Antidote (Don't) (42 page)

There was a lot of knowledge there in that gaze, and I eased my cup back onto the table, not letting Steve’s hard-ass glance fall from mine in that moment.

Standing there in my office, Steve didn’t seem fazed in the slightest about my reaction to what he’d just said. “But,” he added quietly, “those people you fucked with back then, they don’t know how daft and downright soft you can be around the people who you care about. Gray, your dad, now this Jan bloke, they’ve helped you get there.” Sam started to say something but Steve shut him up with a shake of head. “So will I phone Gray again at the risk of getting a beating off you?” Steve came in close. “Every fucking time, Jack.” He eased back, tugging Sam away from me. “Now, I’m not here to make sure you drink that.” Steve glanced at the soup. “I need to get the accounts sorted. Whether you believe that or not is up to you. Either way, I need to get some work done and I need your input. You gonna help?”

“I can get coffee.” Sam was looking between us, then settled on me. “You need a coffee, right? You always need coffee.” He looked down at his hands. “Sit down for God’s sake, you look like you need a coffee.” He was on me again. “And if this is all because of those black Mercs... please, keep them away from Liam, yeah?”

“Jack. Please,” said Steve.

Whatever anger had been there was lost to nothing, just a need to get through the day, not think. Thinking led to dangerous places, ones I didn’t want to open the lid on. Flicking a look at the desk, I eased the chair out and sat down all to hear Steve rustling in his jacket pocket for something.

“Got you this,” he said placing a square boxed present on the table. “Saw it a few weeks back and thought of you.”

It took me a while to reach over and pick it up. For such a small package, it felt so fucking heavy. Picking off the ribbon, then easing the edges of the paper open, I opened the lid and pulled out a huge mug.

Like, worst boss e-ver
was printed on it, over and over again.

I snorted a laugh, then chuckled a little more. “You twat,” I said, looking at him. Steve was smiling too.

“Oh here.” Sam started sorting around in my desk, hands all everywhere. “I got you this.” He offered something over and I took it off him. “Socks,” I said without opening it. “Sam, socks?”

“Special ones,” said Sam, letting a grin take away some of the ghosting on his face as he took the gift back and opened it himself. “Here.”

They were good quality, soft, smooth. And all sorts of spanners were printed like skull and crossbones all over them.

“Y’know, for those times when you’re, y’know, a little nuts.”

“Fuckssake,” I choked, rolling my gaze “Didn’t exactly have the chance to get you pair anything,” I said and Steve’s smile instantly dropped as Sam waved it off. Burying it, Steve gave a shrug. “I did the Christmas bonuses, Jack. Why do you think the books aren’t balancing?”

“I’m not generous enough?”

“When I’m pulling strings, yeah, you are,” he said, and offered this smug grin.

“Forewarned is forearmed and all that bollocks,” I said quietly, rubbing at my head. “At least I know where I stand, who to trust.” A little hurt crept into his eyes. “Accounts, yeah?”

Sam seemed to relax a little. “Coffee, I’ll go get you two some coffee.”

“Thanks, Sam,” said Steve. As he set out the books, I took a sip of the soup, then another, then it was finished as I set about sorting the books and Sam brought us up our coffees. Yeah, a few times I got a look from Steve, from me, to my soup, but I ignored it, that and the need to take a breath and not feel so fucking claustrophobic.

We were finished for three, and I was back on the garage floor for ten past. Aid had assigned Sam to give me a hand doing any heavy work. He came in handy. With Sam doing most of the moving, I kept my head on someone else’s problems. Problems that were easily fixed with a spanner and torque wrench.

By five I made a call to the old man, but by half five, I was back on the main floor. Jobs came in that needed to be done, shit always needed to be done, and after that I couldn’t give a fuck about time.

It was going on for twelve midnight as I threw my keys on Gray’s table, then started unbuttoning my coat. Lights were still on all over the place and it had that warm feel to it, bodies moving and having kept the old place company. Ed came out first and nothing pissed me off more than to have him take my coat off my shoulders as I shrugged it free.

“I’ve got this, Jack.”

I let him take it, watching as he hung it in the closet, then came back out. “I have homemade soup ready to serve, maybe some coffee? The soup, just some lovely caramelised onions, wild mushrooms, carrots. One of your favourites.”

I looked at him, thinning my lips. “Thanks. I’ll take some up to my room.”

His eyes lit up. “Excellent. You go and get comfortable. I’ll bring some up to you.” He was already heading off towards the kitchen. Giving a scowl, I headed on over to the stairs, but a glance back into the open lounge had me pausing.

Jan was curled up on the sofa, fingers curled around the edge of the blanket that was draped over him, up until it covered almost half of his face, leaving only closed eyes to the elements. He had this deep frown etched on his brow, barely visible under hair long enough to touch his eyes, and despite the warmth, he still looked as though he’d spent most of the day outside in the snow. His face was pale, the skin pulled tight over his fingers, looking more arthritic, painful to move.

Sad. He just looked so fucking sad. And alone. He shouldn’t be alone now. I couldn’t stand him being alone now. Wasn’t us back there. Wasn’t him.

“He’s missing you, kid. Badly.”

Breathing became very calm. Gray stood behind me and it took everything in me to look at him. There was a good few feet between us and distance. I needed fucking distance.

“Steve call you after lunch to say whether I’d eaten?” I said, and Gray nodded. No pause, no apology for the whole spying bollocks, just a nod.

I gave a small smile.

Gray didn’t. “Jack, you need to know that you can’t do what you’ve done today again,” he said calmly. “If you’re going out, I need to know where and be given time to arrange surveillance.”

I wiped a hand over my mouth. There was a need to run, to hit out, throw up, I just couldn’t decide which. Gray came close and I buried a groan, maybe opting more for hitting him now.

“I know you need to work, get back to normal and see your family, but you need to know you will be under surveillance once you’re outside of this property, at least until I find who’s behind this. You—”

“Whatever the fuck you want,” I said, looking away. “Your way or four foot under the motorway, right?”

Gray eased back. “Safety’s way,” he said gently, then, “and what I’d
like
is for us to try and take some time out, maybe talk over the next few days. Get a statement and find out if you remember a woman named April Leamore, a nurse. Your father said a lady had bumped into him in a cafe in Epping Forest. CCTV picked the exchange up, and photo ID tagged her identity.” Gray paused. “Miss Leamore hasn’t been at work or her home address for a few weeks. Do you remember meeting her at all?”

There was a need to chuckle. “This ‘talk’,” I said. “Is it something I need to dress all formal for, or will just jeans and T-shirt do? While we’re on, shall we arrange a location? Your office, perhaps? Or have you gotten over being seen out in public with me yet, maybe enough to wander out in the yard, hmm? As for Martin and Leamore? How the fuck do I know? Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, maybe he just wasn’t soft around the edges to allow April to put him in a box and hide him under the bed, like the more recent, and slightly more fucked-up owner—you. Have—” Time slipped. Strange thing being, I felt it coming, but couldn’t stop the fall of images as—

“Come on, Jack, stroke your cock against me. Come on,” whispered Vince. “Touch yourself for me.” I groaned, nearly clawing backwards on the bed, into Jan in the corner.

“Just me, Jack.” More kisses along my throat. “There’s only me now.”

Jan was there, he was right fucking there in the corner.

“Chase away those bad dreams.”

Bad dreams...

I let my hand find my soft cock and tried everything I could to get some life down there. I needed life down there to show him I didn’t dream, that I could let him touch without worrying about dirt, but needed quiet sometimes, just a brush of head against hip, a gentle nudge of nose to jaw, to get him to allow me to kiss, to touch, to fucking come alive, to—

“Fuck, yeah, Jack, just—just like that, beautiful. So fucking hard.”

I had life down there, the fuck did I have life in my hand, in my cock. There was something—everything about feeling my cock brush hip—and as I played against Vince, he watched. I loved that he just watched.

“Yeah, fucking love that.” A hand swallowed my balls, massaging, tugging. “Harder. Let me see this fucking hot body of yours shoot.”

Strokes came harder, faster, and an arch of body, dig of my cock into his hips, I fucking loved it. Just that touch of cock against tanned hip, feeling all that control above me.

“C’mon, kid. Fucking work that body.” I cried out feeling my cock brush his hip, every ounce of my come covering my abs as he flattened my cock against my abs.

“Fuck.” Hands ran over my ass. “Fucking gorgeous watching you shoot like that.”

I eased up as he headed into the bathroom, now sounding happier as he whistled his way through.

Come. Come stained my abs, and men—real men ge—

“Jack?” Gray was frowning at me in his hall. “You weren’t here for a—”

I grabbed him close, pulling him in, stifling a cry in the curve of his throat, needing the right control, the right scent, the right feeling—Gray. “Off, get the fucker off my skin.”

He’d jolted for a moment, then I had all of Gray as—“Easy...” Hands instantly came up, stroking gently at my back, head resting against mine as he shut the world out with his hold. “Easy, stunner.”

“Images... fucking fragmented—they keep tumbling around in my head, catching me out. And bastard... the bastard got the piercing wrong,” I mumbled, screwing my eyes shut and gripping hard at the nape of his neck—not even knowing where that last image came from. Jan’s terror with being pushed down level to my chest—everything, it tried to force its way up at once. “Left’s for a fucking Dom. Didn’t know, he didn’t fucking know subs take right,” I said quickly, scared with how fast it rushed out. “Just couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop them hurting us, killed me knowing Jan was hurting, that he might just be some fucked-up dream, that you and Jah—”

“Jack?”

I glanced back by the lounge at the same time Gray did. Blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Jan was all barefooted with his head resting against the doorframe. Eyes seeming to ask a thousand and one questions as he frowned over at us.

It was there, that instinct to shift, to grab him into me, just hold on, and let him know it was okay. But... worry. Giving a groan as he took a step closer, I pushed away from Gray. Burying the need to throw up, I headed upstairs. Turning left to take more stairs into the west wing, I rounded a column, out of sight. Breathing a little easier, I let my head rest against the cool of the column and closed my eyes. Voices drifted up from downstairs, Jan’s, Gray’s. Quiet, soft—whispers, maybe the soft sound of gentle sobs.... But more fucking whispers that only disturbed shouts and cries in my head. Then scratching, itching. It took a while to realise that last one came from me, and I frowned down at my side, the scratching at my hip, just fucking itching. Always itching.