Backlash

by Jack L. Pyke

  Jack looked at the far corner, where Jan had sat curled up amongst the broken debris of the bedroom.

  “Yeah,” Gray said in a soft tone. “And when I don’t touch you last night, what then?”

  Jack stayed quiet, although Martin was there in his eyes.

  Gray nodded. “I’m a trigger for you at the moment.”

  “So... so...” Panic tore at Jack. “We go back through Halliday... or the MC. We use another Dom.”

  “Why did you resign from the MC, Jack?”

  “Because... because....” It still killed a part of Gray to see him stumble here.

  Gray rested his head against Jack’s. “Because the MC has played psychological games with you, the right way, for years. Yet Vince skewed your perceptions; the lines blurred between what you know is MC BDSM and Vince’s psychological reconditioning and rape. You knew if you went back to the MC, there would be the fear of triggering. That’s why you resigned.”

  Anger fought for control now, but it was still let loose on the stray runaway tear. “I trust the MC to fuck about with my mind and body; I have done for years, Gray.” He swore under his breath. “They’re as much a part of me as you are; they’re as good as bloody you are because you’ve trained a good majority of them. We both have—”

  “So the issues lie here.” Gray brushed a thumb against Jack’s forehead, still keeping his own eyes shut. “In what you think ties you to the MC, to me, to what Vince did.”

  “You’re nothing like Vince.”

  “Shush, easy, stunner.” Gray cupped Jack’s face. “All we’re doing here is acknowledging fears and working with them, nothing more,” he added quietly. “Remember Gabe Hunter?”

  Gray caught Jack’s frown. “From over in America? When we had that two-week break? One of Trace’s ex-Diadem Doms.”

  Gray nodded. “He was the last Dom you evaluated outside of the MC. He was the last Dom you worked with before Vince.”

  “Yeah.” Life seemed to drain from Jack at the repeated mention of Vince’s name. “Gabe would have made a damn good MC Dom.”

  Gray managed a smile. “Focusing on stylistics and application... why?”

  “Because no matter how much I pushed him, Gabe never broke his rule of only fucking his own sub, Dare. He’ll push any sub’s BDSM limits in a scene, but he won’t fuck them.” Jack found a smile too. “He’d have been kicked out of the MC for allowing a sub to change his signature mark as a Dom.”

  “You remember,” said Gray.

  “Could hardly forget David and his Goliath of a sub. Why?”

  “Because that triggering works on an unconscious level with you, especially under my touch, and I need someone here to not only keep you safe for the next week, but also to help... here.” He swiped gently at Jack’s head. “And I need to focus on work without you walking, with knowing you and Jan can hold on to each other without the threat of Martin.”

  Jack seemed to catch up. “You’ve already made the call to contract Gabe. You’re working on how that unconscious level won’t feel threatened and—”

  “Trigger,” Gray said. “Gabe will look at getting you near a pair of handcuffs without—”

  “Hitting out?” said Jack, and he rested cheek-to-cheek with him. “Shouldn’t be anyone but you... Jan. Please, mukka.”

  Gray kissed his lips. He knew Jack when he was saying no because he’d had enough, but he also knew Jack when he was saying no because he was scared and needed to hear this was okay as an option. “It’s about getting your mind associated to BDSM in the right way, and that just means taking away certain triggers. State of mind is still skewed with you, Jack, but with Gabe being the most recent Dom, a good non-MC Dom with a signature mark of no penetration with clients, trust is there, and remembered.”

  “Does he know about Martin? About triggering? What he’s setting himself up for?”

  “Trace is going to tell him. I’ve already run it by Trace. I’d like Darrek here, too, for Jan.”

  “Goliath?” Jack found a ghost of a smile. He scratched distractedly at his head. “You spoken to Jan about this?”

  “I have, yes. After I got back last night.”

  Jack paled a little. “How’d he take it?”

  “He took a swim. A hard one.” Gray wanted to mention the drop of head at the mention of Martin, and Jack somehow seemed to sense it with how he looked away now.

  “Okay,” said Jack. “It’ll be damn good to have Goliath here for Jan too. Some normality, some....” He didn’t quite finish that and things fell quiet for a moment.

  “I’d like Halliday’s input on the psychological strain too.” Gray searched Jack’s eyes. “Small steps,” he said gently. “If at any time you cry no, or I see your body cry no, it stops. I said the same to Jan, and I’ll ask you the same thing as I did him. Yes or no?”

  “What’s got you scared, mukka?”

  Gray rested his head against Jack’s and buried the image on the phone. “Just work. Nothing more.”

  Jack’s exhale was long, hard. “Okay. You tell me when I need to know. You....” He shifted uncomfortably. “What about you, mukka? Gabe will touch. Are you okay with Gabe’s touch on me? Because if you say no, this stops now and we find another way.”

  It shouldn’t have caught Gray off guard, but the question did. And the falter in not answering was there as Jack came in, arms wrapping around Gray’s neck.

  “Trust those instincts, mukka,” murmured Jack. “Gabe’s a damn good Dom; you wouldn’t let him close otherwise.” Gray felt a breath brush his ear. “You just damn well promise me that you’ll call the MC,” he heard snarled heatedly in his ear. “You don’t lose that.”

  Gray ran his hands down Jack’s back and finished by dusting a touch over the fine curves to his ass. “I have other priorities at the moment, stunner. The only ones that really matter. But you have my word I will, eventually.”

  “You hear that sound?” Jack gave a shaky sigh. “It’s the sound of a thousand or so trainee Doms suddenly high-tailing it back home crying mum.”

  Giving a soft smile, Gray looked back at the door. “Go get your head straight and take some time with Jan.” He wanted to keep life as normal as possible for them both. “I’ve got time to cook you lot breakfast. Craig’s still here.”

  Gray pulled away. As he tugged on a jumper, he glanced back to see Jack getting dressed.

  “You’re cooking? Use your firearm, it’s quicker.” Jack winked over, and Gray raised a brow as he gave Jack the once over.

  “I’m...” Jack pulled on some trainers. “I’m off for a jog first, okay maybe a fast walk, or maybe just a slow amble with a stick. A run will fucking kill me with how I’ve been slacking off, eating full English breakfasts.”

  “So you’re running away instead of walking now?”

  Jack ran a hand through his hair, keeping that got out of bed look. “Just for a few minutes,” he replied. “Find the courage to face him and all that bollocks. I know how much that shit last night scared him. He’s not here now.”

  Take care of Jack and Jan.... “Just keep the run within the perimeter. No going outside the gates.”

  “Electronic tag my ass again. I know you want to.”

  Gray didn’t smile. If he could have tagged him, he would.

  “Fuck.” Jack started patting himself down. “My MP3 music thing’s in Jan’s Merc. I’m grabbing that first.” He headed for the door. “Need to work up an appetite and strong stomach if you’re cooking, mukka.”

  “Fuck off, Jack.” Gray managed to snort a smile and finished getting dressed as Jack left. A wash took care of the rest of the tiredness and a call to Ray eased the worry of Jack being outside, even though within the perimeter.

  That just left Andrews and if he’d traced Kes’s name.

  But more it left Jan and why he’d avoided Jack all this morning.

  Chapter 20

  Puncture Wounds

  “There’s nothing from the MI5 database on his name.”

  Gr
ay kept his voice low as he listened to Andrews and headed down the staircase. “Understood. Run Kes by those on street level. See what they’ve heard.” Gray cast a look over at the way up into the west wing. He hadn’t found Jan yet, or Craig, and the west wing was his next stop.

  “On those text messages last night, this Kes mentioned that we might only have a partial code list? How did he know 639 is a... witness?” said Andrews. Gray hadn’t shown him the messages, just mostly paraphrased them for Jan’s sake over the images.

  “Unknown. But the hint is there that we have access to two more codes.”

  “I’ll run a check through 639’s property, see if anything was missed. What about the connections to 639? Their properties?”

  Elena had watched Jack and Jan’s rape from Greg’s home too. That’s where most of her hardware had been taken from. “I’ll handle the connections.” The property would be empty with Greg at work today, and it wouldn’t take too much to gain access. “Hold any communication until I reach the office.”

  “Will do.”

  Gray cut the call as he made it to the west wing staircase, but paused as a beep on his phone let him know that Ray hadn’t spotted Jack outside yet. Gray frowned and looked around, knowing Jack should have been on his jog by now.

  That dread was still there: that drop of life and waiting for it to hit the floor and splinter as Jack... walked.

  His heart slowed as he changed direction and made it down into the reception hall. With his back to him, Jack stood inside the closet, where Ed hung the coats.

  “Not quite ready to run, then, yet, stunner?”

  Gray stilled. Jack looked down at something he held in his hands. Palm closed, the outline of his fist shaped something that whitened his knuckles. And stare... Jack did nothing but stare down, not moving, barely breathing.

  Gray looked at his watch.

  Twenty minutes. That’s how long it had taken him to try and find Jan and talk to Andrews. Twenty....

  Keeping his footfalls light, Gray went over and eased up close to Jack. Giving a sigh, he rested his head against the back of Jack’s. “You here with me, stunner?”

  “Always.” That was spoken so clearly, with no traces of slurred speech or just coming out of what most would see as a daydream. “Fuck...” came the quiet mumble.

  “Jack?”

  Gray got a glance back, and something in his eyes had his world falling. He’d seen this ghost-look only twice: once when Jack had been forced to his father’s feet, when Martin’s artwork on his father’s body was witnessed; then when Gray had found the code to Mark Shaw’s porn site uploads, showing Jack fucked by Cutter. That and what followed had sliced through Jack a hundred times over.

  Whatever he held looked set to do the same.

  Gray eased a touch around his wrist, more than a quiet ask now to see what he held. “What...?”

  Jack loosened his grip and Gray looked down, frowning.

  The small vial of clear liquid had a white label wrapped around it, and out of the 100ml of heroin, roughly three quarters of its contents were missing. The label suggested a source that had access to a hospital, and the cap had been removed, revealing signs that a needle had been used to—

  “Heroin?” Gray gripped Jack’s wrist. “You’re fucking using—” Then he noticed whose coat had been rummaged through, whose keys Jack had needed to find his MP3 player, and Gray took a step back, now nearly out of the closet.

  “Tired,” said Jack, following him. “He’s just been tired lately.” Gray looked away from the heroin long enough to see the confusion he heard. “Forgetting those little details, a little lively like with us at the flat last night, no interest in the party, not really into sex... eating... scared... but...” Jack shrugged, then a tear went with it. “But he was coping. He’s... he’s always been coping. Right? I kept asking him if he was coping.”

  Jack looked down at the heroin, but his hand dejectedly fell to his side. “How long?” he mumbled quietly, finding Gray again. “How long, mukka? Since that shit last night with Martin? Since that shit last night after I touched him?” Jack let out a cry and thumped the wall. “He needed to take this shit in order to touch me in the fucking hall a week back? To come and pick me up from the psych unit a month ago? Fuck, he’d looked so thin even back then.”

  “Easy...” Gray pulled him in close, at the same time slipping the vial from Jack’s hand back into the pocket left exposed and ruffled through.

  Jack held on tight enough to hurt, his breath hot on Gray’s neck. “He hasn’t wanted to undress, and when he did, he hid the crease of his arms. Fuck, Gray. When we touched him, he hid his arms underneath the pillows, and when he got undressed in the hall, he folded his arms. Did he shoot before he came home? He looked so full of life. Fucking buzzing.”

  As Gray let Jan’s jacket find a natural setting in the closet, the details were already running fast through Gray’s mind, the loss of memory over the painting details, needing to take the jacket when they went to go and find Martin, the fear on Jan’s face sitting in the Merc, not wanting to go in and face Jack with the possibility of Martin being there. Then Jan had done just that after Gray had left him alone and—

  “No judgement, Jack,” he said as he tugged Jack out of the closet and closed the door. Jack stifled a groan, pulling Gray in closer.

  “He was raped repeatedly next to me, Gray. I won’t fucking judge him for hurting. I just... just... I didn’t know. I didn’t fucking see it. Jan... he’s been... Jan, maybe a little dulled in colour, but... Jan. And I didn’t see the marks.” It wasn’t anger at Jan, just anger at himself. “I should have looked at him properly from the start.”

  Gray closed his eyes. It brought in questions over Jan being a user prior to the rape, but he couldn’t see it. In his gut instinct, he couldn’t see it. And that hit worse. Gray knew where Jack’s head was going with this. Did Jan start using after the rape, or after hearing when Jack was to be released from the psychiatric unit? Making which worse for Jan: the rape, Jack—or Martin?

  “He loves you, stunner.”

  “Under his own steam or through this shit?” Jack suddenly snarled and pushed away, but Gray pulled him back, knowing he couldn’t risk letting Jack get near Jan on the back of Martin. “You find out who’s been feeding it,” snarled Jack. “Who’s been fucking taking his money when he should have been left to heal alone, to lie with us—”

  Gray rubbed a hand at Jack’s shoulder to stop the hurt. “Easy.”

  “What the fuck do I do, Gray?” Jack held out his hand, more questioning where the vial had gone. “How the fuck do I help him when I’m what’s making him cry out now?”

  “You do nothing but give Jan the space to come and talk,” said Gray. “Let him come to you.”

  “No,” hissed Jack. “Like fuck is this the time to play mind games.”

  “Like fuck is this the time for you to confront him over this after last night, Jack.” That jolted him slightly.

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “I know,” Gray soothed, but he held Jack’s hand up to show the shaking going on. “Let him come to you, Jack. No games.” It wouldn’t take long to find out who Jan’s dealer was. He’d only been here, work, and at his mother’s. Only Jan hadn’t seen his mother for two weeks now, and this vial wouldn’t last a user that long. His source had to be coming from work. But as Gray went to shift, the door opened next to Jack, and Jan came in, rubbing the autumn wind out of his hair. Craig followed him in a moment later, and Jan lost the ease in his smile as he saw Gray and Jack, more so with how close they stood to the closet door.

  “Hey.” Jan paused for a minute, then came over. “Everything okay?” His look switched between them, to the door.

  “Jack needs a run and is after his MP3 player.” Gray reached for the closet door. “Just needs your keys to get it.”

  “Here.” Jan slipped in, throwing a small smile back to Gray. “I’ll get it for you.” He came out a moment later with his car keys and a jack
et for Gray. “I didn’t think you were going in today?”

  There was a shimmer of worry there, a shift to go back over by Craig.

  “Just for a few hours, nothing more.”

  Jan nodded a little, then kissed lightly at Jack’s cheek. Jack almost chased it, turning to brush lip against lip, but Jan moved away, leaving Jack frowning at his ghost. “Good to see you awake, Jack.”

  Jack went to speak, but Jan looked over at Gray, at the jacket Gray slipped on. “When... when will you be back?”

  Gray could have been looking at the Jan he’d met over a year ago. That shy, worried smile, hands going in jean pockets and ready to let his heart slip off his sleeve, all so he could offer it over with a small “please, don’t break me” sign in the middle.

  Somewhere along the line, you fell in love with him, didn’t you?

  Gray looked down at his feet.

  Talk to him, you bastard. He’s still there crawling around in the darkness.

  He looked up, and Craig shifted back, nearly knocking the display case over that sat close to the door, and breaking a little of the tension as Jan bit back a small smile. Gray raised a brow seeing Craig give a yelp and try to steady the case as he looked over.

  “Sorry... sorry,” said Craig, his Hulk-bulk trying to steady a case that homed a very rare Japanese katana. “Sorry.”

  Gray offered a doesn’t matter smile over, but it didn’t seem to help things much as Craig knocked the display case again. It had been the one that Jack had pushed over in the reception hall just before Gray had gone to interview Jack’s mother, and the case was whimpering under the why me tag it seemed to have acquired.

  “Sorry.” Craig. Again.

  “Don’t sweat it,” said Gray, although a bead of sweat had already escaped free from Craig’s forehead and ran off with a firm cry of You’re on your own here, mate. Jan was next to Craig then, offering another small laugh as he helped him back away from the case.