Don't... 04 Backlash (27 page)

It was a good
place. It wasn’t only for Jack’s and Jan’s sanity that he’d asked
Jack to get his head out of his ass and stop Gray selling this
place. Good memories lived here. Damn good people.

The fountain
off to the right seemed to chatter low agreement with him, and the
familiarity had Trace breathing in deep, taking in the old and new
scents. It was still in the air: the fading burnt wood and smoke
from the fireworks from the UK’s Bonfire night. It seemed to last
the whole month, bringing with it jacket potatoes wrapped in foil
that had been on slow bake for hours, butter, cheese and beans
fillings, or chili con carne. Burgers and onions were a favourite
here, so too were hotdogs, but Trace had loved the hot pork,
stuffing, and apple sauce “baps”. There had been a few bonfire
night parties here, Gray always so open and honest once you got in
his head.

“You okay?”
Gabe’s touch on Trace’s arm brought the right distraction.

“Yeah,” said
Trace, and he’d meant that.

“You could have
invited Micah.”

Trace had seen
Jan’s photo, what they’d done to Jan in that bathroom. “No,” he
said gently. “Micah’s safer at home.” Trace could stand a threat to
himself, but not to his own sub and one who still reeled from his
kid’s death.

As they reached
the entranceway, the door pulled open and a familiar face
brightened the fall evening. “Ed.”

Ed ignored the
hand that Trace offered over and Trace found an arm wrap his
shoulder and pull him in. Ed kept him there for a while, the hold
seeming bone-weary by each passing minute.

“You here to
talk some sense into my grandson?” he heard whispered in his ear.
“And you didn’t stop by and show me the courtesy of a hello when
you were here a month ago.”

Ah. If Ed knew.
Stands to reason Gray would have known he was here too.

“Gray carries a
gun and has no sense around Jack or Jan.” Trace kissed at the old
man’s cheek, then pulled back. “And sorry about not stopping by
last time. It was only a short visit.” He shifted his head towards
the noise and low conversation behind him. “This is Gabriel Hunter
and his partner, Darrek Grealey.”

Ed shook their
hands, offering that warm smile he’d first greeted Trace with.
“Come on, you must be tired after the flight.”

“Kill for a
coffee,” said Gabe, reaching down to take the case that Ed reached
for. “I got these, sir.”

“Manners,” said
Ed as he opened the door to let them past. “Please teach Jack some
where it doesn’t involve any morphological inventiveness
surrounding the words ‘fuck’ and ‘you’.”

Gabe and Dare
looked at each other and choked out a laugh. Trace buried his as
movement from behind Ed, back in the reception hall, caught his
eye.

Jack and Jan
made their way down the stairs, Jan a few steps in front, Jack
trying to grab onto his arm, looking more than concerned that Jan
would fall. Jan stumbled a little quicker and shrugged away from
Jack. The half-drunk intent there said he wasn’t coming over to the
door for any meet and greet session.

“Problem?” said
Trace, and Jan jerked to a halt halfway across the reception hall
floor.

With the back
of his hand finding Gabe’s arm, Trace made sure Gabe didn’t move
from the door. Jan looked ill, to the point he could barely keep
straight and stop grabbing at his stomach. A cold sweat kept his
brow company, and every now and again, he’d shake as though the
draft from the open door kissed every inch of his spine. “Trace.”
Jan looked back at Jack, then past Trace, to the door. “Just...
walk. I nuh-need a walk.”

Trace shifted
as Dare came in.

Dare put the
case down and went over to Jan. “You....” Giving a serious frown,
he pulled Jan’s look up to meet his. “Jan, what’s going on?” Dare
had come from a vanilla lifestyle just as Jan had. His look and
hold said everything about knowing how out of depth that made them
feel; it had back when Jan had met Dare in America. They’d clicked
almost instantly, with Dare stepping out of his sub role to shake
Jan’s hand. He’d pissed Jack off doing that, those rules of the
MC’s foremost in Jack’s fist and head. Jack hadn’t been in the
frame of mind to really study the Dom file he’d been given, and the
mistake was there with thinking Dare was the Dom, especially with
his more manual-labour-worked frame. And for a Dom to step forward
and touch Jan.... Gray had allowed Gabe the space to handle Jack’s
mistake. Every Dom had their own guidelines over approaching their
sub, and Jack had crossed the line with Dare, not having read the
file and staring down Gabe’s sub.

Only there was
no lines to be crossed now, just worry. Dare had no doubt seen what
Trace had, what kept Gabe quiet now. Jan had changed; his frame was
slimmer, skin pasty and white, bones looking stiff, painful to move
and....

Jan went into
full-on shivering, and Jack slowed his pace on the stairs, giving
Dare and Jan all the space they needed.

“You sick?”
said Dare, moving in a little closer.

“Flu....” Jan
gritted his teeth. “Just.... fuh-fuh-flu, I think.” He looked down
and gripped a hold on Dare’s arm to steady himself. Everything
about what he just said cried bullshit to Trace. That wasn’t flu.
Jan knew it, so too did Dare. He rubbed at Jan’s shoulders,
glancing concern back at Trace, then finding Jan again as Jack
looked away and widened his walk around them.

“No walk
outside, then,” said Dare. Jan went to push past, but Dare squared
his body a little more. “No walk outside.”

“I’m good. I’m
fine.” Yet as Jan spoke, Dare guided him backwards to sit on the
steps. Jan hissed as he was forced to sit, and a moment later, he
gripped his stomach again as Dare took off his jacket and wrapped
it around Jan’s shoulders.

Jack stopped
next to a painting, hands digging deep into his front pockets,
shaking in his own right but focused all on Jan’s. Again warning
Gabe to stay where he was, Trace kept his heavy boot on tile,
light, wary of disturbing Dare’s low talk to Jan, as he went over
to Jack.

“You wanna
start talkin’?” he said in a hushed voice, his focus on how lowered
Jack kept his look. Jack went to say something, even looked at
Trace, then an arm hooked around Trace’s neck, and Jack pulled him
in close.

It startled
Trace. The last time they’d met, they’d nearly been up to fighting,
especially when Martin decided to join the party. But now.... Trace
slipped his arms around Jack’s waist. “Well, this is... scary.”

When Jack
pulled back, he looked as bone-weary as Ed, and the wipe of hand
over face caught whatever verbal struggles he’d been calling out
lately.

“For a guy who
still has a girl’s name, I suppose it would be,” said Jack, gently.
“You okay, Trace—”

“You add ‘Y’ to
that, you’re fucked, peaches. Again.”

Jack finally
eased into a more natural smile, better times, no doubt better
memories, and the need to seemingly hold onto it surprised
Trace.

“So what’s
going on, Jack?” Trace looked over at Jan. “What the hell have we
missed?” Footsteps behind him drew Trace’s attention, and he caught
Gabe’s wary look over at Dare, for Dare.

“Gabe.” Jack
seemed to stall. He looked really uncomfortable now. “You... you
okay to be here?”

Gabe went to
reply, then jostled Trace slightly as he pulled Jack in. “You’ve
changed, Jack.” Gabe’s tone was hard. He shifted back a moment
later. “Not sure that I like it.”

Jack looked a
little more relaxed, as though each touch handed him back something
he was missing. “You still need to borrow a stepladder to neck
Goliath over there?”

“Neck?” Gabe
frowned at Trace. “Translation just in case it’s not what I think
it is?”

Trace was
distracted. “Kiss,” he mumbled quietly. Over by the lounge, Gray
had come in and now rested against the doorframe. He looked over,
but his concentration was on the stairs.

“Jan. Back
upstairs, please.” Gray’s voice was quiet, but it carried through
the reception hall.

Jan’s smile was
so easy then. It took all of the colour from Jack with how it was
all for Gray. “I... walk.” He tried again. “Just needed a walk.
Was—wuh-when did you get back?” There was a lot of relief
there.

“Fifteen
minutes ago.” The gentleness in Gray’s voice surprised Trace. “You
said you needed a walk?”

“Just....” Jan
itched at his neck, his face, then wiped a shirt sleeve over his
brow. “Breathe. Need to... to just breathe.”

Dare put his
arm around Jan and rubbed some warmth into his shoulders.

Trace
gave Jack a kiss on the head, then gently shifted him aside. He
made a point of stopping by Jan and bending to whisper
Hello,
kid
, before he made
Gray his sole focus.

“Sut mae?” he
said, keeping his voice low, and the ghost of a smile that came off
Gray caused Trace to stumble.

“You need to
practice those phonetics, Trace.”

Frowning, Trace
reached a hand to Gray’s neck and pulled him in. There was no
resistance, no pull away, just... the need to rest his head.
Trace’s look back at Jack saw no jealousy from Jack, just
deep-rooted worry, and Trace nodded that they were all right.
Although those photos of Jan seemed to be more than taking its toll
with Gray.

“Gabe okay with
the contract?” he heard Gray mumble against his neck.

Trace shifted,
then drew back sharply when he felt Gray wince. As Trace kissed
Gray’s cheek, he caught how Gray gripped his hip.

“Getting old?”
said Trace, raising a brow.

“Work wound
yesterday,” said Gray, and again Jack glanced over.

Trace left that
one there. “Gabe’s good. He’s a little confused, since he’s the
first to admit he’s no psychologist, but he sees why the MC and
their Doms would be a hard choice for Jack. He knows why you can’t
risk Jack walking for the next few days.”

“What did you
tell him?” He sounded so tired.

“Everything.
They both needed to know before they agreed.” Trace glanced back
again, at how Jack kept his talk low to Gabe as he watched Jan. The
talk seemed serious, no doubt with Gabe feeling Jack out for
himself. “He still came,” Trace added. “They both did.”

Gray kept
watching Jan. Something had shifted his concern away from Jack, and
all the focus was back on who sat on those stairs.

Trace looked
Jan up and down. “What’s he taking?” He kept his voice low.

“Substitute for
heroin,” said Gray. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

That made Trace
frown as he glanced at Jan. “I’m not even questioning how yet, but
he knows something’s wrong, and he isn’t saying,” he mumbled, and
Gray nodded.

“Get everyone
settled. We’ll talk properly later.”

“West wing?”
asked Trace.

“I have staff
to handle the cases. Just... you take it easy, Trace.”

“I know I’m
old, but I can still manage to lift a case or two.” Trace looked
Gray over. “When was the last time you ate and managed to keep
something down? You’ve lost weight.” The suit still tailored his
maturity damn well, it always had, but even the fine cut to the
Westwood couldn’t hide how the call had gone through to order a
drop in size. The stubble, sculpted with the same precision, was a
distraction, and—“Look’s good. Next thing I know, you’ll be trading
those fast rides in for one of my Harleys.”

Gray flicked a
look at Jan... Jack.

“Yeah, I know,”
said Trace. “You like life in the fast lane, with room for two
passengers.” He glanced over his shoulder too. “I’m really up for
finding out who’s still trying to fuck that up for you.” He looked
at Gray. “Seventy-two hours... now down to forty-eight. How close
are you to finding those missing codes?”

“There’s been
some... complications.”

Trace figured
they surrounded Jan with how exhausted Gray looked. “Then you bring
me up to speed with those, and we find a way to keep Jack and Jan’s
heads down and away from any trouble over the next few days. Your
priority is those codes. Clear?”

Next morning,
the sounds of plate on plate and low chatter from the kitchen table
distracted Trace as a mug of early-morning coffee burned heat
through into his hands. It had surprised the hell out of him when
Ed had reached up into the cupboard and pulled it out. The
larger-than-life mug had been a gift from Gray years back, one of
those quiet jokes where the suggestion of a long night ahead came
with a big mug of coffee and enough fine food full of high calorie
burners that said Trace would last a week under Gray. He doubted Ed
knew the significance, and as Ed took a seat next to him, Trace was
with Jack when it came to ducking out of the discussion before
things got too cheek burning.

Speaking of
which, Jack came padding through, scratching at his head, but
seemed to stop when he saw Jan look up. There was confusion from
Jan, one that questioned which demon had just walked through the
door, and Jack seemed to run with the need to keep the waters calm
for him.

“I’ll...” He
thumbed behind him. “I’ll catch something later—”

“Jack,” said
Gray, gently. “Sit down.”

“
No.” His
focus was on Jan, how Jan wiped a shaky hand across his lips and
nearly stood. “It’s okay, you lot eat.” Which no doubt meant
Jan, for God’s sake, eat.
I’ll give you all the space you need until you’re
ready.
“I have some
work on in the garage anyway.”

It was quiet as
they watched Jack head out back the way he’d come. It had been the
same last night, with Jack giving Jan not so much a wide berth, but
just... space. The Detox program that Gray had sorted with Doctor
Halliday, and no doubt making sure the dealer complied with, was
hitting hard. But that didn’t explain why Jan seemed more focused
on his own hands.