Trusting Jack (MC Securities Book 1)

by Ruby Moone

  He finally made it to the bar, and Noah was running about serving drinks and laughing with customers along with someone who he’d never seen before.

  There was no sign of Jack.

  After a moment he caught Noah’s eye.

  “Hey, Michael!” he yelled over the bar. The noise made it hard to hear.

  “Hey. Is Jack about?”

  Noah handed over change to the person next to him and angled his head towards him. “What?”

  “Is Jack about?” he shouted.

  Noah frowned. “Jack didn’t come in.”

  “What?” The noise levels were ridiculous. Thundering bass, shrieking people… Michael wanted to scream at them all to be fucking silent, so he could hear what the hell Noah was going on about. Flashing lights made it hard to see for a moment.

  “Say again?”

  Noah leaned over the bar. “Jack didn’t turn in. Kev nearly wet himself trying to find someone to cover.”

  Michael stared at him. The words sinking in.

  Noah reached over him to serve the guy now pressing him up against the bar.

  Jack hadn’t gone to work. Hadn’t turned in. Jack always turned in. Always.

  He’d gone.

  The noise seemed to subside until Michael felt as if he were in a bubble. Everything around him was muffled and his heart beat in a steady rhythm.

  Gone. Gone. Gone.

  He walked out of the bar, still in a daze, and found Christian arguing with Jed on the door as he tried to get in. It was cold outside, but it barely registered. Christian abandoned his argument and walked towards him, speaking, but Michael had no idea what he said.

  “He didn’t go to work. I dropped him off, but he didn’t turn in. He’s gone.”

  “Mikey…”

  Michael didn’t know what do, what to say.

  Christian took him by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go back to your place and work out what to do.”

  Michael nodded and let himself be towed along. He felt numb. That couldn’t be it. Couldn’t be that he’d never see him again. There had to be a mistake.

  They set off walking back to Christian’s car, and Michael couldn’t bear the worried, sympathetic glances he kept sending his way.

  “There’s an explanation. I’m certain. Jack Whelan is not the kind of man to swindle me out of money. He isn’t.” It was true. When he’d realised what was going on with Alex, he’d realised immediately what a fool he’d been, but this time… Jack was different. He swallowed. He had to be different.

  “Mikey… I know you want to trust him but look at the facts.”

  Michael squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Have you been to the police?”

  Michael shook his head. “He begged me not to.”

  Christian just gave him a look.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again as they strode out.

  “I’m going to try and ring him.”

  Michael took out his phone and pulled up Jack’s contact. He stared at the picture of him that he’d assigned. Jack was smiling shyly. His grey eyes shone with affection, dark hair windswept. It was the shot that Michael like to think that he cared about him. He hit dial.

  His heart beat fast when it rang, but it rang and rang. Nothing.

  He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

  He was putting it back in his pocket when a text sounded. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

  Jack.

  Jack.

  “It’s him.”

  Christian glanced over at him. “What does he say?”

  Holding his breath, he opened it.

  Jack: Can’t talk sweetie, but thanks for everything. Love you. X

  Michael stared.

  “What? Is it him?”

  Michael ran a hand down his face and took a deep breath. “It is. There’s something wrong.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  An odd calm settled over Michael as he showed Christian the text.

  Christian winced as he read it. “Oh, shit.”

  “It’s not Jack.”

  Christian looked at him with a frown.

  “It’s not Jack.” Michael’s heart was thumping now. He could feel blood rush to his face, and he felt shaky, but for a different reason.

  “How do you know? It’s his phone.”

  “First, he never calls me sweetie, and second, he’s never told me he loves me. He wouldn’t text like that. It’s not him.”

  Christian opened his mouth and shut it again. “That’s a bit…tenuous?”

  Galvanised, Michael shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Where’s the car?”

  “Down here. Mikey…where are we going?”

  Michael strode out, determination riding him. “Police. He’s been taken. I’m certain.” His heart was thundering, head racing trying to work out what the hell was going on. Jack was in danger. He was certain now.

  Then it hit him. He turned to stare at Christian. “Fucking Bryce.”

  “Bryce?”

  “Think about it. Nathan owed money to McCafferty. He says the debt died with him, but Bryce has been dogging Jack for months over it. Told him McCafferty would have his balls for earrings if he didn’t pay. Bryce. Not McCafferty, Bryce.”

  “Well, you gave Bryce the money. Why would he take Jack? It doesn’t make sense.”

  They were walking quickly, dodging people as they went. Michael dipped around a drunk couple kissing. “I think Bryce wants him. The first time I saw him, he was assaulting Jack.” Michael’s guts clenched at the thought. What if he’d abducted Jack. What if… Oh, God. His guts clenched painfully.

  The arrived at the car, and threw themselves in. Christian pulled out his own phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Daniel.”

  Christian started the car and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled away from the kerb. “I’ll find out where Bryce might be.”

  “I think we need the police.”

  “Let me speak to Danny first. We don’t want the plod all over it if we can help it. Does Jack have a GPS tracker on his phone? An app to find his phone? Anything like that? Do you have any surveillance?”

  “No. I bloody don’t track him. Anyway, his phone’s ancient. I need to find him, Christian. If Daniel isn’t there, I’m calling the police.”

  They sped through the streets back to the flat. Daniel answered, and Christian was firing questions at him. All Michael could think of was Jack in danger, Jack in Bryce’s clutches. Jack hurt. He should have gone into the club with him. He should have kept him safe. Should have known that this wouldn’t be the end of it. He felt such a fucking fool. They pulled around the corner to where Michael lived, and Christian swung the car around to go to the underground car park.

  “Stop!”

  Christian screeched to a halt, the rear fishtailing. “What the fuck, Mikey?”

  “Jack!” Michael threw open the door and scrambled from the car before it had stopped moving.

  There, slumped by the main door to the apartments, was a huddled figure. Dark spiky hair, black string top worn by the bar staff at Dooley’s. Barefoot in the freezing cold.

  Jack.

  Michael threw himself to his knees and gathered him into his arms. “Jack, Jack, speak to me. Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes.” He was limp in Michael’s arms. Too limp. He pushed his fingers into his neck and found his pulse. It was rapid, but strong.

  His eyes fluttered, and Michael’s chest tightened. Jack’s voice was weak. “Are you okay?”

  Michael squeezed his eyes tight shut for a moment and then opened them. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He stroked Jack’s hair back from his face. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside. Come on, can you stand?”

  Jack shook his head. “Bastard jabbed me with something. Think he drugged me. Feel like shit.”

  “Oh, fuck.” Michael’s voice was faint. “We might be better getting you to hospital.”

  “No. No hospitals.”


  Michael’s heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted to gather Jack into his arms and carry him into the building. Into the lift, but he was too limp, too heavy, too much.

  “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He held him tightly to him, breathing him in. Absorbing the feel of him.

  He watched as Christian took the car into the underground car park, then come running back out.

  “He’s been drugged,” Michael said once Christian was beside him. Christian knelt and ran his hands over him, peered into his eyes and moved his head.

  “Jack. Jack? Can you hear me?”

  Jack’s eyes fluttered open and he tried without much success to focus.

  “Let’s get him up and inside.”

  Michael took hold of one arm, Christian the other, and between them they got him to his feet. Michael put his shoulder beneath his armpit and held him steady. His legs were like noodles.

  Christian came took Jack’s other arm, and between them they got him into the building and into the lift.

  “Do I know you?” Jack asked, peering at Christian with unfocused eyes as the lift doors closed.

  Christian smiled and hesitated. “No, but you might know my cousin.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Daniel McCafferty. I’m Christian McCafferty.”

  Jack froze. Michael felt him go rigid. His head swivelled, and he looked Michael in the eye, shocked, horrified. “Michael….”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay, I told you, he has nothing to do with his cousin’s business.”

  Jack remained rigid and unmoving.

  They got into the flat, and Jack yanked his arm out of Christian’s hold.

  “Let’s get you warmed up.” Michael put an arm around his waist and led him to the bathroom.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Christian said.

  “Thank you.” Michael glanced back over his shoulder at Christian who stood in the lounge, frowning. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  Michael nodded. “We might need to get him to the hospital yet. I’ll let you know.” Christian just nodded and left quietly.

  Michael turned and focused his attention on the man in his arms. The man who was freezing cold, partly out of it, trembling all over.

  “Come on. In the shower.”

  “I don’t get it. What the fuck is going on?” Jack feebly resisted Michael’s attempts to push him towards the shower. “What day is it?”

  Michael looked at him and reached out. He touched his cheek. “I don’t know what’s going on. It’s still Monday. Still Christmas Eve. You gave Bryce the ten thousand, I dropped you off at the club, but you never got to work. I went to find you, but Noah said you’d not arrived. I got a text saying, ‘thanks for everything.’”

  Jack’s mouth was hanging open.

  Michael nodded a couple of times. The pressure behind his eyes growing. “I thought… I thought ….”

  “You thought I’d left you? Took the money and left you?”

  Michael nodded. He felt ashamed. Ashamed that he’d thought the worst. Christian hadn’t helped, but he’d jumped to conclusions so fast his head had spun.

  “Is that the kind of person you think I am?”

  Michael closed his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “No. I knew there was an explanation. I did trust you, I swear, I just… I just…”

  Jack shook his head and wobbled. “S’okay.”

  Michael swallowed. “Did he hurt you?”

  “I don’t know. I was unconscious.” Jack put a hand to his neck. “Think they jabbed me with something.”

  Michael could see a puncture wound, and his heart sank.

  “Are you in pain…anywhere?” Michael didn’t want to think what Bryce might have done while Jack was unconscious. His knot in his guts twisted higher.

  “Not really. Just feel sick and wobbly. My feet hurt. Got away. Walked…ran…” He looked down at his filthy feet. “Where are my shoes?”

  “I don’t know, don’t worry about them.”

  “But you bought them for me….” Jack swayed, and Michael caught him.

  “I think we need a doctor. I’ve no idea what he’s given you. It could be anything.” He put a hand on Jack’s forehead. He didn’t seem to have a temperature, but what would he know. “I think we should go …”

  “I’m fine,” Jack interrupted. “I’m coming round. Just need a shower and a drink.”

  Michael hesitated. He wasn’t sure about this at all.

  “Please?”

  Michael gave in, and set the shower running. He pulled out some towels. “Come on. Let’s get you in.”

  Jack pulled at his clothes, so Michael gently undressed him, then stripped himself. He took Jack’s hand and led him into the water, then held him against his own body while he let the spray run over them both. Jack sighed and leaned into him. Michael put his arms around him and closed his eyes.

  Once Jack was dry, and in his PJs, they sat in the lounge with Jack nursing a mug of tea. Some colour was returning to his face, and he was marginally less wobbly.

  He took a sip from the mug and scratched the back of his neck and blinked a few times. “Feel a bit better now.”

  Michael still wanted him checked over, but he remained silent.

  “So, what happened?” Jack looked at him and there was a good deal of caution in his gaze.

  Michael cleared his throat.

  “The money…” Michael didn’t know how to say it. He needed everything out in the open between them, but...

  He shook his head and plunged in. “Christian spoke to Daniel. There was no debt. Daniel knew about Nathan, and he did owe him money, but the debt died with him. Whatever Bryce has cooked up he has done it himself. Christian is going to speak to Daniel.”

  Jack’s jaw dropped. “Bryce made the whole thing up? The whole thing?” His voice was getting higher and louder. He put the tea down. “I never owed money to McCafferty at all?”

  Michael shook his head. “It looks like Bryce decided to make some money for himself.”

  Jack was staring. Wide eyed. “The bastard,” he whispered after a moment. “The fucking bastard!”

  “I know.” Michael went to hold him, but Jack pulled away.

  “When did you find this out?”

  Michael put his hands back in his lap. “A little while ago. Christian came around and told me. I went to the club to find you and ask you what was going on… you weren’t there. Noah said you hadn’t turned up.”

  Jack scrubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. “So, you thought I’d run off with him.” He looked sad. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

  “Jack, I didn’t know what to think.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Michael sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I knew it couldn’t be true. I couldn’t believe you’d do something like that, but Christian kept saying there was no debt, and it all got…” He sighed. “My ex ran away with a lot of my ideas. He only wanted me for what he could get. I was terrified that I’d let my guard down again and…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I went to the club to speak to you. I felt sure that if I could just speak to you it would all be explained, but I got there, and they said you’d not turned up for work. I’ll admit, I had a few bad moments but then… then…”

  He pulled out his phone, found the text and showed it to Jack.

  “You’ve never called me sweetie, or...or said you love me. If you were going to, it wouldn’t be as an afterthought on a text. It all fell into place then. It had to be Bryce who’d taken you. I’ve never been so scared in my life.” Michael felt his voice waver.

  Jack reached out and took his hand. “Shit, I’m so sorry you went through that.”

  “I’m just glad you’re here and unhurt. When I thought he had you…what he might do to you…”

  “Shh.” Jack scooted closer and kissed him. Michael squeezed his eyes tight shut and kissed him back gently, stroking his face.

  “You lo
ok tired,” Michael whispered.

  “Feel it. Feel like I’ve been run over.”

  “Maybe you should rest a while?”

  Jack nodded. “I need to lie down.”

  He curled up in a ball on the sofa, put his head on a cushion, and fell asleep.

  Michael watched him for a long time, making sure that he was breathing, wondering if he should call an ambulance. In the end, he settled in beside him.

  He pulled out his phone and texted Christian to say that he seemed okay and asked him to let him know what Daniel said. He hoped that Daniel was going to deal with Bryce. Preferably painfully. He scrolled through his emails and found one from the developer. The flats that he’d been looking at for Jack would be ready for viewing after Christmas. He sighed. He should at least give him the option of his own home. He deserved it. Much as he wanted to beg him to stay, Jack was right, it was too soon. But the thought of going back to living alone was…frankly, shit.

  He put the phone down and laid his head against the back of the sofa, just grateful that Jack was beside him. He looked at his bare feet. He must have walked a fair way because they were red and roughened, with cuts and grazes. He ran his finger gently over a red patch, and Jack leaped up.

  “Shit! Sorry, sorry….” Michael grabbed his arms and held him, recalling last time he’d touched him unexpectedly when he was asleep. He’d completely forgotten.

  Jack blinked and then collapsed into him. “Shit, you scared me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Michael murmured, stroking his hair. “So sorry.”

  He held him until Jack pulled away.

  “Better?”

  Jack nodded and fiddled with the edge of his pyjama top. Usually conversation flowed so easily between them, but they sat like strangers. Jack looked up. “Do you mind if we put the Christmas tree lights on and some music?”

  Michael looked at the tree. He hadn’t wanted to put the lights back on without Jack there.

  “Of course not.”

  Michael moved about lighting the lights, fiddling with the ornaments, then put on some Christmas songs. It reminded him of when they had decorated the tree. When they had made love for the first time. His throat felt thick. He’d pushed everything so damned fast. He needed to give him time. Time and space.