Don't... 04 Backlash (14 page)

Jack ran a
touch along his jaw, giving whatever sign he needed to the black
Merc sitting outside.

That was fine;
Logan only needed a few minutes to do this before Raoul came
in.

“Upstairs,
yeah?” Jack eyed him up as he moved over to a door next to the
reception desk, and held it open, waiting for him to take the
hint.

Making sure the
coffee found a home with Sue and thanking her for the offer, he
went through first, then waited for Jack to lead the way up to his
office.

Maybe he
expected more, but this place, Jack’s office as he entered, it
wasn’t what he expected. He’d thought... bigger, better, especially
considering whose silk sheets Jack supposedly warmed, but the
company was modest at best. None of Raoul’s arrogance that he’d
heard about was here, no ego, just a heavy tiredness in grey eyes
that worked for an honest pay packet.

So
all of that shit, just for your look?

Jack didn’t
take a seat, instead resting against the window sill and crossing
his arms. His look was half distracted outside, yet he seemed to
know the exact place of everything in his office, or what was out
of place, especially men who shouldn’t be in here.

But by not
looking, guilt was there in his eyes too. And that was what Logan
needed to see.

“I’m busy,
Logan,” said Jack. “You want to make this quick?”

Logan snorted a
smile and went a little closer to Jack’s office desk. “Yeah. It
wasn’t made quick for my father, Jack. Did you get to hear about
that?”

Jack looked at
him. “Your old man died?” The confusion made Logan stumble in his
thoughts seeing it. “My deepest condolences to you, yours, and all
that bollocks.”

Logan kept his
eyes on that black Merc outside, then checked his watch. He was
surprised Raoul hadn’t shown up yet. “My father,” he said quickly,
quietly, going around the office desk to Jack. “He had a bullet
through his forehead.” Logan eased a finger up and pushed at Jack’s
forehead, forcing Jack to twist his head away, then level a very
cool gaze back on him. That look, Logan needed it, needed to see
it. “He’d had his dick exposed and his balls had been burned.”

No
reaction.

Logan shifted
slightly. “After he was tied to a chair, a lighter had been held
against his side and it had burned the skin. He was fucking
tortured, Jack.”

The occupants
in the black Merc outside never moved. It riled Logan. He expected
Raoul here. He’d wanted Raoul... here.

“His own home.”
Logan was close enough to breathe in Jack’s face, disturb that long
black hair nearly covering his eyes. He smelled so good. “And
you...”

Jack dug his
hands into his pockets, but didn’t shift that gaze.

“I know it
wasn’t you,” whispered Logan. “You’re no fucking killer, Jack. A
thug, yeah, but no killer. How my father was taken out.” Logan
screwed his face, biting back his tears. He’d never spent much time
with his father; always some issue at the night club, some bird or
guy to try and fuck. Just not enough time to sit and talk. “They
called it a professional hit. Why the fuck would anyone put a hit
out on my father? He—”

“We done?”

Logan grabbed
Jack by the throat, pushing him back into the wall. Jack jolted and
the reaction cooled Logan, but only for a minute when he was left
grabbing nothing but air as Jack shoved him off.

There was no
aggression there in Jack’s body language and the look in grey eyes
didn’t call him out on trying anything else. What was there
unsettled Logan more; a confidence over knowing Logan would hit the
floor first if Logan made another move. The thrill it caused
confused the hell out of Logan, and he took a step back and said as
calmly as possible, “That fuck of an MI5 officer you know. He knows
something. I was told he knows... everything.”

“Brennan?”

“What?” said
Logan, feeling as confused as Jack looked now.

“Brennan,” said
Jack. “Wasn’t he leading the murder investigation from CID? It was
all over the news.”

“No,” replied
Logan, frowning. Something about Jack’s look said he knew exactly
who was investigating what. Maybe. “You, he... Raoul. Gray Raoul
from MI5. I was told—”

“Wrong,” said
Jack, levelling his gaze as a knock came at the door. “Come in.”
Jack didn’t take his gaze off Logan. “Shaun Brennan is leading the
investigation as far as I know. Now get the fuck out and take your
shit over to him.”

Logan eased
back as a young lad, looking young enough to be on work placement,
came in.

“Coffee, Mr H?”
said the blond, and Logan took a step away as he came over, not
carrying any coffee. “And isn’t it time your client... fucked off?
Your dog died, again. You’re needed elsewhere.”

“Thanks, Sam.
And yes it is. Thanks for the reminder,” said Jack. Logan caught
the look off “Sam,” how he seemed to make a point of looking over,
then folded his arms.

“Well fuck off,
then,” said Jack.

Logan slipped a
look at Jack, then Sam. “Thanks for agreeing to look at my Jag,
Jack. But I think I’ll take it elsewhere.”

“Good idea.”
Jack’s hand shook a little and Logan nodded, satisfied. He needed
that to get back to Raoul where his own lawyers had failed. Jack’s
look seemed genuine enough, but Kes... he trusted him. And if he
could get Raoul to slip up, even if it meant going through this
Jack, he would.

“Talk in a few
hours,” said Logan, turning away after a smile. “You keep well,
Jack.”

Logan made a
point of closing the door behind him. It was a letdown that Raoul
hadn’t come as Kes’s phone call this morning had hinted he would,
but Jack...

Get at Jack,
then get at the nutcase who had killed his father.

Gray sat in his
Rolls, watching as Logan walked away from the garage, his umbrella
tossed to one side and hood pulled back as the rain hit him. A
Sedan pulled up at the entrance to the car park, the move bold as
balls, and a check saw it to belong to one of Logan’s bouncers at
his club. Logan added to the boldness by striding over to it and
glancing back. He was nothing like his father, Ryan Keal. Keal
offered the perfect deception to his night life: the grandfather to
cling onto before he sold you off to the highest bidder. Logan held
no deception. Legs were long, the sort used to mounting Harleys.
Jeans were tight, calling out a look Gray would usually consider
testing at the MC. Jack had been right; when they’d all came back
from America, he’d said Logan was the looker in the family. Logan
was also as oblivious as Jack as to just what went down away from
the bed sheets.

Guilt
almost—almost—crept up as Gray ran a hand over the steering wheel.
Touching the bad, there were always those in the background who
were caught in the backlash. Logan was after a reason behind why
his father was murdered. A son needing release over a father, with
someone pushing for it.

He looked at
the garage as the Sedan pulled away.

Guilt only went
so far when it came to what was in there.

Gray eyed up
the rain, how heavy it fell. The repair truck took his attention,
too, how the recovery man was oblivious to how he’d been played.
Ray had done his job by checking the plates; they’d checked out,
but only to the point where a name and address was given. A deeper
check easily saw the forgery.

Sloppy in
planning. Or maybe not.

Someone was
pushing Logan to find a breaking point, digging deep into old
wounds and bleeding out the hurt.

Gray eased out
of the car.

Gray’s culling
signature could have been recognised by anyone who knew the
business, but now Logan had been told that Jack was involved. And
the only ones left to talk about Jack and Jan’s rape and
psychological reconditioning were those who had funded it. Which
meant those who had pushed for SSTP’s investigation came with a
rapist’s touch.

Turning his
collar up to the wind and rain, Gray didn’t acknowledge Ray over in
the black Merc, but headed over to the garage and pushed inside.
Sue wasn’t there, and he got a look up from Aid. The man didn’t
like him, but that was okay. That kept people wary when they needed
to be. It showed as Aid eased up out of his chair and nodded toward
the shop floor. Ray hadn’t been the only one to call Gray this
afternoon.

Gray tipped his
head. After shifting past the other busy mechanics, he stopped Jack
by easing a grip around the top of Jack’s arm and pulling him up to
his feet. Sam worked by him and gave a look up as Jack jerked
back.

“Upstairs,”
said Gray.

Jack wiped at
his cheek, leaving a smear of grease, then moved over to wash his
hands. Gray watched, just... waited as it took three turns with the
Antibacterial hand wash.

Jack glanced
back as he dried his hands. “No. Not upstairs. Out,” he said, and
Gray frowned as he watched Jack throw the towel on the unit and
head toward reception. Jack was slipping on his jacket by the time
Gray got there, and he caught Jack’s last words to Aid.

“You sure
you’re fine shutting up shop?”

“We’ve been
fine for the past six months, Jack,” said Aid. “Steve’s over at the
Strachan garage, working with that Paul from your dad’s garage.
They gave the manager that position on the proviso that he flirt
between both garages when needed.”

Jack offered a
smile, but it wasn’t easy. “Okay, good.”

“C’mon, we’re
going.” Gray went over to the door and held it open. Jack didn’t
seem to need telling twice, and that run with being told to do
something was more concerning than seeing his usual kickback
against authority.

“No worries,”
said Aid, already going over to the phone. Gray knew he’d get a
call from Greg in a while because of it.

Jack was
already out of the door and heading over to the Rolls. Gray joined
him and made sure Jack took the passenger seat. Gray’s look around
the car park was long as he held the door open. There was no doubt
on being watched now.

The driver’s
side took him, and Gray pulled the door shut and started the
engine.

“
Talk to
me, Jack,” he said as he pulled away. “You gave the sign to hold
off. You gave Ray the sign for
me
to hold off when I got here.” Gray knew why. He’d bugged
Jack’s office long before he started back, but he’d never tell Jack
that. This was for his protection, as was Jan’s at his
office.

Jack ran a hand
through his wet hair and Gray caught how it shook. He flicked a
switch, making sure the heat took away the chill of the air and the
drowned rat look of Jack.

Did
you look like this that night it had been snowing? When you walked
and Jan had picked you up by the side of the road, had you fought
to stay warm then, stunner? And after... how much did you both
shiver when you were alone and hurting?

Gray fought the
need to be sick.

“Someone fed
Logan information that we knew each other.” Jack blew into his
hands. “If they had definite evidence, he wouldn’t have been there
with me. You know why I told you to hold off, Gray.”

Smart, fucking smart.
“He made a definitive mention about outside
sources?”

Jack nodded.
“He said he had a call this morning, or someone had called him, at
least.” Jack rubbed at his head.

Gray looked at
him. “You okay?”

He snorted a
smile, but it faltered too quickly.

“He touch
you?”

“I’m not a
fucking ponce, Gray.” The anger was there as Jack glanced at him.
“I can handle a roughing up.”

“He fucking
touched you.”

“I can—”
Whatever kickback Jack was coming up with faded as he eased back
into his seat and gave an unsteady breath. Twice now he’d cut off
his own anger, twice now he’d cooled it, took a step back,
and—“Scared, alright? Enough that I just.” He shrugged, then—“I
want things shutting down for a few hours, is all.”

“Okay.” Not a
problem.

“Why now?” said
Jack, looking over. Then he glanced in the rear-view mirror, to the
black Merc keeping the Rolls company. “What do you know that you’re
not telling me, Gray?”

Gray tensed
slightly. “Some encrypted codes were discovered in your mother’s
paperwork,” he said keeping his voice even. “A few days ago, Logan
tried to open up the investigation into Ryan Keal’s death.”

“Officially
through MI5?”

Gray nodded and
Jack gave an unsteady exhale. “It was sorted,” Gray added.

“Enough for
Logan to come after me to get to you.” It was a simple statement,
no resentment there, just concern, and that dug into Gray more.

“Yeah. I know
that look, mukka,” said Jack, and a hand rested distractedly on
Gray’s thigh. “You can’t touch Logan for this now, not without
helping to point bloodied fingers in your direction.” Jack fell
quiet. “But you mentioned these codes.... You think it’s more to do
with that than taking you down?”