Backlash

by Jack L. Pyke

  Anger kicked into Jack’s gaze and Trace whistled over to Gabe. Gabe threw the keys over, but then went in close to Jack, backing him up a few paces.

  “I’ll drive you in,” said Trace.

  “No.” Jan tried to take the keys but, with Dare acting as a buffer, lost his breath halfway through, then—“You... you’re not insured to drive.”

  “I’m ex-MC with an MC Mercedes-Benz.” Trace stared Jan down until he stopped trying to take the keys. “I’m always insured here.” Or at least he hoped he was. Didn’t really matter, Jack was already making another call. As Trace made it around to the driver’s side, he got a nod from Jack that he’d no doubt set things in motion with the insurance.

  “You back here for dinner? Maybe take the afternoon off?” Jack didn’t look so sure, and Gabe whispered in his ear, winning half of Jack’s attention as Gabe tugged him back towards the manor.

  “Five months, Jack. For five months you never once asked how I was doing.” Jan got in the car and the window came down. “I’m not you, Jack: I’m not Gray’s, where everything is taken care of for me. I have to live in the real world; I have to work to eat. I get sick or hurt, I don’t get people swarming in to punch my clocking-in card. Nobody handles my work load for me. Nobody is here for me.”

  “What?” Hurt tore through Jack’s gaze and Gabe’s pull on his arm stopped him reaching for Jan. But it was how Jan doubled and gripped at his stomach that had Jack physically taking a step away. He nodded at Gabe when Gabe again whispered in his ear. Then Jack was back with Jan. “Look, love the bones off you, body and soul. You know that. So you come find me, yeah, when you get back. Even if it means you sticking Ed’s socks up your nose if you can’t stomach me lately?”

  Something washed through Jan’s eyes, something that made him shiver, bite back grief, and stay quiet.

  “You stay late,” said Jack, “I’ll still be here. Okay?”

  “Maybe,” Jan said in a muffled voice.

  Trace got in and shifted into gear. He wouldn’t call Gray at this point. He had enough on his plate. And Jack and Jan... they needed a few hours apart now. More than. But this whole shit heap over Jan’s drug abuse... that was a concern, one that had them split and Jan away from the safety of the manor. The only reason Jan wanted out was to get a supply of drugs, but he was using Jack in order to make that leap to work. That wasn’t Jan, and from Jan’s quiet, Jan knew it too, but he was caught in a vicious cycle. One that needed breaking before too much damage was done.

  Chapter 23

  Cure for the Itch

  After Trace had dropped Jan at work, the pair of brown-tan work boots and long legs, covered in blue coveralls that jutted out from underneath the Rolls Royce in Gray’s garage let him know just where Jack was. Trace went over and gave his boot a kick.

  “Can I have a word, Jacky boy.”

  “Fuck off. There’s two for you.” Jack pulled himself from under the Rolls and looked up as his wrench found the tool box.

  “Don’t you screw up the insurance messing with that?” said Trace, leaning against it as Jack got up. “I thought they had a policy against jackasses getting underneath without being a Rolls-Royce mechanic.”

  “I’m certified.” Jack unzipped his coveralls and slipped them off his shoulders, then hips. “The stickyfoot from the MC psych unit said so; I can handle plastic knives too.”

  Trace grunted a smile as Jack hung up his coveralls and came back over, tucking his T-shirt back in his jeans. The contrast between Jack’s look now and the Jack he’d seen in the photos earlier... bruised face, bleeding lip—that willingness to fade into the paleness of white sheets—was startling, and it knocked him off-pace for a moment.

  “Just don’t tell Gray.” Jack winked at him, bringing him back. “The wrench ain’t plastic.”

  Trace winced. “Secret’s safe and...” Trace tilted his head, reached over, and tugged up Jack’s T-shirt. “Are those tights you got on there, boy?”

  Jack smacked his hand away, quickly stuffing his T-shirt back into place. “Man stockings. And don’t you fucking start.”

  Trace held up his hands. “Not saying a word.”

  Jack went to say something, stopped, then looked at him to make sure. “Because they keep my bollocks warm on a cold floor, okay.” He even pointed a finger.

  “Sure.” Trace shifted his head towards the door, back in the direction of the coffee. “Mouth closed and all that shit if you can make me a coffee.”

  Jack went to start something again, then walked past, giving a hard glance as he did.

  Trace let a smile creep up as he pushed away from the Rolls and followed Jack as he headed out of the garage. “Jan got to work okay.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His head dropped a touch. “I checked with Ray. He’s sorted surveillance. Good to hear that Dare will see him at lunch. I’ve made sure security will keep watch at work and bring him home too.” Jack looked back. “Gabe’s been a bit quiet since he got here.”

  “He’s talking to Ed. Amazing what the butler witnesses, you know.”

  Jack gave him the finger and Trace nodded, needing Jack to be himself a little more before he broached what he’d come down to ask. “Tights, eh?” He couldn’t resist another tug on Jack’s T-shirt from the back. The nylon was visible just above the trouser line, clinging to Jack’s tanned and slender hips. The rest didn’t take too much imagination, and Trace gave a soft wolf whistle. “Gray like you to wear a thong too? And some high heels when the lights go down in that master bedroom of his?”

  Jack grumbled and half twisted around, smacking at Trace’s hand. “Fuck. Off.” He tucked the nylon back down, out of sight, and made sure his T-shirt rested on his hips. In the corridor a bacterial hand-wash dispenser was fastened discreetly to the wall. Hands were cleaned once, twice, and Trace gave him space when he reached for the antibacterial wash a third time.

  “You know full well Gray’s not a thong and stocking guy,” said Jack. “That’s Jan’s kink.”

  “Yeah?” Trace raised a brow. “That’s... really interesting to know.”

  Jack waited for him, then they made their way up the corridor in through the stockroom. “I’m poncing about in a skirt for no one.”

  A few of Gray’s staff working on stocking the food storage glanced up, but they seemed schooled well enough to not comment. Or Jack’s look made sure they didn’t.

  “Not even for Jan?” Trace asked when they were out of the stock room and heading for the kitchen.

  “Jan’s not in the mood for me poncing about in a skirt.”

  “Not even in stockings, a thong... tights?”

  “What the fuck is everyone’s obsession with the bloody tights?” But Jack was nearly laughing.

  “Just saying.” Trace gave Jack a strange look when he held the door open for him. “If Jan whispered a please, would you wear sexy tights for him?”

  Jack sniffed and craned his neck around the kitchen.

  “Ed’s upstairs with Gabe.” Trace headed over to the coffee machine. He’d already put it on and went to hand Jack a coffee. Jack mumbled to himself, no doubt something on Ed being some bastard or another, and Trace stopped midway as Jack ran his hands under the water again.

  Going over and putting the coffee next to the sink, Trace peered round at him. “You never answered my question.”

  Jack smiled, then focused back on his hands. “Kilt. I’d do a kilt for him,” he said quietly. “No tights, just commando. Maybe some stockings under that.”

  Trace nearly choked on his coffee. Jack glanced up and down his body, then hid a smirk as his gaze rested below the waist. “Missing Micah, huh?”

  “Too fucking much,” he said, finishing his coffee. Jack hadn’t touched his yet. “Speaking of which...” Trace put his cup down. “I want to talk to you about something.”

  “Jan?” Jack looked away.

  Trace watched him for a moment, seeing the same question there in his eyes, then he nodded. “I’ve got a few concerns, but I�
�m really interested in hearing yours when it comes to grounding Jan here and keeping him safe.”

  Jack glanced at the kitchen clock. “And you want to talk about these... concerns whilst Gray’s away, hmm?”

  Trace nodded.

  “He’s back at seven tonight.” Jack seemed uneasy, then sighed. “Okay. Running with my concerns, I need to make a phone call to a friend.”

  Trace flicked a look at the clock too. “Any particular reason why it’s important that we know when Gray will be back?”

  Jack glanced away. “Because with all the shit he’s facing, I want to know how fast and fucking far I can run when he finds out what we’re about to do.”

  Jan came home a few hours early and crashed for an hour, nearly screwing Jack’s plans up. When Trace found him sorting through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands, he pulled Jan away towards the pool room, knowing Jan needed to be drug free for tonight, even when it came to headache pills.

  As he sat down, all Jan managed was some far off stare that always ended with a long look down at his hands. Dare moved close by, his quick glances over Jan’s body discreet but checking for any puncture marks that might suggest Jan was finding a source from elsewhere to feed his habit. He’d done the same at dinner, he’d told Gabe. Gabe kept his distance, and Jack was right: he had been very quiet since they’d arrived. Even talking to him about what was to go down tonight had gotten a nod, but not much more.

  After Trace put a call through to Jack to let him know Jan was awake, Gabe smiled up. “Any other time using a phone at home, I’d have called you lazy as fuck. But this place?” He looked around. “Wouldn’t be surprised if Search and Rescue were huddled down in the storeroom somewhere.”

  “Storerooms,” said Trace, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Gray has five.”

  Gabe gave a salute, then winked at Dare. “As many bars too?”

  Jan stood up, fingers digging into the palms of his hand. “Look, I need a swim.” The moment he moved for the pool area next door, Dare shifted with him, blocking his way.

  “You’re in no condition to swim right now, Jan.”

  Jan shook him off, stumbling a few paces in the process. “It’s okay, swim I can do; I’ve always done. I’m—”

  Dare came level to Jan’s ear. “It’s not safe.”

  Jan pulled back, looking like he’d tell Dare where to stick his safety, but the weight of Dare’s hand on his shoulder seemed to ground him a little. “Fine. Fine. Compromise.” Jan rubbed at his head. “Come in with me?” More quieter now. “Okay?”

  Dare seemed to think about it. “Yeah, okay. Good compromise.” And he nodded over at Gabe. Jan moved over to one of the changing rooms, and it took him only a few minutes before he was out and easing carefully into the pool. Dare made it into the water a little quicker, but as Jack came in, Jack jolted the instance Jan hit the water.

  Gabe grabbed Jack’s arm. “He’s okay. Dare’s a good swimmer. So am I.” After patting at his arm, Gabe moved over to a lounger and slipped his trainers and socks off. Jack seemed to relax, and Gabe looked a little more at ease, even adding a slight smile as he watched Dare in just his boxers.

  Dare’s larger frame cut a little more effortlessly through the water, and a gentle lap against the edges of the pool came as he made it over to Jan. Jan wiped water from his face, startled when he looked over and saw Jack.

  There was almost, almost a now I’m home smile there that touched his lips, then it faltered into a sorry, and Jan turned away, looking ready to throw up.

  “Jack.” Dare waved him over. “You sure you don’t wanna jump in the water with us too?”

  “Land lubber here.” Jack came to Trace’s side. “I never actually learned to swim properly.”

  “Really?” Dare looked sceptical. “I thought everyone had swimming classes in schools here.”

  “If he’d bothered to go.” Jan started to tread water. “Spent more time pissed up and fighting outside the school gate until Martin made a—”

  “Stop.” Gabe eased up from the lounger, legs straddling either side as he caught Jan’s attention. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Jan.” Although Trace knew he could. “But this—” His finger went back and forth between Jan and Jack. “You’re out to hurt when I know that’s not you. So stop it.”

  Jan’s face couldn’t get much paler, and the extra dampness to his brow came more from the shivers running his body. Dare reached to him, but Jan jerked back. “How the hell do you know me, Gabe? We’ve met, what? Once? Don’t talk to me like a friend. You wouldn’t like the answer I could give sometimes.”

  “Hey, germ bag.” Dare flicked water at Jan, making it light enough to break Jan’s stare-down with Gabe. “We’re friends. Relax, okay. Jack’s looking out for you, too. Take a breather.”

  “Yeah,” Jack murmured. “I’m here for you, soft lad. Might take me a while, but I get there eventually.”

  Trace hadn’t noticed he’d moved, but Jack now stood over by the window. He looked outside after a moment, and Jan frowned, went to say something, then started on a hard length of the pool.

  “Hey, Richards,” Trace called after him. “Not finished talking to you yet.”

  “What?” Giving a longer look at Jack, Jan came back over as Trace went and crouched between the lounger Gabe sat on and the pool.

  “I need to run something by you,” said Trace as Dare came over too. Then Jack caught Trace’s attention. “That goes for you, too, lad in tights.”

  Gabe gave Trace a raised brow.

  “Man stockings,” said Jack as he came over, bypassing Trace and smacking at Gabe’s leg in order to get him to shift so he could sit down. Giving a look at Jan, Gabe pushed Jack over to the next one, more than suggesting Jack get his own and no doubt calm Jan’s reaction.

  Arms folded on the edge of the pool to keep himself from slipping back into the deep end, Jan rested his chin in his hands, saying nothing, but he didn’t like who Jack was sitting by, even though Gabe had made a point about keeping distance. The smallest thing became a knife-edge that hacked into skin when it came to drugs. Gabe no doubt understood that. Trace didn’t doubt that Jack knew that too; he’d chosen to sit on the lounger closest to Jan, and was just friendly enough to share with Gabe. Any other time jealousy wouldn’t have looked good on a man, but the possession and need to pull Jack close let Trace know that tonight was needed. Jack also eased a smile over in Jan’s direction, seeing the same, and Jan soured a touch.

  “Okay.” Jan startled at the loudness Trace used there as he glanced at his watch. “Me and Jack were talking. Details to the contract haven’t been signed yet, but before I look at that, I want to take Jack down into the hall and get a look at Martin.”

  Jan eased away from the pool edge. “What? You need Gray here for that.”

  Trace softened his tone. “I need to know that Gabe knows Jack’s stresses and breaking points, and that he can spot Martin when he triggers.”

  Jack shifted on his bench and Gabe threw a towel at him as if asking him to shut up. Again, Jan didn’t like the contact.

  “I need to know that Gabe knows what to look for, that he can handle Martin during a scene. That okay with you?”

  “The whole point of you being here was to stop Martin triggering.” Jan’s voice was so flat, and he hadn’t let Jack’s gaze fall as he’d spoken.

  “Craig’s coming back over,” said Trace and Jan frowned at him, then the worry lines eased on Jan’s face. Trace doubted it was because of how much he liked Craig. Craig came with a bag of meds.

  “How do you know Craig?” Jan wiped water off his face. “Was he your contact at the psych unit to let you know Jack had been released?” That softness to Jan’s face, it was barely there anymore. “You knew about Jack stealing Craig’s papers, when Jack was at the MC. Hardly professional for a psychiatric nurse, is it? If he’s been breaking confidentiality.”

  Did that worry suggest that Halliday might have known about the drug abuse? That
Jan was worried that information would get out? “I know Craig from my dealings with the MC.” Trace wanted to put Jan’s mind at ease. “Craig’s a confidential guy; he wouldn’t breach that.” Trace stood and stretched out his legs. “But I do know Joe.”

  That got Jack’s attention. “Joe, as in Seen Joe’s teeth, Jack... Joe? How the fuck do you know him?” There was a lot of fondness there at the mention of the old man’s name.

  Trace tapped the side of his nose. “Spoilers. You don’t get to know them at the MC.” Joe had been a good friend of Nicholai, still was, and, well, Nicholai had visited Joe a few times during Jack’s... stay at the psych unit. Gray’s resignation from the MC had worried more than a few, and the struggle was there to piece together why.

  Jan snorted and looked away, as though jealous over Joe now. He slipped a hand through wet hair, drawing it off his brow. “Gray’s not here.”

  “Gray will be here by then. But if you want this to stop, say stop.” That came off Jack.

  “Also, go and call Gray if you need to, Jan,” Trace said gently. “But in all honesty, this doesn’t concern you. You can stay here with Dare. You don’t have to be anywhere near us. In fact, I recommend it. But if you tell me to stop now, I will. If you need to call Gray and talk to him, I’ll wait. But I need for Gabe to see and understand how Martin works. You of all people can appreciate that?”

  Just the gentle lap of water came as the pool fell quiet.

  “Jan?” said Jack in a quiet voice. “Say time out if—”

  “Fine. It’s bloody fine,” Jan snapped quickly, not even looking at Jack. “It’s... fine.” Some lines eased on his face, but the shakes going on with his hands threatened to pull him back away from Jack, into the water. “It’s okay, seriously. Trace is right; Gabe needs to know he can handle Martin, and—”

  Movement back by the door caught Jan’s attention, and Trace glanced back. Jack was already up on his feet, making his way over to Craig, as he pushed on through to the pool area, a case in one hand.

  “Back again and bringing the big guns out this time. Hm?” said Jack, pausing to eye-up the case with a soft smile.