Antidote (Don't) (34 page)

“He’s running a fever,” said the young doctor, now checking the reading taken from Jack’s ear. “With the distension and penetrative injury, it hints at peritonitis.” He seemed to nod. “We should get mov—”

Movement back by the door caught my attention. Gently pushing past Brennan and Carr, Gray came through, hands now clean, clothes changed, or burned, one of the two. His gaze found mine, then either through natural default or the inability not to look away anymore, Gray’s gaze rested on Jack.

“Ah.” He seemed transfixed on Jack, his hip. “You.” He came a little closer, his lips thinning, a hand running through his hair. “Get... get that the fuck
off
him.”

The branding initial on Jack’s hip was exposed, the V all open and scabbing. I didn’t know much about branding; neither had Vince by the look of things. That looked more serious than the third degree burn most brandings left. Vince had hit Jack’s hip twice, and in the same place, maybe thinking it would mark him faster. There was no infection, suggesting Vince had at least taken care of that. Said it all really; that he’d take care of the ownership mark and not Jack.

The doctor started to say something to Gray, looking more ready to wheel Jack into surgery, but Gray, that bloodhound look back on his face, he moved a hell of a lot quicker, grabbing the young doctor and pinning him down on the bed.

“It’ll fuck with his head. Get
that cunt’s fucking ownership mark off him, or I swear to god I’ll
—”

I was over, grabbing at Gray, not making any difference until Brennan stepped in and we managed to drag him out into the hall. Brennan pushed him away from the room, saying nothing. Gray regained his footing, only to glare at me, Brennan—then the coffee machine he spotted took all of Gray’s anger and rage as he started to kick the shit out of it.

“
Fucker
,” he cried. “
Thought the bastard was winding things up saying he’d brand
—” Gray cut himself off with a cry, and this time Brennan seemed unwilling to intervene a second time as Gray pulled the coffee machine to the floor, sending bits flying over to us. “
Fucking mine. Nobody’s
ever
but fucking mine
.”

I watched, waited, let the chaos run. But giving a look over at me, something seemed to drain out of Gray and he slumped back against the wall, crying out. As Jack was wheeled from the room, I stepped through the debris of the coffee machine and went over to Gray. He went to push away, but I pulled him into a hold. There was a fight for a second to get me off, then he rested into silence against me, his head on my shoulder.

“That night he walked,” I said quietly, “Jack, he held onto me saying he’d see you in the morning. Said he knew better than anyone how Cutter fucked with someone’s head.” I kissed Gray’s cheek. “Jack said he loved you too much to let Cutter take you down too, that he should have taken his own head out of his ass, kissed the hell out of you, and just told you again how much he loved you.” I knew I held Gray, but I didn’t
feel
Gray. “The only thing that stopped him was those bastards, Gray.”

Gray gripped at me for the briefest of seconds, and I returned it.

“Whoever paid to watch that,” I said to him. “They were the only thing that stopped him coming back.” I closed my eyes. “Fucking loves you so much, Gray. Saw it every time they put your photo by him, how he’d risk rape and torture just to brush his cheek against yours. So for his sake, for mine, please remember that. You focus on that, you find the bastards,” I gripped his hair, hard, and meant every word that I breathed next, “and you make it stop.”

Gray’s breathing deepened, that deep inhale, exhale, and he pulled away to run a hand through his hair. A look back down at Brennan, at me, he gave a nod. Just the one.

“Anything from where we were held?” I asked quietly and Gray shook his head, his hand going on the back of my neck, pulling me back in close.

“Prints showed that the obs room only had Vince and his bastards in there.” He dropped his head a touch, resting against mine. “It’s too early for anything else, but I get the feeling whoever funded this never went near the warehouse itself, or they were careful enough to cover their tracks.”

I returned the touch resting on the back of my neck, digging a little harder into Gray’s. Then things started to come back, the grey areas as I heard talking back down the corridor. “There was a voice that came over the speaker system. Someone Vince listened to.”

Gray looked up. “It’s possible that the computers were hooked up to an external live webcam feed.”

“The funder could have been watching from home?”

“If they wanted to lie low, yes. You say he spoke?”

I nodded. “Sounded strange, though.”

“How?”

I shrugged. “Doctored,” I said to him. “Like the voice was being distorted.”

“Good,” said Gray.

“Good?” I couldn’t understand that. “How?”

“Because it suggests they didn’t want their voice recognised, so....” Gray pulled back slightly.

“What?”

He shook it off, but still seemed a little distracted. “How angry was Lisa with you, Jan? Rob’s wife?”

It hit me why he’d gone quiet. “You...” I swallowed hard. “You think this is down to me? That Lisa—” Fumbling distractedly in my pockets, I stopped talking when I tugged two familiar items out. A frown crept in and I turned away only to have Gray pull at my arm and take the mobile phones off me.

“You shouldn’t have taken these.” He was already nodding over to Brennan, who dipped into the medical room Jack had just been in. He came out a moment later with two plastic bags.

“I need Jack’s phone, Gray,” I said quietly. “I...” I shrugged. “I don’t know his mom’s and dad’s numbers. They need to know.”

“I know,” Gray said quietly, but he still slipped one mobile in one bag, another in the other. Sealing one after the other, he then handed me Jack’s mobile. “Keep it in that.” A wipe of hand over his face, Gray tapped at the mobile I held. “I need that back when you’re done.”

I nodded and sorted through for Gregory’s number.

The dialling tone kicked in, then a voice the other end said, “Jack?” Gregory didn’t sound happy. “For god’s sake, boy. I just hope your time with lover boy was worth me being a manager down over the Christmas period. I had to get Paul to cover your ass, and you know how much your ass riles him. You—”

“Mr. Harrison?” I stopped him mid-flow. “Gregory, it’s Jan Richards here—”

“Jan?” A pause. “Oh, I’m sorry, son. I’m just a little pissed with Jack, is all. Can you put him on?”

A hand went to my mouth. Then I kept it brief, not going over any details, just giving Greg the directions to the base as Gray nodded, let him know that Jack was in surgery, then told him to drive carefully. For all of the minute it lasted, it was the hardest phone call I’d had to make.

Two security men were wrestling the coffee machine back to its feet when I looked back, although it wouldn’t work again from the amount of water that bled on the floor. Giving Gray a thin smile, I handed Jack’s phone over, looking down at mine and burying the need to smash it to pieces and leave it bleeding with the coffee machine.

“You two, in here,” said Brennan, indicating to a side room opposite Jack’s. I slumped down next to Gray as he sat on a comfortable looking settee, my hands falling on my knees. Nobody spoke, which was strange considering I thought that was why Brennan had pulled us out of the corridor, maybe to talk about anything he gained from Keal’s computers even though his team had only had them for a few hours. But quiet. Everything was so quiet, Brennan and Gray sharing that quietness, a glance.

The image was there, choosing a Christmas tree with Jack, dragging the giant thing into Gray’s and Gray trying to look so bloody pissed as Jack hung that spanner after such a sheepish shrug.

Not so tough. Not so fucking tough at all.

A sob choked free.

“Jan.” There was a touch to my knee and I opened my eyes to find Brennan crouched by me. “I need to get you checked over by the doctor.” He took my hand, turned it over, and ran his thumb over the bruises ringing my wrist.

“I’m okay,” I said quietly, pulling away from the touch. A shake of head, Brennan held my hand up and watched how badly it shook.

“No. You’re not,” he said gently. “You need—”

“Jack,” I said quietly. “Just need Jack....” I shrugged. “So badly now. Just, just leave me alone, yeah?”

An arm slipped around my shoulders, and I jerked away only to find Gray pull a little harder before my head found his shoulder. “Sleep. You’re both in a place with enough surgeons, MI5, CID, MOD ops, and MC security to make the Queen sleep soundly.”

Too little too late. That nearly pulled me away from Gray, but he held on a little tighter, his silence maybe suspecting it. After that, nothing mattered. My body didn’t care, started to shut down without my consent. Even my own body denied me control now.

I woke to darkness and the sound of feet shuffling outside. Breathing came to a stop, caught in the fear that any noise would open doors and Henry would come in for force-feeding time. Then other senses kicked into gear, soft sheets against my cheek, against my shoulder as I lay curled to my side. Disinfectant too, there was also that thin pencil of light through the rim of the door, and it ran over a smooth, polished floor. MC’s infirmary. I was in the MC’s infirmary and I’d been shifted from the leather settee onto a bed. From the corridor came shouting, and someone sounded aggravated—

I eased up, looking toward the door. Several voices drifted over the quiet of the hospital room and I tilted my ear to try and catch what was said, but the mix was too much, tones too angry. Wincing at the aches in my body, I went to ease off the bed, the fact I was wearing a hospital gown hitting me a little more seeing my bare legs. A catheter jutted out of my hand, and I blindly found the IV stand next to the bed. Electrolyte solution in the IV bag shifted from side to side as I made it over to the voices in the corridor. Managing to pull the door open, I blinked against the onslaught of light.

Gray was just off to the right, not far from the reception desk, where the coffee machine had lain broken. Brennan was close by, and I recognised Elena immediately, looking irate and pale not far from them, but still so business like in her suit. And the other older man next to her, he must have been Gregory. Jack’s dad. Yeah. He looked like Jack’s dad.

I coughed. Nothing deliberate, just an ache from my ribs and sore throat, everything feeling a little hot, chesty. Conversation stopped and people looked over. I offered a small smile, but Gray’s eyes darkened, then he was by me, calling a nurse over. “It’s okay,” I mumbled back, but Gray was already back with the nurse as she stopped by us.

“Mr. Richards should be sedated. Why the fuck is no one watching his obs—”

“Jan?” Greg pulled Gray away from me as Elena came over. “Jan Richards? My god....” Hands mapped my face as he looked me over. “Jan.... Just what the hell’s gone on, son? You, you look—” He looked at Gray. “Just what the hell is going on?”

“Mr. Harrison—”

“
Don’t you fucking Mr. anything me, Gray
,” shouted Greg, and I saw all of Jack’s inherited ability to go from calm to chaos right there. Greg was suddenly very calm again as he glanced briefly at me, then back at Gray. “The only time people get hurt is when you’re around. So you, you tell me what... you tell me just what the hell’s going on here.”

The doctor who had helped wheel Jack away came over, looking very tired. “Mr. Richards, Mr. Raoul—”

I stopped him there, knowing Greg and Elena needed to hear this too. “This...” I looked at them both, “...these are Jack’s parents. Gregory and Elena Harrison.”

The young doctor nodded, paused long enough to shake their hands, then said, “Come on through, please.” He indicated back into my room. Not that I minded. I stepped aside to let Greg and Elena enter, waited for Gray and Brennan to go through too, then slipped in after the doctor, who was wiping the sleep from his eyes. Greg and Elena had taken the two chairs next to my bed, the young surgeon sat opposite, Brennan stayed back by the door.

I opted for resting right there against the wall. Gray didn’t move from by my side, the tension hidden in his face but apparent in his body as he stayed resting back against the wall.

“Okay,” said the doctor with a sigh. “We’ve given Jack a strong sedative that will be topped up over the next twenty-four hours. He sustained significant injury, and tied in with the ketamine overdoses, I took the decision to keep him sedated to allow his body extra time to heal.” The young doctor glanced briefly at Gray before focusing on Greg and Elena. He looked a little uncomfortable, more so toward Gray than anyone else. “Among the anal fissures posterior midline position, the rectal wall was perforated, leading to distension through bleeding. His fever’s caused by the first stages of peritonitis. He’s still very sick from the infection. Besides the contusions to his body, there was also a little penile trauma. We had to do a retrograde urethragram to rule out urethral injury—”

“I’m sorry?” Greg was looking around us. “How...” He shrugged. “Just what kind of accident causes those kinds of injuries?”

The young doctor looked down at his hands. “Mr. Harrison,” he said quietly. “Jack is showing every sign of being drugged, gang raped, and tortured over a sustained period of time.”

Greg got slowly to his feet, shooting a glance at me, the doctor—back at Gray. “You.”

“Mr. Harrison—” said the doctor.

“
No
,” Greg shouted at him; then he looked at Gray. “You.” Anger was battling just plain confusion. “You tell me how—why—why someone would rape my boy. He, he....”

Gray pushed away from the wall and Greg sank back down into his chair, his universe seeming to crumple in on its self as Gray crouched in front of him.

“Greg, a few weeks back someone sent me footage of Jack and Cutter together,” he said quietly, and Greg snapped his head up, went to say something, but failed to manage anything. “Whoever sent that tape,” said Gray. “I’m one hundred percent sure they’re responsible for everything that Jack and Jan have been through for the past two weeks—”