Don't... 04 Backlash (28 page)

“Jack likes his
cars, hm?” said Dare, nudging at Jan’s elbow.

He got no
reply, just a frown from Jan who kept turning his hands over,
looking at them. Gray had hardly touched his breakfast either, so
Trace heaped his extra few slices of bacon onto Gray’s plate to...
recommend that Gray eat something.

“You’ll need to
know the security protocol for access to and away from the manor,”
said Gray, but Trace filled in the details, bringing Gabe and Dare
up on the security issues surrounding the manor. Aided by Ed’s
knowledge, mention of all the CCTV and surveillance around the
grounds already had Gabe looking ready to hightail it home on the
next motorbike, and twice Trace had to make sure Gabe focused back
on listening. Gabe had all the room to breathe he needed with being
here, but nobody was taking second chances with anyone getting onto
the property to disturb that. They played safe, they stayed...
safer. But they kept Jack from walking, Jan from scoring away from
his dealer. Drug abuse was something they were all too used to,
more so Dare and Gabe and how they’d handled Kyle over in America.
Gray needed space to work this out; they’d make sure he got it.

“Now that it’s
light out,” said Gabe, looking as though he was enjoying his full
English breakfast, “Jan, can you show us the CCTV around the
grounds?”

Not having
touched his breakfast or coffee, Jan sat there, hair wild, still
sleep-swept. Fingers were bitten raw. Not the nails, not the
cuticles, but the skin itself, sometimes down to the knuckle on his
thumbs. They bled in parts, or showed painful patches of red where
skin had been bitten back. If he looked bad last night, the hours
between had seen him cry out a few ghosts, and that long stare down
at his own form of self-harming didn’t seem to judge why parts of
him were missing. Gray had fought some of those demons with Jan
last night, but Jack had backed away from the bedroom, taking to
the next room and giving Jan... space, even when Jan had cried out
his name.

As he watched
Jan, Trace wondered what was going through his head. Why he sat
there still denying his addiction. The fear was obvious, but
sometimes, like now, that look.... It wasn’t for Martin, it wasn’t
for Jack, just... his own hands.

“Jan.” Gray
brushed a touch over Jan’s thumb and something stirred Jan. They
shared a look, a shared... something. Understanding on Gray’s part,
guilt on Jan’s? Trace didn’t know; he couldn’t tell. Gray had shown
every tough-love going with Jack in the past, yet here was this
gentler side with Jan. Trace understood the tough-love side, but
how Gray acted atypically with Jan...?

“Work,” Jan
mumbled eventually, and Trace got a look from Ed, who’d sat quiet
since Jack had left. “I’m at work today.”

“Not a good
place for you to be.” Gray reached over and poured Jan a fresh
coffee into his own empty mug. “You’re ill.”

Jan was back
looking down at his hands and they started to shake. Yeah, thought
Trace. He needed work for one reason only.

“I’ll be fine,”
mumbled Jan.

Gray left it at
that, but he didn’t look happy. Trace knew all the surveillance
would be there keeping a close eye on Jan at work, but it could
still cost him his job and sanity.

“You sure?”
Dare inched the sugar over, but Gray shook his head. Jan seemed to
like his black, with no sweeteners on the side. “I bet we could get
Jack to ditch work too? Maybe go see—”

“Work.” Jan
looked up at Dare, offering a very tired smile that soon faded.
“Said he was busy, right?” He eased back in the next moment. “Be
good to see you, though. Normal.”

“Deal,” said
Dare.

Gray looked
away, but his hand stayed on Jan’s for a moment longer. “Okay.” He
pushed his chair back, looking at his watch. He was already late,
but he’d made sure he’d taken time out to keep life and breakfast
normal for Jan and Jack. “I have to go.” He cast a look at
Trace.

Trace picked up
on the hint and grabbed his own coffee. Giving Jan a smile, he
indicated with a nod of head that he’d walk Gray out.

“Keep an eye on
them both.” Now in the hall, Gray turned up the collar to his long
black overcoat. “Please.” He looked around, maybe to see if Jan had
followed, maybe to see if Jack had found his way out of hiding. The
only change for the good last night had been Jack’s look at Gray.
It didn’t ask if he needed to catch a plane back to Wales, or if
he’d be back after work, just how he’d like his coffee when he
did.

It was a good
look. But it was one Gray seemed to miss seeing before he went to
work.

The confusion
just came when they both looked at Jan.

“Yesterday was
spent tracing Logan’s phone records, also questioning if the source
of the codes knew anything about it only being a partial list.
Jan’s dealer was traced to work and she’s been warned to give Jan
methadone, nothing more.”

“No arrest?”
Trace frowned.

“Take away his
source, he’ll go elsewhere. This source stays controlled until I’m
ready to do anything else.” Gray ran a hand through his hair, the
movement showing off his firearm. Trace buried a snort knowing just
how that control would have been gained. As for the source of the
code? Gray had discreetly brought him up to date on the codes, but
the “source” itself had gone unmentioned. Gray told him what he
needed to know; he had an idea this was the one thing he didn’t
need to know.

“Jack won’t be
happy when he finds out Jan’s going into work,” added Gray. “Keep
an eye on how they both react.”

Trace offered
him a sip of his coffee and Gray took it. Trace watched him for a
little longer.

“What?” said
Gray.

“He needs
Domming, Gray.”

Gray handed him
back the coffee. “Jack?”

“Jan. Not in
the bedroom; he’s not one for that outside of playing. He needs
something else entirely. He’s looking at you to help him get
through this with Martin and the drug abuse.”

Gray held his
gaze. “You don’t have to live a BDSM lifestyle to be there for
someone. Jan... his vanilla side needs preserving; it’s who Jan is.
He needs to know it’s okay to admit he has a problem as much as
Jack did.” Gray reached for his mobile when it let them both know
he had another text. “And if Jan can’t find his voice, admit to a
problem, and gain a secure footing, then it’s not fair to put any
pressure on him with our lifestyle.”

Trace came
closer. “When he needs to let go of the responsibility, he’s crying
out for you to take the responsibility off his shoulders. It
doesn’t happen often, but he needs something where there are no
obligations for him in the bedroom, but his life and harder life
choices would get plenty of attention from a damn good Dom.”

Gray looked
back towards the door.

“Controlling
his habit and Detox, his movements, you’re already in that role
caring for him body and soul. He just needs to hear you acknowledge
it and explain what it means and represents, that this is never
just about sex.”

“He needs to
know it’s okay to break, to say he needs to break, Trace. Nothing
more. I like Jan the way he is.”

“Then what else
is going on between you two?”

Gray frowned
and Trace shifted slightly. “I saw his fascination with his hands.
What happened?”

Gray didn’t say
anything, not for a moment. His ease of gaze back to where they’d
come from perhaps ensured Jan wasn’t around.

“Gray?”

“He nearly
killed a man.”

Trace couldn’t
picture it, not Jan, But then that look down at his hands.... “So
it’s not just the drugs, the rape... the demonology surrounding
Jack and Martin.” Trace gave a hard sigh. “Who?”

“Doesn’t
matter.”

“Who, Gray? It
was enough to mention it.”

Gray sorted
around for his car keys. “Vince.”

“Jack’s
rapist?”

Gray nodded.
“Baseball bat to the skull and jaw.” He had that same stare down at
his hands, but now they focused on the phone.

“Hey,” Trace
said gently.

Gray looked up
and offered a smile. It still looked tired, very much lonely and
lost. “Don’t aggravate Jan in any way, he’s unstable. Make sure
Jack doesn’t rush in heavy-handed either,” Gray said just as
gently. “Look after them both. I’ll give you a call later from
work. I’m back at seven o’clock tonight. Any problems at all—”

“I have your
number. Concentrate on this.” Trace tapped Gray’s phone, noticing
it wasn’t Gray’s usual taste in phones. “Something else you need to
talk about?”

Gray ran his
eyes over what came up onscreen, and the look there nearly had
Trace hitting something. “What?”

Gray said
nothing and went to slip the phone back in his pocket. Trace took
it off him and held a hand up when Gray shifted to take it
back.

Jack and Jan
lay facing each other in bed. Normally there’d be nothing unusual
about that, but Jack’s face was battered and bruised, his lip split
as a hand pulled his head back. Tears streaked Jan’s cheeks in the
dull light of the room, and across the screen shot....

Don’t... fuck Jan for me, Jack.

“Fuck.” That
had been sent today, but there were two more files. One he’d seen.
But the one that came in yesterday?

So that
was Vince, all body-builder, with a neat
I look like Jan
haircut. He stood at the top of Jack’s
stairs, with a thinner man who wore a cheap gold watch. Henry? Jack
was there too. The thinner man had his arms out wide, as if he’d
just taken a step back and given up trying to hold Jack back. Jack
was caught looking down the stairs, but the angle of his body was
all wrong. His foot had slipped off the first step and he was
trying to reach out and stop the fall. Vince’s shoulder-shove
called how he’d never find it.

“Jack said he’d
thought he’d heard Jan cry out and he’d fought through the drugs to
try and get to him. He thought he’d lost his footing there,” said
Gray quietly.

“But to control
the aggression....”

Humpty... dumpty...
wrote itself across the photo. Followed
by—
her indoors
didn’t like him that much, but did he fall or was he...
pushed.

“How does he
know this is Martin’s sick phrase?” He looked up at Gray, then
eased off seeing him rub at his eyes. Elena Fortello had been
caught in the back of the picture too. “I know you’re going there
already with this.” Trace handed him the phone back. “You just find
this Kes and have all the fucking fun you want with him, okay.”

Gray pulled out
his Mercedes keys. “Just watch Jack and Jan for me, please. Make
damn sure they stay here.”

“Always.” Trace
waited for him to head on out and over to his S-class coupe. The
pull away was hard on the gravel, leaving pebbled crunching beneath
tyre. Trace took the last bit of his coffee, then glanced back at
the phone over in the lounge. After resting his mug on the mail
table, he went on through and picked up the phone. The leather
chair took the weight off his feet for a moment as he rubbed at his
head and briefly closed his eyes.

A number found
a way into the phone, then Trace waited for the call to be picked
up on the other end.

“Hello.”

“Hey,
love.”

Quiet
came from Micah’s end, then—“Hey back...” The words were long,
slow, drawn out on a sigh that said
missed you badly, Sir
.

Trace eased
back into the chair. “You sound damn good.”

“You don’t.
Need to talk?”

“Yeah. More
than....” Trace gave a hard sigh. “I need to ground Jack and Jan
quickly, and I have a few ideas. I’m just not sure how well they’re
going to go dow—”

Voices came
from back in the reception hall and Trace covered the phone,
listening. The sound of retching turned Trace’s stomach, and the
phone found its home with barely time enough to apologise to Micah.
He’d left Jack and Jan alone for ten minutes... just ten
minutes.

Trace made it
into the hall in time to see Gabe standing there shaking his head.
Over by the door, Dare stood by Jan, although his attention was
focused on Jack as Jack tried to bypass him and get to Jan.

“Easy... easy.”
Dare rubbed at Jan’s back. A pile of watery yellow vomit graced the
marble floor, and, wiping at his mouth, Jan stood, leaning over it
with one hand on the door. He’d been vomiting most of last night,
too; stomach lining was all that was left and no doubt coming with
the bitter aftertaste of what he’d taken.

“He...” Jack
shrugged Dare’s grip off his arm. “Jan.... You’re too bloody sick
for work. Just listen to me, soft lad, please. Stay here. Get back
to bed.”

“Work. Just
need work.” Jan rubbed hard at his forehead, looking as though he’d
slept his way through getting dressed: jeans not zipped up, shirt
pulled out one side, tie knotted and lost somewhere in his jacket
sleeve. Trace went over, and giving Dare a frown, he took over
rubbing at Jan’s back.