. “Find out where Mr. Ryan Keal is.”

“There’s no time for a court order,” said Brennan. “And Keal will just cry for that greased-up lawyer of his, like he’s been doing for the past few years—”

“I can delay any communication from where he is so he can’t call anyone,” shouted Carr from somewhere.

“Not needed. He’s under contract now,” shouted Gray. “Keep your teams’ hands as clean as possible from here on in. Both of you.”

I didn’t know what the hell contract meant, but I caught Gray by the arm and he gave such a hard look. “You can’t see this, Jan.”

“Jack, he’s my priority,” I said flatly. “Everything else, that’s yours.”

That weighing up came in Gray’s eyes again, staying there for a little longer this time, but the meaning was buried so quickly before I could read it. “You do nothing but follow my lead.” Brennan joined us too now. “We find Jack, you make him your only priority,” said Gray. “The rest... it’s mine, do you hear?”

“You... you think Jack’s okay?”

Gray glanced at Brennan, but no one said anything.

Chapter 27
Keal

Gray had put a call in to some friends. MC? MI5? I wasn’t really sure, didn’t really care. But he received a message back only ten minutes later giving him Keal’s location. Considering it was Monday afternoon when most people were just finishing off the work day and getting ready for New Year celebrations, I’d seen Gray only narrow his eyes on being told Keal was at home, apparently having left work only an hour ago
ill
.

“His home,” I said, huddled in the car next to Gray. “This Keal, he got any kids? A wife?”

Gray shifted into gear but never replied, not for a good ten minutes until he’d avoided the main streets of London. “A girlfriend who’s at work. One son called Logan. Thirty-three and not into Keal’s business,” he said eventually, his gaze straight ahead.

I nodded, focusing my attention on the car in front and trying to deny the blurring going on with my eyes.

“They touch you, Jan?”

Resting my head on the window, I kept my gaze firmly ahead.

“You told me about Jack.” Gray’s lips were thin, pale, looking like he was ready to chew something up and spit it out. “They... did Vince or any of his men, did they lay a hand on you too?”

“What did you do when you took my call, when you saw those texts?” I said quietly, folding my arms, hugging myself. Cold, I felt so cold. “Did you believe them?”

Gray’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “Yes,” he said flatly.

“Without a time-out call? You really think Jack would avoid you for this long?”

“I hurt him again and—” Gray changed gears. “—Jack, around you....” He ground his teeth, defining the muscles in his jaw. “Fucking so unpredictable. Even with his disorders, I could figure out every move he’d make, but you? You make this difficult. You—” Whatever else he was going to say, he seemed to stop himself.

“It never crossed your mind to double-check?”

“I fucking double-checked.” I could tell in his eyes he had. “Steve had messages from Jack checking up on the Strachan side of things, Jack’s father had messages to arrange cover for his work. He’d packed his clothes, made purchases on his card over in Essex; you’d also packed and sent regular messages to your mother.”

I pushed up. “I
what
?”

Gray’s attention was far too focused on the road, the way ahead. “You’d already booked time off work, I checked. I gained access to your mother’s house and checked her phone records.”

“You—you broke into my mother’s?”

“I checked,” said Gray. “Your mother won’t find any trace I’ve been there.”

I screwed my face. “What... what did the texts say?”

“That you’d gone away with Jack. You’d be back after the New Year. One on Christmas Day wishing her—”

I choked a sob. “Vince,
he knows my fucking mother, where she lives
?” I punched the dashboard a few times, grateful for the pain it brought. Something else to focus on, some other hurt, but barely any strength to do any real damage, barely any strength when Jack had needed it. “What did you do with Jack’s car keys?”

Gray frowned over at me as I looked at him. It scared the fucking life out of me that we had been made to disappear so easily, no trace, no questions. Or at least questions that wouldn’t have been asked for a few weeks, and by then—


What the hell did you do with Jack’s car keys, you fuck? He’ll need them when he
—”

“Easy,” said Gray, quietly, casting a glance at me. “Jan, you’re off track a little with your thoughts. I need you calm; I need you to stay focused just for a little longer, okay?”

“You started with the fucking questions.” I instantly closed my eyes, bit back the anger.

“It’s all right,” said Gray, but a gentle touch that brushed my leg made me thump his touch away.

We drove for a while down the A216, then took a right into Rural Way. At the end of the street was a run of land that took us up to a security station. Two security guards sat in the box just before a huge gate, and I didn’t question why Gray slowed, already flicking the switch for his window to come down.

“Can I help?” said one beefy-looking man in a black suit as he stepped over. He leaned down into the window and I never flinched when Gray jammed a Taser against his neck. The guard went down, but not before Gray caught him, then pushed him to the side. Already pushing out, a gun aimed on the second security guard to keep him still in the box, Gray ordered him out.

Urine stains marked the man’s trousers as he lay there, rolling on the floor. Gray, his gun and gaze on the second security guard, flicked at something back inside the security box and the gates rolled open.

“Down,” he said to the guard and the slim man quickly complied. The sound of crunching tyre was heard, and another two cars pulled up behind Gray’s. Brennan and his men filed out, taking charge of the two guards as they were forced into the back of the Mercedes. Gray had a few quiet words with Brennan before coming back. He got in and put his foot on the accelerator.

“Listen carefully,” he said quietly. “You don’t panic. You can’t be harmed in here. You don’t get out. When I stop the car, you stay where you are and you don’t move until I tell you. Nobody else from my team will approach you, so if anyone but me even attempts to, they won’t be friendly and you drive away. Keys are in the ignition, I have a spare set. Keep the doors locked at all times.”

The curved driveway took us up to a detached three-storey home, and as soon as we drew up to the house, the two security guards who had only curiously watched us drive up suddenly seemed to catch on that something was wrong. Dull thuds hit the Mercedes, and I flinched. “Ballistic protected.” Gray spoke calmly from my side, still driving. Now up by the main doors, Gray was suddenly out, using the Mercedes as protection. I looked straight ahead, gripping onto the seatbelt as shouts, cries, and the dull thud of bullets went up outside and around the car. Brennan and his men pulled up behind us again, and I stared ahead, blanking out the chaos outside. People were getting hurt, but it was strange how it didn’t matter; nothing mattered. Nothing but getting to Jack, and these bastards were in the way of that.

Everything fell quiet. Two men stood outside of Keal’s house, Harry and one other of Gray’s men from the warehouse. Blood lined the courtyard, long drag lines where bodies had been pulled across the floor. Part of me wanted to smile, wanted to follow the lines in some morbid game, but I couldn’t move.

Time passed, then someone pulled open my door and ordered me out. I sat there until Gray tugged on my arm. He was the only one with a key to the Mercedes, so it had to be Gray.

“Come on.”

I got out and Gray shut the door, his gaze back on the house and mine followed his.

“Jack?” I mumbled, but after watching me for a moment, Gray shook his head. “Not yet. But you watch some of this from here on in. You need to watch some of this from here on in. Put these on.” He passed me some black leather gloves, then indicated to the house. I followed him in a moment later. He wouldn’t have let me if it hadn’t been secured, and I clung onto that little spark of trust in him, even if it was only a little.

Nothing looked out of place inside, just the odd, broken pane in the front door. But with white floor tile and walls, I was led into a lounge that looked pretty enough to welcome prospective buyers with all its white leather. A show home. Where Keal’s men had gone, I had no idea, didn’t even ask. In here, it was just me, Gray, and the odd thump from upstairs that made Gray look up every now and again.

Seeming satisfied with something, Gray went and dragged one of the dining room chairs into the middle of the lounge.

“Keal?” I said eventually, just as movement came from back by the stairs.

“Just joining us,” said Gray, pulling up a second chair and twisting it so he could sit and face the second chair in front of him.

“Ah,” said Gray as Brennan pushed a struggling man into the lounge. “Nice to see you again, Ryan. How’s your boy, Logan?”

“What? What the fuck are you playing at, Raoul?” Keal, hands bound behind his back, tried everything to push back the way he’d come. What the hell you’d expect look-wise from a sex trader, I didn’t know, only that Keal wasn’t it. He was all grey hair, friendly green eyes, old, about Jack’s dad’s age and looking Santa-friendly, only without the port belly, and dressed to impress with a very expensive-looking grey suit. He looked at me and I swore he looked the sort to ask out for a drink. But then his gaze was back to Gray, already dismissing me like any company director bypassing the lowest paid office worker.

“I’ll have your MI5 cock on my barbeque for this, you fuck,” snarled Keal. “You can’t come in here without a search warrant.”

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