Don't... 04 Backlash (46 page)

Jan had a towel
wrapped around his hips, damp hair suggesting he’d been in the
shower after Jack. Jack was dressed already, but his look was lost
to the needle going into Jan’s arm. Gray gave them some space as
Jan took a shot of methadone. Brown eyes closed for a minute, so
Jack took over the needle and finished what Jan started. Everything
was disposed of later, then after making sure Jan was okay, Jack
came over, splitting Gray’s legs as he moved in close. Gray rested
an arm around Jack’s neck, pulling him in closer as he watched Jan.
He always needed a few minutes to himself after shooting, but it
wasn’t done without one of them keeping a close eye on him.

“Mornin’,
mukka,” Jack slipped a touch around Gray’s ass, digging in
lightly.

“Morning’,”
replied Gray, trying not to fall into how Jack looked at him, yet
failing so helplessly.

“You
eaten?”

“Not yet,” said
Gray, kissing at his cheek, then resting cheek to cheek with
him.

“You need food,
mukka.” A touch drifted Gray’s side. “I know how sick you’ve been
lately.”

Gray closed his
eyes, then twisted his look to Jan. “You okay, abstract?”

Still caught
against the sink, Jan shivered. “Trying to get there,” came his
lost murmur, and giving a frown, Jack moved back over to him.

“Easy....” Jack
went in so close, and Gray hid a sad smile at how it echoed the
years they’d spent together. The positions so easily reversed for
those who fell to the wayside.

Gray looked
away. Sam was part of that now, Steve.... How long before that look
swamped Greg’s eyes... Jan’s....

It hit Gray now
how deep Kes’s touch went, how long he’d been shifting and shaping
them as pieces, pushing them around into place, all for one moment,
all for one name.

Gray looked at
Jan... at Jack.

“We need to
talk,” he said into the quiet of the bathroom. Then he stared at
Jan... at Jack. “And I wish to God I knew how to say this without
losing either of you.”

Jan sat nursing
silence on the floor, pressed up against the wall, head buried in
his arms. No splinters ran the glass wardrobes this time, no broken
wood from the drawers, no twist of light to call out how the world
carried on spinning no matter how much they needed it to stop.

Jack was on the
bed, Logan’s mobile phone tossed onto the covers. Knuckles were
white, face bringing out the ghost who had walked Gray’s halls for
so many years. He hadn’t moved for the past fifteen minutes, not
since he’d seen the first photo of Jan, then the last one of
Sam.

Trace had come
into the studio with Greg at some point, his silence on Gray, his
silence saying he was there for Gray whilst Gray was there for
Jack... Jan. Greg remained quiet, but more because he was witness
to his son and his lovers’ worlds tear apart again.

“Rob?” Jan
groaned, burying his head a little more. “Someone killed him and
his toddler... because I know Jack? Because I love Jack. And
Sam...?”

Gray went and
crouched by him, his stroke gentle at the back of his exposed hand.
“To instigate a reaction, to—”

Jan’s
chuckle was hollow as he rested his head back against the wall. “A
reaction? Jack’s? I was the one that nearly fucking raped him. How
well did that work?
What fucking reaction did that gain
?”

“Martin,” Gray
said gently. “But it didn’t work back then. Jack was more focused
on everything you were going through, rightly so. What you two have
between you, it was fast, brutal, but natural. It gave you some of
the best protection against Martin being triggered.”

“
So they
raped us?” He shrugged. “They slaughtered a fucking baby to get
access to a few codes, and they
raped
us?”

“What you feel
didn’t cause Rob and his kid’s death, Jan, this killer did.”

“But because I
know Jack. Because Martin saw those codes back in that garage.
Because of my father, my mother, every fucking move I’ve made since
I met Jack. I mean, was meeting Jack part of that fucking natural
plan you were talking about or does this Kes really pull out all
the stops where accidents are concerned?”

Gray eased back
a touch and Jan’s eyes widened with every inch, pupils pinpointing
so finely.

“Oh fuck... oh
fuck—”

“Triggers, but
through Kes’s ‘accidental’ signature mark,” said Gray, pulling him
in close. “If they’re after Martin because of what he saw back
then, then Kes is using every tie back into Jack’s past to get to
him. How did you meet Jack, Jan?” he asked quietly, but he already
knew this.

“Garage.” Jan
went so still. “He was recommended to me.”

Gray kissed
gently at his head. “Possible location trigger, tied in with your
surname, with Kate’s, your mom’s. I doubt very much Kes expected
anything else, but it must have been one big bonus for him when you
two got together. And I’m going to need the name of the man who
recommended Jack to you.”

“But Martin
doesn’t know me....” The anger was there. “Martin looked right
through me at the nightclub, when we met. He always looks right
through me. There was no trigger with Jack when we met.”

“It’s why
everything else was brought into play. But that changed.” He almost
said it, how it changed with taking Elena. Some things they didn’t
need to know. Kes would have carried on his accidental mark, so all
taking Elena did was force him to play his hand more overtly.
“Since you’ve met, Kes has been trying to push Martin to a specific
point, mostly using your surname, his mother, even April Leamore,
the nurse from Jack’s past. Even Jack’s time in the MC psychiatric
unit has been pushing for memories, to see what triggers Martin.
He’s needed his mark on Martin to remain unseen.”

“Why now?” That
came from Jack. He looked at Gray. “If Martin saw the codes years
ago... why wait until now?”

It was a good
question, and one Gray had no answer for. He looked back at Jan.
“Jack’s calmed too much lately. And if the triggers to his past
aren’t working, then Kes is going to start pushing through with
people from the present... with Sam, with Greg, with—”

Jack
eased to his feet, maybe seeing Greg there for the first time.
“They’ve threatened you?” He was back with Gray. “Kes
threatened
him
?”

“It’s why he’s
here, Jack,” Trace said gently. “Gray brought him in under
protection.”

“Jack, it’s
okay, I’ve been here since last night, son.”

“Stop.” Jan
snarled into the arms across his knees. “This never fucking
stops.”

“Jan...” With a
level of finger on Greg to keep him there, Jack came over and
crouched down. “Jan, I’m sorry. So fucking sorry, soft lad. So
fucking—”

Jan eased to
his feet and pulled Jack up, in close. “I don’t regret it, Jack.
Not one moment, not one fucking breath,” he whispered heatedly.
“Life screws up no matter where we are, who we’re with...” He
seemed to crush his grip around Jack. “And I’d rather have this one
year of agony over never having held you two than living
alone.”

Jack held on.
“Christ, baby,” he whispered to Jan. “Head fucks. One last head
fuck. Hold on for me, please.” And he looked down at Gray when he
said that.

Gray eased to
his feet. A lift of Jack’s jaw let him see a mirror of Jan’s broken
grief, and he brushed a few tears away with the back of his
hand.

“I can’t let
them do this anymore.” Jack’s face creased. “Not Jan, Gray,
please... not you, not my old man, not Steve, not... Sam. Jesus
Christ... Sam. He’s just a fucking kid. He can’t be touched.”

Jack tugged him
in. “You let Kes have Martin. Let him fucking tear that bastard to
pieces for what he’s done, what they’re doing.” He nuzzled in
close. “But you know he’s not good enough to finish this, Gray. Not
on his own. So you do what you need to get at those codes; you use
that bastard. You use him because he wouldn’t think twice about
carving out his name on you with his knife.”

Gray bit back
his sickness.

“Too close to
home, mukka,” breathed Jack. “Too fucking close to home.” He pulled
Jan in close.

Gray crushed an
arm around Jan, needing his contact, needing to feel him react to
the hold, say that this was okay.

“Whatever it
takes now, Gray,” whispered Jan in his ear. “I’m not going
anywhere. You know that. No matter what happens, I’m here to
stay.”

Gray closed his
eyes. “One last fall, stunner.” He kissed at Jack’s head, then
Jan’s. “One last fucking fall....”

Jack nodded,
then broke away and went over to Greg. Cupping his face, he rested
his head against Greg’s. “Sorry.” He shifted in so close. “For
being an asshole.” He slipped his arm around Greg’s neck. “For
letting her win.”

Greg nearly
broke him in two with how rough he returned Jack’s hold. “She lost,
son. She lost everything that’s important in this world; she lost
us.”

Jack pushed him
away a touch. “She lost you. And I am sorry,” he said more
forcibly, making sure Greg didn’t look away. “For letting her win
and forgetting to keep to my promise of how when I woke in
hospital, I never did keep to telling you how much you damn well
mean to me.” He gripped on tight again to his neck. “Because fuck
knows you do, you always have. Just... I can’t have you there for
this, Dad. I can’t see you bruised again for this.”

Greg nodded,
then buried his head in Jack’s throat. “I’m here for you, lad. And
that goes for anyone you choose to lie down with, you understand
that, okay?”

Jack nodded,
then glanced back, just briefly. As he turned back to Greg,
whatever he whispered was purely for his father, and the grief
there nearly had Gray going over and breaking it up.

Because it
looked like a damn good-bye to him.

Gray chose the
hall. Two hours later everything was there that needed to be. An
action plan had been drawn, with Gray calling Craig to get his
professional opinion. Craig had refused at first, then agreed when
Sam’s photo had been received. He said he needed to be there for
safety’s sake, and had called in a few environmental changes to the
hall. Trace, with the help of Dare and Gabe, had implemented them
before Trace had joined them in the bedroom.

A flat screen
TV and DVD combo now sat screwed high on one of the long walls, out
of reach and behind a plastic screen for protection against
anything thrown against it. The main hall itself never offered much
distraction other than a stereo that Jack liked to use when he was
in the mood for pissing about over running through his kata, and a
drink’s cabinet and sofa where Jan usually sat reading. Sometimes
tables and chairs were put out for various functions, but now
everything was cleared, leaving just the hardwood floor.

Craig was off
over by the main hall door, resting back against it again and
looking as deliberately distant as possible as he kept a watch on
the black case at his own feet.

The first time
Gray had broken Jack down, Jack had come back from the fall having
been stripped naked, left at his father’s feet, with a dislocated
shoulder and burns to his arm.

The bastard in
Gray had broken Martin, but he’d done it to stop Jack’s disorders
from being exploited, to stop Jack falling into Martin and
assaulting Greg. To stop him being shaped into Cutter and
disfiguring young kids with a knife.

But Jack as a
teen was nothing compared to Jack as an adult, and from his talk
with Halliday on Jack’s sectioning, Gray only needed one thing.

Taking the DVD
over to the DVD player, he used the stepladder to insert it into
the TV combi.

Gabe waited for
him to step down, then removed the ladder from the hall. Dare stood
next to Jan, and Gray wiped a hand over his mouth to bite back
sickness with how still Jan stood. Dare kept a close watch on him,
and as Jan frowned over, he seemed to almost be looking at Vince
and all the threat he’d offered to Jack. Was that what he was now?
A threat? Gabe came back in and kept quiet watch with Trace over by
the guarded TV/DVD combi.

Nobody spoke,
leaving Jack just a few feet away, glancing up at the screen.

“I know this
one, right?” he said, and that shivering had already taken hold.
“Popcorn not advised? Or sharp knives and porcelain mugs?”

Gray had the
remote in his hand and he glanced over at Craig. “Yeah, you know
this one, stunner.” Halliday’s report had said Jack’s memories were
triggered with the video of Steve back at the party with Cutter,
when he was in his teens. But there was one video he hadn’t been
able to watch in the psychiatric unit; one that, when he’d first
seen it, caused him to black out and break Ed’s hand with a
baseball bat, then destroy half of Gray’s gallery as—