Don't... 04 Backlash (48 page)

“Keys to the
Merc are in my top pocket, Martin.”

“Fuh—” Hands
stopped their play, now resting on Gray’s hips as a hard sigh was
given, the heat of breath still pressing close on his neck. “You
changed that too, huh?”

“Years ago, you
asshole.”

Martin gave a
shrug, then a chuckle. “Worth a grope or two away from the
maddening crowds, though, right? You’ve picked up a few friends
too. How the fuck did you manage that without supervision via a
court order, cage, and prodding stick?”

A shove at
Martin’s shoulder sent him back a pace, then Gray twisted him back
to the wall, his firearm withdrew and pressed into his
forehead.

That dead look
was back in Martin’s eyes. “Bet you’d like that,” he said quietly,
and he came in, pressing harder against the barrel of the gun and
forcing the muscles in Gray’s arm to counterbalance the pressure.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked with my head. I mean, my
knifing you was purely self-defence, if you evaluate the logic.
Burn... burn or self-heal, baby....” Another shift, this time a
lick came at the barrel, then a tongue played around it before his
head tilted up and the barrel slipped over his jaw, down his
throat.

“
Jack’s
tone, when he safe words,” Gray said quietly. He tilted the gun,
now controlling the drag of its tip across Martin’s throat. “You
asked for my Merc, you weren’t saying
please, Sir, stop
.”

“
Would
you like me to say
please, Sir, stop
?”

Gray eased the
gun gently along Martin’s lips, back down to his jaw. “You wouldn’t
mean it.”

Martin shifted,
allowing the gun more room to play. “And wouldn’t you rough-fuck me
more, knowing it.” Martin kissed at Gray’s hand, then licked at the
fingers pressed against the trigger. “Pull it....”

Martin
traced a touch down his own body, sneaking under his T-shirt and
playing along tanned abs. “
Pull
it.”

Gray let the
barrel dig into the tender skin below his jaw, forcing his gaze up
and....

Click
.

Martin
flinched, eyes widening slightly at the sound of an empty chamber.
Gray smiled, loving the reaction. “Next one won’t warn. Give me the
codes you saw.”

“Fuck.” said
Martin, and he dragged a harder touch along his abs, marking the
skin. “Almost came then.” All humour failed as he held out a hand,
his look shifting to Gray’s throat for a moment. “Keys.”

“Why? Somewhere
you need to be?” Gray dug the gun a little further leaving a
depression in the skin.

“
Oh come
on.” Martin found him. “You didn’t give me all that information to
coat your walls with my... rather stunning grey matter.” He made a
point of keeping a finger on the barrel as he pushed it away.
“You’re looking for a little help, Welsh. Go on, say it.
Please... Sir, help
me
.”

Gray kicked at
the back of his knees, sending Martin down. As he hit the floor, he
straddled Martin, pinning his arms still with pressure from his
knees. A grab of hair forced Martin’s head to the side, then Gray
withdrew his lighter and flicked the flame into life.

“Uncle,” Gray
said softly. “Do you remember how this game goes?”

Martin hissed
and tried to turn his head. Gray brought it too close for comfort
against his throat.

“You’ll fucking
burn him, Welsh.”

“Not him,” said
Gray. “You.” He took the flame close again and watched how Martin
struggled to get free. “He hides, Martin. Mostly because of me,
from me.” Again he took the flame closer, pulling away only when
Martin cried out. The look that settled in Martin’s eyes had him
bringing it back and holding it there for a second longer than he
should.

“Yeah, you like
it too.” Gray came down close to Martin’s ear, then bit gently at
it. “But you know what...?” He smiled against the taste of skin. “I
like it more.”

“Yeah. I
remember you from Wales.”

Gray shivered,
and the bite at Martin’s throat came harder, enough to bruise.
“Either you focus me on Kes,” he whispered, “or I’ll find new ways
to make you burn.”

“And hurt Jack
in the process?”

Gray briefly
closed his eyes. “I’ll take his last breath if it comes to the
choice. And guess how I’d make damn sure he wasn’t at home so he
doesn’t feel any hurt or see it?”

Martin
relaxed completely. “You offer to hold me in the best moments in a
man’s life.” That smile creeping back in. “First fuck... the final
kiss. No wonder Jack cries in the shadows, all alone.” He tried to
struggle and Gray focused his attention with a grip that nearly
tore hair from scalp. “And as much as I’m... getting a hard-on with
this
fuck someone
over
side of
yours—which, by the way, how come I don’t get a badge to go with my
psychotic tendencies?— I won’t remember a thing until I see that
garage again. I didn’t keep a hard copy of the codes.”

“You’re
lying.”

“Maybe. Do you
really have the time for another torture session?”

Gray eased off
a touch, at least letting the pain level lower in Martin’s
eyes.

“There we go,”
said Martin. “Common ground. So, let’s face the balls of the issue
here. I don’t have a photographic memory, but it’s, well, almost
seems like yesterday that I was there, so to speak.” He winked.
“Jack really should let me out more. For now, I need something to
jog my memory.”

The look in his
eyes called bullshit on that, and it made Gray force a cry out of
him as he brought the lighter back, this time by his cheek.

“Where I go
after I get that intel remains to be seen,” laughed Martin, a tear
running over where the burn threatened. “But I’ll get you to Kes.
Promise.”

Gray slipped
his lighter in his pocket, then reached for some handcuffs. After
slipping them on Martin, he pulled him to his feet and pushed him
through the kitchen, and into the garage. Martin tried to shift for
the Merc, but Gray made sure he found his way, face first across a
work bench. A kick at his legs had Martin opening them, and before
he could shift and cause serious damage, Gray tethered one ankle
then the other to the legs of the unit with tow straps. Martin
tried to pull up, but pressure on the back of his neck made sure he
stayed down.

He didn’t like
being tied down. He didn’t like being tied period, and Gray ran his
hand down the slip of hip and fine curve of ass that shaped the
fall of his workstation.

Martin
stilled.

“Scared?” said
Gray.

“Bored.” But
the shaking running through Gray’s touch saw damage that ran so
deep. Jack had time to deal with his; Martin was still caught in
the time slip. The hurt was there, but the anger outweighed it,
out-shivered it. “Get your fucking hands off me, Welsh fuck.”

A drawer in the
workstation had Gray’s attention, and he reached over and pulled
something out. Andrew had brought the electronic tag over last
night, one taken from the storerooms that wouldn’t be noticed
missing for a few days. After crouching down, Gray shifted the
jeans up on Martin’s leg and fastened the tag in place, making sure
the electronics worked. This one came with an extra kick, done to
Gray’s specifications. No hand-holding necessary. It was done to
make sure Martin wouldn’t stray too far from the second device Gray
held, but also because—

“Off. Get that
fuck off me.”

It still played
deep with Jack. Deep enough to unsettle Martin and give him
something else to let loose and crawl under his skin.

And that was
just fine with Gray.

“You fuck,” he
snarled. Gray eased to his feet now that he’d untied Martin’s.

“Right.” He
tugged Martin up. “How about you and me go for a long ride?” As
Gray took him over to the S-class coupe, hearing a wolf whistle off
Martin, Gray pulled his mobile phone free and thumbed in a
number.

“Andrews here,”
came the reply on the third ring.

“I need you as
shadow.” He gave him an address. “Keep close surveillance; keep out
of sight and make note of who follows.”

“Understood.”

Martin kept
quiet for the manoeuvre through the London’s midmorning traffic.
Hands were kept cuffed behind him as he sat in the passenger seat,
but his look was on the life passing them by. Or more, Gray
suspected, street names and get out routes.

They’d just
turned onto the Old Kent Road, bypassing Jack’s old terraced house
and the archway and its alley near it. Past Walworth Academy,
farther down on the left, slept Mina Road. The road itself was
shoe-box size compared to the main Old Kent Road and its three-lane
traffic. Back in Jack’s teens, it had homed mostly units and
garages. A few had been disused, or, like the one Martin had taken
Mase and his father to, used for storage of bikes and work tools
belonging to the garage owner. Now only two working buildings
remained in the thin bottleneck road that then opened up to
high-rise flats. The flats congested the bulk of the road beyond
the thin opening, pushing at each other to get some more space and
breathe in the wider context of London. The garage they needed was
on the immediate left of Mina Road with a little community hall
watching over it from the opposite side. It had been a good way
from Steve’s, but then Martin had a car that night.

He looked like
he needed one now.

“The electronic
tag has a perimeter of twenty feet. Go beyond that, a timed device
laced with enough sedative to knock out an elephant will make sure
you don’t get past twenty-one feet. Tamper with it, it’s designed
to do the same.”

Martin didn’t
shift his gaze from the window. “Fuck me, they built a Tesco on
Dunton Road. They’re bloody everywhere nowadays. Pretty shit for
Bermondsey Square Antiques Market; it’s gotta hit them hard—they
still do that? The Market?”

Gray didn’t
answer. Martin wasn’t really interested in one.

“Handy for
people littering Potters Field Park, though. Bet that fucks with
the Mayor and all those porno photo opportunities he does there...
him having to come down and mingle with the local wild life and
their eating habits.” He looked at Gray. “The Mayor is still male,
ain’t he?”

Gray shifted
gear as he bypassed Albany Road.

“No matter, I
suppose. There are enough assholes playing with politics for me to
really give a shit.”

Gray felt a
shift in his direction.

“So what were
your Christmas plans with Jack and his younger bit of fluff? You
have to order a new king size bed, now company got... interesting?
I mean, how does that work out, three guys in the bed? Who gets the
middle? What happens if he needs a slash in the middle of the
night? Does he go worm and wriggle out the bottom, or is it just a
good excuse to get his leg over one of the other two and fuck an
extra length up there before he does get to the bathroom?”

Gray counted
the yards past Shorncliffe Road.

“Which way does
the middle guy sleep? I mean, turn left he’s met with an asshole,
turn right, same again. Do you all avoid curry just in case you
choke him on... natural gas? It’s not like he can waft the covers
and turn the other cheek, right?”

The pressure on
the brake came hard, making sure Martin grunted from the seatbelt
choking his chest. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Just asking.” But the grin
was there as Gray pulled the Merc to a stop in a space opposite the
Michael’s garage. Andrews followed somewhere, but was professional
enough to stay more covert.

“What do you
remember about the night here?” Gray nodded at the garage.

Martin shifted
forward to get a better look. “Being night and all, it was
dark.”

Gray looked
across at him and Martin sighed. “Had a lot of fun with Mase behind
those main shutters there.” Painted yellow with a blue frame, the
roller doors looked wide enough to home four cars, tops. The office
sat to the left, but if it was anything like Jack’s, there’d be
space out back for locker room, dining area, restroom, not to
mention office space on the second floor.

“Would have had
some fun with his dad too, but rape ain’t my thing. Better if you
can get them to ask for the blade. Makes for more... memorable
playtime.” He was back looking at Gray. “Did you know Mase’s dad
didn’t know Mase was gay? Okay, he didn’t know his son was a
thieving little shit who fucked up over the basics of getting some
bloody keys to Jack.” A wink. “But he didn’t know his son was gay
until I fucked him in front of him.”

“After that.”
Gray already knew this.

Martin fell
quiet. “I left them there,” he said eventually. Then he went quiet
for a moment, tilting his ear as if he caught something. “On the
way out there was a noise behind me.” He frowned. “I thought it was
Mase deciding to try his luck when I’d told him to stay down.”