Antidote (Don't) (35 page)

“Jan? Two week—”

Gray carried on, needing to get the details out quickly. “There are numerous leads we’re following. You have my word that I will find them.”

Greg frowned. And again so many questions flashed in his eyes. “I-I need to see my boy.” It was the most basic parental request that came out.

“Of course,” said the doctor as Gray eased back to his feet.

I watched them leave, then found Gray staying behind to hold the door for me. I didn’t realise until I pushed through that Greg had lingered too for a moment, just watching, then he was gone.

In Jack’s room, something other than the IV stand stopped me from going over to the bed, the same thing that had forced me to hold back following Gray to Jack’s room. Greg and Elena were there, Greg running his hands through Jack’s hair in much the same way I had. Elena sat opposite, seeming unwilling to touch, to disturb and wake the sleeping to the hurt.

Jack was on his back, an IV line set up close by, breathing, pulse, and blood pressure under close obs by machines. But he was unconscious, lips pale, cracked, his left eye sporting a bruise. No blood, and again it shocked me how clean he was. His hair had that shine to it, like he’d just washed it, that he’d taken a shower and—

All evidence removed, washed away.

A slight jostle, Gray rested next to me by the door and I caught the brush of his hand against the back of mine. I couldn’t return the touch, as much as I needed to feel something, to be able to feel
someone
, the fear was there with what images would surface if I allowed feeling to creep in.

“I’m....” The doctor fell into silence for a moment as he stood next to Elena. “We have run other tests.” Greg looked up, startled, and the doctor seemed to slip into his role and push tiredness aside as he looked over at me. “For all cases like this, sexually transmitted diseases are a concern.”

A groan hit the room, and it took Gray’s brush of hand to realise it was from me. “They didn’t wear any protection.”

“They?” Greg frowned over. “Did you—did you see it, son?”

I looked down, grinding my teeth.

“I need to know.” Greg glanced down at Jack. “Jan, please,” he said back to me. “What happened?”

Vince was still far too close, Henry still climbing on my skin, Jack being forced against me, me against him. “Greg, I can’t,” I said quietly. “The details... should come from Jack, and all in his own time.”

“Any other time, somebody else’s son,” said Greg, “I’d agree with you. But I’m Jack’s father, Jan. I’ve watched him grow up and fight with his disorders, then coped with the fallout. I need to know what I’m facing now. Basic care plan, Jan. Let me know what I’m dealing with, please. He’s my son.”

Christ, there was everything else to contend with surrounding the fallout. Jack’s disorders. Gray knew it, he’d always known it. Everything planned in advance around Jack, reactions thought out, anticipated—catered for.

Details were kept brief, just going over what happened to Jack. They didn’t need to know about me. By the time I’d finished speaking, Greg was looking at me with this strange blankness. Elena... she refused to look away from Jack, the speed at which she stroked his hand, how she steadily increased it, being the only indication of emotion threatening to overflow. Gray remained quiet, very fucking quiet. Maybe he knew I’d brushed over the worst.

“His disorder?” Greg didn’t look as though he believed it. It was just the stuff of nightmares to me. “Some twisted fuck’s idea of curing his disorder?” said Greg.

“Psychological reconditioning,” said Gray quietly, and both Elena and Greg were back with him. “There are similar cases found in the likes of cults or rape-to-straight... This seems a perverted version. The issue with placing the photo away from Jack but still in sight is a known technique to psychologists to help ease OCD symptoms.” I looked at Gray, wondering when he’d found that out.

“But tied in with BDSM....” Greg frowned. “Jack isn’t into BDSM.”

“Oh, Greg,” said Elena, giving a deep sigh. “What do you think that man was doing to Jack as a boy? All the cuts... the bruises?”

“I’m not stupid, Elena. People live BDSM lives, showing something beyond a liking for sadomasochism. What Cutter did...” His fists clenched, unclenched. “How he exploited Jack’s disorders, all to cut other kids up—that wasn’t BDSM. This....” He pointed at Jack. “
This
isn’t BDSM.”

That surprised me. Step back six months, compare me to Greg, he knew more about BDSM than I had as a vanilla. But he still looked as confused as hell. “Why?” he said, looking between me and Gray. “Jack isn’t into the BDSM lifestyle. Why that? Why this?”

I resisted looking at Gray, damn my soul, I resisted looking at him and throwing this further into the land of chaos for Jack’s parents.

“Greg, Elena,” said Gray, seemingly in no way to want to make this any harder for them just yet either. “I’m going to have to ask you a few questions soon. Mostly surrounding anyone you might remember asking questions about Jack, his disorders, his home life. Also just a brief statement on your whereabouts, on—”

“Mine?” Greg took a few steps away from Jack. “
Elena’s
?” That ability to go from calm to chaos rushed the room with Greg’s voice and body language. He was coming around the bed, and Elena, wiping tears from her cheeks, she moved at the same time, but only to quietly step in front of Greg, her back to us, cheek gently brushing Greg’s. Had Jack taken that from his parents, those quiet touches? “
You think us—we had something to do with this?
” snarled Greg. “
You
—”

“Greg,” whispered Elena, eyes closed as she kissed his jaw. “Please... please. He’s doing his job. Let him do his job—Let him...” She couldn’t say anything else, falling quiet as she held on.

But that raised a few serious questions on my part, ones that took me exactly to the same place Greg had already reached.

Stood next to Gray as Elena tried to control Greg, I looked at Gray, now questioning that quiet word that Brennan had originally given to Harry back at the warehouse. Had that been to start pulling names up on Jack’s immediate family? His friends?
My
family?
My
friends? “Gray—” I started, but a touch against my hand off him stopped it.

“Okay, okay,” said Greg quickly, running hands through his hair, then pushing Elena gently to the side. “We’ll give every move we’ve made over the past two weeks, list every one of Jack’s relatives, his friends—even down to the bloody milkman and how many times Jack pissed him off with pinching milk off his milk cart. Maybe that pissed him off enough to do this, eh? Then you ask your questions—but you damn well make sure you do your job and find who’s hurt him. Clear?”

Elena had sat back down, her touch now on Jack, for Jack.

Gray remained distant, waiting for things to calm, maybe used to family reactions, maybe knowing it was part of the job. Only his silence said something else too. “Can you think of anything out of the ordinary happening lately?” he said eventually. “And I’m not just talking about these past few weeks, but over the last couple of months.” There was a professional bite to that, maybe recognition he’d never be viewed as anything but an outsider to Greg.

Elena glanced over her shoulder, her look more understanding, more on Gray and needing him there. “Gray, we don’t—”

“It’s important just to take time to think,” he said to her gently as Greg went back over by Jack, opposite Elena. “These people,” added Gray, “they had a replica of Jack’s whole house in the warehouse. They knew everything about his life and disorder. They would have found that out some way, either through friends or family, or just through getting access to his home and medical records. So anything, anything at all you can remember, no matter how minor, will help.”

Greg’s gaze seemed to startle. “A woman.” He glanced at me, then Gray. “A woman. She asked if I was Jack’s dad.”

Gray eased off the wall a touch. “Woman?”

Gregory looked as though he was searching for the memory. “We bumped into each other, well, we’d stopped for a coffee.” He glanced at Elena. “Back in July, the morning of the solicitor’s visit. Remember?”

Elena frowned. Shrugged. “Back at Epping Forest? Butler’s Retreat?”

July? I’d just met Jack around that time.

“Yes.” Greg was nodding. “You’d headed into the cafe; I was just locking the Range Rover up. As I turned, I’d bumped into this woman.” He didn’t seem to like the memory. “I dropped my wallet, my keys.”

“And she asked if you were Jack’s father?”

Greg glanced over at Gray. “Yes. She helped me pick my things up, some of the solicitor letters I’d also been carrying. She seemed a bit surprised when she saw my name. She asked if I knew Jack Harrison.”

“Did she mention her name?” said Gray.

“No.” Greg tried to think back. “But she had a watch, one attached to her shirt. A nurse’s watch.” I glanced at Gray as Greg frowned. “Jack’s been in contact with enough medical people, I just took it that she was one of those he’d met.”

“You said items were knocked out of your hands,” repeated Gray. “Was there any moment when you were facing away from her? You carry a set of Jack’s house keys; did she handle them at any time?”

“She turned her back on me but it was only to pick up some loose change, I think.”

“Okay, good. Thank you” He sounded thoughtful. “I know it’s been a while, but if I call in a forensic sketch artist, would you be able to describe her?”

Greg rubbed at his chin. “I’ll damn well try. It stuck in my mind because I know plenty of men who have called after Jack. A woman is a rarity.”

“You think there was a sexual undertone to her questioning?”

“Sorry?”

Gray dug a hand in his trouser pocket. “Jack has contact with plenty of women, yet you put this meeting on a par with men calling after Jack on a more personal level.”

Greg thought it over. “I guess I did. Only not in a good way, like a bad memory on her part. There was a short clip to her tone when she spoke to me.”

“And she said Jack’s name specifically?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Gray, then—“Anything else at all? Anything out of the ordinary. Either of you?”

Greg looked at Elena for confirmation, but she shook her head as Greg said, “There have been times when Jack’s been away for Christmas over the years on business.” I wondered if that business meant Master Circle business. “Okay it was a little sudden,” said Greg, “but Jack, he goes casual sometimes to, well, you know, to order things, to...” He trailed into quiet, looking back at Jack.

“He phoned.” Elena wasn’t quite with us when she spoke.

“What?” said Gray.

“A call. I spoke to him.” She glanced over at us. “A few days before Christmas. He phoned. He wanted to know about the garage.” She was back with Jack. “How could he have phoned? And sick...” She seemed to search for something, nodded. “He sounded so sick and tired.”

I frowned. “Called?”

“I got texts,” said Greg to Elena as he stroked through Jack’s hair, “asking for cover for the garage, wishing me Happy Christmas, apologising that.... He said he was....” Greg stopped, looking sick. “Why didn’t I even question tha—?”

“From the look of Vince’s MO,” said Gray, “everyone who could have asked questions received various texts at just the right time, including Steve. I received a call off Jan—”

“No,” said Elena, quietly, and it was quick enough to bury my strangled cry over calling Gray. “I didn’t get texts.... Phone call. I got a call.” She looked at me and nodded. “A few days after I thought you two had gone away, he phoned.”

Elena looked at Jack. “He sounded exhausted,” she mumbled. “Like he’d just woken up, yet....” She stopped, went to say something else, stopped again.

“What?” said Greg.

Elena looked up. “He wanted you, luv.”

Greg’s hand seemed to lock in Jack’s hair.

“And the garage.” Elena distractedly reached over and rested a touch lightly on Greg’s. “He mumbled something about cover....”

Greg was struggling, I could see it on his face as he looked over at us. “Why? Why would he call? Why would he call and not say anything?”

“Do you remember what Jan said about the ketamine and psychological reconditioning?” Gray said quietly, and Greg nodded a little. “To make it more real for Jack, they could have given him access to a phone, and with the ketamine in his system, a drug that allows suggestive stimulation, planted both idea and topic to make the scene more real for him.”

Elena’s face creased. “They... they used me to... to...” Greg was suddenly by her, crouching and grabbing her in close. “Greg, Jack. He was....” Elena was crying. “Tired. He sounded exhausted, and quiet, like when he’d come out of his blackouts. Sleep, like he just wanted to sleep. Should have, I should have—”

“He’s asleep now, luv. He’s—” Greg was about to repeat himself, he saw it, I saw it, and he fell quiet, Elena pulled close as he stroked her hair.

“I’ll find who’s behind this,” said Gray, more to me than to anyone, and just then Greg looked back at him.

“Gray, I know you’re damn good at your job. Christ knows you got Jack to not only testify, but also change his dark outlook on life, and get away from Cutter’s head games,” he said flatly, “and I have no doubt at all that you’ll find whoever’s responsible before they do this to someone else.” Greg looked down at Jack. “But again, as far as Jack’s concerned, it’s too late.” He looked back at Gray. “Damage already done, boy cut to pieces.” He was fighting back tears. “So forgive me for hating the fuck out of you all of these years, but you go do what you’ve always done, you save the world for somebody else’s son. I’ll pick up and try to hold what’s left of mine.”

Gray’s jaw tightened, then he opened the door and left. After a look at Greg, I followed Gray out and managed to catch up with him, IV stand still in tow but seeming harder to push with each passing moment. “Gray.” Grabbing the cuff of his shirt, I backed him against the wall. “You focus,” I said coldly, hands running through his hair, body tight against his. “You put whatever you’re feeling aside, and you find the people who watched that. You make them hurt. No OCD, no worry over paperwork slotting into the right holes, you find them and you make them fucking hurt.”