Don't... 04 Backlash (53 page)

Gray winced as
a grip to his hair forced his lips up to meet Martin’s and the kiss
was hard, done to bleed. “No promises,” he heard breathed.
“Whatever you did to get me here, it hurt him. I can feel him
looking away from you.”

“No,” said
Gray. “I know stunner, he’s always right here with me.” Gray
returned the kiss, softer... gentler.

Martin
pulled away. “He’s mine, Welsh.” A tear fell as Martin’s hand
brushed Gray’s. “Keep those bed sheets warm for me. I promise, one
of these days, I’ll fuck you over, and it’ll be—” Such a wicked
smile shone through hurt. “—so fucking
stunning
.”

Martin pressed
down, forcing Gray’s touch on the device to press the button. The
fight was there against the strong sedative filling his system, but
Gray held on and caught Martin as he started to fade, pressing his
body in close as the back of Martin’s head found the glass mirror.
Gray kissed his cheek as he saw the light in his eyes start to
fade, because even as he did start to fade, he refused to lean on
Gray.

“Yeah,” Gray
said quietly. “Best kind of hurt from both of you.”

Trace heard the
knock on the Oval door, and life seemed to still for a moment as
everyone went quiet. It came again a moment later, four knocks on
the door, quiet, barely audible, and earning a hand against his
lips off Jan as Greg went to speak.

Three knocks
meant that Martin was with Gray, the fourth knock came, and that
meant....

Jan was there,
tugging the key out of Trace’s pants, then forcing it into the
lock. He stepped back as the door came open, then Jan was up
against Gray, hands cupping his face as he kissed his lips.
Hard.

“You okay?” Jan
started to rummage at Gray’s suit, hands shaking like hell. Gray
pulled him back in, head going into the curve of Jan’s throat.

Jan startled
for a moment and a groan came from Greg.

“Gray, there’s
blood on your shirt. Are you... is Jack,” said Jan. “Where’s Jack?
Is he okay?”

Gray kissed at
Jan’s lips but Trace caught how badly Gray shook, also the heavy
sadness weighing his shoulders down. “Bedroom,” said Gray. Jan
stilled, then as he went to shift past, Gray caught his arm,
stopping him. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Greg was there,
his gaze asking the same question, and Gabe went over, no doubt
concerned that the old man would finally give up and crumple in on
himself.

“There’s no
guarantee it will be Jack when he wakes. Craig needs to see him. So
too does Halliday.”

Jan’s hands
went to his head. “Get him back, Gray. Please.”

Gray tugged Jan
to one side as Craig eased past and gave him a nod.

“I know,” he
said to Jan. “This, it’s for Craig to assess. Greg too. He knows
Martin’s games better than most.”

Greg edged past
Jan, stopping just to ease a stroke down Jan’s back and offer a
smile to Gray.

“Ed.” Gray
waved his grandfather over. “Craig is going to need a few things.
Martin took a superficial gunshot wound to his shoulder.”

“What?” Jan
seemed to shake it off. “I’ll go with you,” he said to Ed, already
taking over from Gray.

“You okay?”
Gray stopped Jan before he left. “I mean... you coping?”

He still looked
pale, that cold, damp sweat touching his forehead, but his eyes
were more focused than they had been in days. Not much, but a
little.

“I’ll get
there.” Jan came back in, kissing at Gray’s lips. “And we’ll damn
well hold Martin down and take care of him until Jack gets there
with us too.” Then Jan was pulling out his phone and taking Ed with
him as he called up to Craig, getting a list of supplies that he
might need.

“Coffee?” Gabe
gave him an easy smile.

“Whiskey,
double,” said Gray, and Gabe waved Dare over. The weight to Dare’s
hand touched Gray’s shoulder before they both left. That left
Trace, and he went over and pulled Gray close.

“You okay?”

He felt Gray’s
shake of head, and Trace kissed his cheek. “Kes?”

Gray eased
back. “It’ll come.” But he sounded so tired with it.

Trace risked a
smile. “Then can I suggest something?”

“Sure.”

“Shower. As
soon as possible.”

Gray gave a
sniff at his jacket, then winced. He started to take it off as he
turned away. Trace took it for him, followed by his shirt and tie.
The drop of his shoulders said Gray had so much to say, but it
would be to Jan first, when... if Jack was back on his feet. Martin
would no doubt try and hold on as long as possible, but the
patience was there. It had always been there from Gray’s end yet
for the first time, in a long time, that quiet strength to face it
was back in the fine lines across his back. He’d had time to heal,
now they all just needed the space.

“I still have
that plane booked for tomorrow.”

Gray looked
back.

“I was thinking
it was time to head home with the kids.”

Gray went to
say something, changed his mind, then came back over. His kiss was
a deep thank you, and when he broke away, a smile touched his
lips.

“Gabe won’t
accept the contract money,” he said to Trace, and Trace smirked.
“You find a way to make sure he does, okay?”

“You know you
had a go at Jan not so long ago because of fraud and moving money
about to look like it came from elsewhere.”

“Jan’s a
gentleman. I’m—”

“A bastard,
yeah, and I’m not going to ask who died to get you managing a
smile. But are you a bastard who’s glad it’s nearly over?”

Gray took a
long sigh. “Not yet.” He patted Trace’s abs. “One last night for
you guys, let’s make it good, eh?”

“Shower,
whiskey, food, then bed?

“Fuck yes.”
Gray chuckled. “We’re getting old, my friend.”

“Speak for
yourself; I can fit in at least another whiskey into that lot.”
Gray shook his head, but the ease in his eyes looked a little
better. But only a little, something behind that smile said it
wasn’t over yet.

A Few Months
Later

It had been a
while since Trace had left, and the low chatter and pop of a
champagne cork felt odd.

Christmas Eve
had been spent at the manor, with Greg and Jan’s mother there to
keep an eye on Jan. Over the past few weeks, Jan lost his job, but
only partly due to his detox. Nothing was officially noted on paper
about his drug use, not with how the dealer had come from
management, so Gray had made sure Jan’s addiction remained
unmentioned. It kept his CV clean, with no convictions, and it also
allowed Gray to pull a few strings and get Jan into the MC on the
accounts roster. Jan mumbled that his history with fraud shouldn’t
let him work within the MC, but too much of Jack had rubbed off on
Jan when he’d added how the MC was “Government funded, and fucking
over people financially comes with the job.” Gray would have said
something, but this was Jan.

Jan had grown
his hair a little longer, not enough to run with the rogue, but
enough to say he’d found himself more. Jan’s villa had been sold,
with him fitting into the manor as naturally as daylight, easing
the shadows away from most corners, including those still clinging
to him.

Christmas had
crept up on all of them, and they’d made the quiet decision to not
get gifts and mark it in any way except for an informal Christmas
dinner. Going over to the dining table now, Gray made Jan his first
stop, giving a discreet brush of hand down his arm before he
reached over and took the champagne off Ed. He got a look up from
soft brown eyes, then a smile touched his lips. Kate sat next to
Jan and her glass was filled first, with a promise that she was
welcome to stay another night if she needed. Greg sat opposite, and
Gray took care of him next. Talk was mostly on the card night Ed
had planned with Greg, and Jan joined in with the occasional
chuckle. Ed sipped at a bourbon, and Gray nodded over before
picking up two bottles of beer.

He’d always
been with Jack on how beer sometimes just tasted better.

Dinner was
already served, steaming the dining room as it fought a battle with
the Christmas sweet selection that Ed had prepared. Feeling the
cool of the two beer bottles under his touch, Gray went over to the
far wall and offered one down. “Table. Eat at it.”

The scratch of
knife and fork on plate and the soft chatter fell quiet behind Gray
as he waited for an answer.

“Make me.” Sat
on the floor, up against the wall, Martin gave a sniff. He still
wore his electronic tag and it was visible around his ankle. He
wore no shoes, no socks, and where Jack would have opted for suit
trousers and V-shirt around Christmas day, Martin wore loose
jogging bottoms, nothing else. “Trust me, sitting me next to Pops
and all the Christmas love over there would... really push me to
find one hundred and one ways to fuck someone over with the turkey
wishbone.”

Greg almost
looked over, his head shifting slightly to glance back, but Kate
reached over, stroking gently at his hand.

Martin took the
beer, but grunted when he felt around the bottle and unscrewed the
lid. “Plastic?”

Gray almost
smiled. “Jack earned his right to handle sharp objects.
You’re—”

“On Mickey
Mouse wear. No slash-fest sessions.” Martin took a swig. “And look,
no alcohol content. Jesus fucking Christ... just give me the
wishbone, please. Let me bleed this fucked-up bollocks out.”

Gray left it
there and headed back over to the dining table. After he took his
seat, they started their meal. Jan had gained a lot of colour over
the past few weeks, and although the methadone still kept stock in
the en suite, and the odd snap of temper cropped up, he ate
healthily now. Ed usually only served the main meat for Christmas,
but Jan had mentioned that he was used to an offer of beef, too, so
Ed had quietly gone out of his way to provide both.

“Sexy.” Martin
kept his smirk as he watched Jan tackle the meat. “You think Jack’s
missing that mouth?”

Giving Martin a
hard look, Jan fell quiet, and Ed gave Gray a quick glance as Greg
looked back for the first time.

“Just before
Jack fell, he told me to tell you something, Martin,” he said in a
flat tone. “Do you want to know what he said?”

Martin seemed
to unconsciously follow Jan’s quiet, his look focused entirely on
Jan.

“You’re
welcome, Mart.”

Martin frowned
at Greg as Jan offered such a lonely smile, but one that held a lot
of knowledge with it. Not seeming to understand, Martin pushed up,
knocking his beer over.

“Yeah, fuck
this shit,” mumbled Martin.

After throwing
the napkin on the dining table and brushing a hand against Jan’s,
Gray was up and after Martin as he left the dining hall.

Gray caught up
with him as Martin slammed the door open to the Oval. They’d
shifted a bed inside and removed nearly everything else. A flat
screen TV had protective cover high on the wall, the bed was bolted
to the floor, and a code via an access panel was the only way in or
out through the door.

Gray had
promised Jack that there was time and room to fall, that he’d wake
up here. And if it took his last breath, Gray kept Martin close for
that one promise. Halliday was back to weekly visits, Craig now
more of a permanent fixture than Ed, and many a night came with
sedatives to keep Martin playing by the rules. He couldn’t go
beyond the manor’s perimeter, not with the tag, and it came with
the extra threat that if Martin got too close to Jan....

“
Why the
fuck did he say
you’re welcome
?” Martin slammed his back against the wall. Gray frowned
as he took a step closer. This was something different. This wasn’t
dismissive aggression, it wasn’t frustrations with being
controlled, this was...