Backlash

by Jack L. Pyke

  Dare followed Jan’s turn of ear to where he knew Trace and Jack would be. “No. Don’t interfere, Jan. For your own safety. Trace asked you to stay away.”

  “S’o... s’kay....” Jan was already pulling away and heading down the reception hall. Dare followed, and they passed the lounge, then a few more doors, finally coming to a stop when voices drifted through the fine wood and the hall beyond. Jan stood away from it, eyes closed, head down—listening.

  “Hey,” said Dare, giving a gentle stroke at Jan’s arm. “Not a good place, Jan. Please, just—”

  A thud came from behind the double doors. It took all of Jan’s focus hearing it. Shoulders were drawn back, breath barely given release as he listened, just waited, then—

  A cry came. Jack’s. It didn’t sound like Trace, and Craig didn’t seem the type to get involved. Another came, followed by a thud and a shout of, “Fuck” and—

  Jan’s first shoulder-slam made no impact, but his cry met Jack’s in the next breath, and this time the door whimpered and gave way. Dare didn’t even have time to take in who was doing what or where. Jan shifted through and made it onto the floor, to Trace, and he didn’t seem to draw breath as his rough shove sent Trace stumbling a few paces.

  Jack seemed to jolt, shout a warning, then scramble to his feet. “Hey, no. Easy.” He came between Trace and Jan, but Jan was already taking a swing at Trace. Trace had just enough time to push Jack away before catching a fist to his jaw for his efforts. Jan hit blindly and hardly even seemed to hunt for an apology before coming in for Trace again.

  This was different from the Jan that Dare had met in America, the shy, slender form he’d just seen cover himself in a huge towel to hide past hurt. He didn’t know this aggression. There was no rage, no anger, just the constant need for everything to...

  “Stop.” Jan shoved Trace back again, then again. Trace lost his footing and Jack’s warning cry went up as Jan moved in to crack Trace’s skull open with his boot. “Not so tough... not so fucking tough, you—”

  “Jan, no.” Jack moved the same time Dare did, but someone else brushed past Dare, making him startle. At first he thought Gabe, then Craig, but there was barely enough time to react to how Gray pushed Jack back, then shifted for Jan.

  Gray’s arm snaked Jan’s throat, the other his waist, then Jan was pulled around, away, and in the next moment he was forced out of the hall so quickly Dare was left with nothing to do but look at Trace... at Jack.

  Out in the hall, Jan cried out and Dare moved as a soft thud went up against the wall outside.

  Gray had Jan pinned against it, body pressed in close, but with a touch running down Jan’s jaw that cried tender brutality, one that Dare stopped himself from breaking up. Whispered words came as Jan tried to shake free. Then, as Gray pulled Jan in close with an arm circling his neck, Jan cried out and held on.

  “Stop. Need it to fucking stop.”

  “Easy, easy,” whispered Gray, although when he looked in the direction of the hall, the coldness made Dare want to slip back inside and pull the door closed with the biggest bolt the world could offer.

  “Jack.” That came from Gray. “Here. Fucking now.”

  Jack buffeted past Dare, and as he made it over to Gray, Gray pulled Jack the last few steps, into Jan. “You don’t fucking move from him. We clear?”

  Gabe came down the hall the same moment Gray pushed away from Jan, and the look that passed between Master Dom and Dom could have caused cold wars. Gabe eased Dare away from the door, from all the heat, as Gray pushed past into the hall, not saying a word.

  “On me,” said Gabe as Dare tried to follow Gray. “You let them deal now, and you stay with me. We clear?”

  Dare nodded, barely, which was just as well as he caught Trace wiping blood off his mouth. Gray’s vicious shove at Trace nearly sent him down again.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Trace steadied himself, uneasy seeing Gray. “Fucking hit me if you think it’ll make you feel any better, Gray. You—”

  Gray took Trace to the floor with a sweep of legs, and—

  “Don’t fucking push me, Trace,” snarled Gray as he controlled the fall with a grip at Trace’s collar. “I’m not Jan. I’m not Gabe. I’m not Jack. I hit you, Micah will be fucking nothing but a ghost from here on in.”

  Trace didn’t fight back, even though his hand was on the rough grip at the neck of his shirt. “Yeah. I know you’re hurting, bright eyes.” Quiet. “But Jack’s still stumbling from the last time you turned serious on him. And Jan... He’s struggling to hold on to reality because of it. Do you really want to go down this path again?”

  No sound came from the floor. After a moment, Gray eased back. Trace got to his feet and wiped at his jaw again, then looked at the blood on his sleeve, at Gray.

  “Five minutes,” said Gray, his tone seeming to sting Trace. “It’s more than I’d give anyone else for hurting him, Trace. You talk fucking fast.”

  “I’ll give you two words instead. For Jan.”

  All life drained out of Trace as Gray eased back a touch.

  “Nothing happened here,” Trace said gently. “Just a suggestion of something. But not for Jack, for Jan.” Trace went close to Gray. “Jack played this right. Like you, he asked Jan to say stop, to say no, because Jan so obviously didn’t want this to go down. We would have stopped then if he had just said no.” Anger was back in Trace’s eyes. “That could have been my boy on the floor. It could have been Gabe. It nearly was Jack.” Trace eased off. “As much as I’m here to help focus yours, I’m here for my kids too, Gray. I need to know they’re safe. From what I just saw, we’ve not even touched Jack yet—and mine are far from fucking safe.”

  Gray took a step closer. “Dangerous play, Trace. Done without me here, without my fucking permission—with my fucking sub, my fucking lover.” Craig got a look back too. “You agreed to this?”

  Dare had almost forgotten about the psychiatric nurse. The man hadn’t shifted and thick arms were still folded, case close to his feet. Gray got a shake of head.

  “I was here for Jack and Jan. I made it clear nothing happens here that could trigger Martin; it’s not ethical, it’s not safe. From what happened a few nights back, Jack’s not stable enough to consider a break like that. The sedative was for your guys there if I thought that any of them would breach Jack’s comfort zones by a fingernail. I didn’t know that they hadn’t cleared this with you.” His look was for Trace then. “I should have been told that.”

  “You wouldn’t have stood here if I had.”

  “No.”

  “Exactly.” Trace dismissed him at that. “Jack timed it, Gray. He timed it knowing you’d be here to intervene if something went wrong. But also timed it so he had some breathing space beforehand to focus on Jan without you pulling him back from handling him.” There was a lot of hurt in Trace’s eyes, and for the first time, Gabe shifted from Dare and went over to Gray, pulling something from his back pocket as he did.

  “Jack,” he called out, not looking back.

  Jack came into the hall, and Gabe held something out to Gray.

  “Put them on him, Gray.”

  Trace frowned at the cuffs. Gabe hadn’t brought any with him. So these were Gray’s. And from the look he gave as he glanced down, Gray recognised them.

  “Your grandfather cleaned your bedroom the last time Jack wore these.” Gabe glanced at Jan as Jan came into the hall. “Take them,” he said to Gray.

  Gray looked down, then reached and took the cuffs. For a moment he turned them over in his hands, feeling their weight, then he glanced across to Jack.

  Jack took a step forward, but in the same instant, Gray backed off with just the slightest movement.

  “Enough,” said Gabe, and he took the handcuffs back as Jan came over.

  “Gray?” Jan never looked so confused as he brushed a touch down Gray’s arm.

  “Yeah,” said Jack quietly. “I know I hurt you, mukka.”

  “You calle
d me here because you trust me.” Trace gripped the back of Gray’s neck and pulled his head to his. “You called my Doms here because you trust them, because you thought Jack trusted Gabe.” He kissed at Gray’s cheek. “Jack put Jan in our hands, Gray; he put you there too, and that’s something so much deeper. He knows this isn’t just about him. It’s about Jan—about you. Gabe was kept in isolation away from any negative influences on Jack, with Craig kept close because Jack trusts him to take him down if things did get pushed too far, also Jan. He also trusted you’d be here for the fallout. He anticipated Jan’s reaction, although it shocked the fucking life out of us both when Jan—”

  “Jack?” Jan shifted slightly. “You... you.... What the—” Jack came closer and Jan was all with him. “You... Martin... Trace said he’d trigger—”

  Jack’s face creased and he shook his head. “No, soft lad. I wouldn’t ever risk triggering Martin around you. And when you didn’t see through that, I wanted to see if you could say you needed it to stop before you went into this.” And the honesty there had Jan taking one step forward. “Afterwards... we got in a little rough and tumble, nothing more. Just some...” The smile there was so sad. “Cause and effect.”

  “Cause...” Jan sucked in a breath, took a step back. “Cause and fucking effect? You. You....” A hand went to his mouth. “Ah. You set me up?”

  “Not to hurt, Jan. To find your voice before it started to hurt.” Jack looked down, just briefly. “BDSM isn’t just about sex, soft lad,” Jack said quietly. “It’s about us. How it affects us as a triad. I needed to know how it would affect you because you damn well aren’t talking to anyone about how all of this is hurting you: you weren’t thinking for yourself and—”

  “Martin!” Jack flinched at Jan’s shout. “This wasn’t about BDSM—you fucking well said this—this—was about Martin, not BDSM.”

  Jack nodded. “How he tears at you, it’s about that gorgeous vanilla side of yours realising consent and safety isn’t just for kinksters,” he said. “It’s about you and—ah, fuck.” He had the wind knocked out of him as Jan pushed past. Jack tried to catch hold of his jumper, but Jan twisted viciously around, snapping his arm away.

  “No,” snarled Jan. “Not these head games. Not you, you fuck.”

  “Jan—” Jack wasn’t the only one who called Jan’s name as Jan shifted down the corridor.

  “Fuck,” cried Jack, hands on his head. “Fuckfuckfuck...”

  “You wanted a reaction,” said Gray, not taking his gaze off Jack. “You got one.”

  Chapter 25

  United Fall

  Jack caught up with Jan in a room known as the Oval. Just a few doors away from the hall, the Oval was insulated with specialist material that could scramble any listening device, giving Gray all the privacy he needed with MI5 work. It had an office desk, air conditioning, but no windows. The lights weren’t on inside, and the fading light only managed to help darken the festering shadows in there.

  Gray was forced to slow his own pace as Jack tried to grab at Jan’s sleeve again. It worked in part, but only because Jan spun around, pushing Jack viciously enough he ended up on his ass.

  “No.” Jan looked back at the door, at Gray, as if questioning why he’d penned himself into a corner. Then every part of heat and cold sweat was focused on Jack. “Stay away from me. This, you—sick. So fucking sick and—”

  Gray started for Jan, but a quick raised hand off Jack warned him back. “Listen, soft lad, you—”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Jan shouted, jerking Jack to a halt with his cry as Jack tried to get up off the floor. “Don’t.... Don’t make me fucking do this anymore, Jack. Please.”

  “Make you...?” Jack looked so puzzled as he stared up at Jan’s anger, then it infected his own. “I never make you do fucking anything, Jan. I needed to show you that you weren’t fucking acting for yourself, that you’re far from okay with any of this.”

  “Then why didn’t you look at me and ask me, you fuck? Why this? Why... this?” A tear streaked Jan’s face and Gray groaned, instinctively moving to try and stop the hurt.

  “No, not you. Not him,” snarled Jan. His look was back on Jack, and he closed the distance between them so quickly, looking ready to finish what he’d started with Trace, but now with Jack there on the floor. “Two weeks. For two fucking weeks I was chained away from you, watching you raped, hearing you struggle for breath as Vince nearly drowned you in a bath, seeing our worlds fall when they dropped Gray’s photo and wouldn’t let you touch, let you find comfort. It buried every part of me, Jack. But when they pulled you away, you bastard—when they locked the doors and it was only me, just listening... just waiting... not knowing what was going on... it stripped every part of my fucking soul. And you—” Grief came a little more freely now as he grabbed Jack close by the collar. “You did exactly the same just. You locked me away and all I could fucking do was think.”

  “Easy.” Gray needed to calm him down, but Jan’s focus was all on Jack.

  “You got to hide in the drugs. But me, I remember every... fucking... thing,” said Jan. “Do you know what it’s like to be able to remember every fucking thing, Jack? To not have the ability to forget all the whip marks and burning skin like you do, you bastard? Do you—”

  Jack scrambled up, pulling Jan into him, and Jan fought. When that failed and Jan tried everything in the world to twist away, Jack held tighter, his gaze not leaving Gray’s.

  “Yeah. I hurt you too, soft lad. I know.”

  “Out,” Jan said with heat in his voice. “I want fucking out now, Jack. Let me go. Let me go, please. Please just let me go, let me walk. Let me forget. I don’t want to feel it anymore. I don’t want to remember.” Jan pulled something out from his jean pocket. “It’s not working like it did. Remember... I remember everything. I need it to work again.... Make it work again... let me forget, please?”

  Jack slipped a look down as Jan rested his hand flat against his chest. He eased his hand under Jan’s, and a moment later, Jan offered the heroin vial over. As he did, Jan backed away. His back hit the wall, then he eased down to bury his head in his knees. “Breathe... I just wanted to breathe. Can’t breathe around you sometimes, Jack.”

  Giving a groan, Jack backed several steps away as Gray went over and crouched by Jan.

  “Hurts... so fucking much. I keep putting my life in both of your hands, but you, both of you—” Jan shrugged a tear. “—I thought I knew Jack, but with Logan... everything keeps shifting and changing, where the edges are filled with razor blades that keep cutting,.. fucking cutting and slicing through my ability to breathe. And you... you shift and changed just as much, only with no details, nothing to hold on to, Gray. Scared... I’m so fucking scared all the time, and there’s nothing to hold on to.”

  A sound came from the opposite wall as Jack slid down it and sat in much the same way Jan did.

  “I love his ass so much, Gray, you need to make him understand that.” A sleeve rubbed over a very tired face. “But there are too many times when I look at him, at you, and it’s like I’m trying to grasp at echoes that cry the same hurt back at me and pull away out of reach, back into secrecy. I don’t know you. I need to fucking understand who you are—because I’ve damn well lost everything I know about myself.”

  “Caenarfon,” said Gray, quietly, and Jan frowned at him. “It’s where I grew up. It’s a port in Gynedd, North Wales.”

  “I’ve... I’ve been to the Caenarfon Castle.” He looked confused. “It has a good mixture of medieval and Edwardian architecture. Great tourist place... really scenic.”

  Gray managed a smile “Avoid Harlech beach.... Too many jellyfish.”

  A sniff came from behind them. “Cariad,” said Jack. “He calls me it sometimes. Never clicked about the Welsh connection until recently. But I... I caught the name and fell in love with it.”

  Jan wiped at a tear as he looked around Gray to Jack. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Lover,” said Ja
ck.

  Gray eased down so that he knelt in front of Jan, knees slightly apart. “My father....” Gray rubbed at his head to ease his own hurt at looking at Jan and seeing that lost look. “He works for MI6, last I heard gathering intelligence for a ground operation in the battle for Kobani.” He looked down. “I’ve never known a man like him. Multilingual, so careful with leading others and subtly manipulating their decisions, and intuitive... perfect for MI6 despite his aristocracy.” He looked up. “He can blend and shift into obscurity like a hidden cell. In fact, one of his games as I grew up was to switch cars, don prosthetics, and carry an egg timer. If I didn’t locate him by the time it ran out, I walked home from school that day.” He gave a snort. “And in the Welsh valleys, that’s not such a good thing.”

  Jan gave a smile.

  “Did he teach you to fight?” That came from Jack.

  “My mother taught us both,” Gray said over his shoulder. “She brought out the best and worst in us all. They met at an MI6 Embassy Ball. She was the Staff Counsellor for the intelligence services, and he always joked about how everyone hid behind their champagne glasses around her because she knew all their secrets, fears, and fantasies.”

  Jack fell quiet for a moment. “Yet you don’t talk to them? You never talk about them, about your youth.”

  Gray wiped at his mouth. “No, no I don’t.” He looked at Jan. “At twelve, I’d been forced into the Army Cadets and was supposed to be on an orienteering course. But it was one weekend I didn’t want to spend away, not with my father due home a few days later. I didn’t know he’d planned to come home early that day and spend some time with my mother. He’d been away for a month, and the calendar in the servant’s kitchen always had the exact time he’d arrive. So I thought I’d make sure everything was in order for when he got back.”

  He caught Jack’s soft snort. “I have control issues, Jack; I’m aware of that,” he said with a trace of a smile. “I’d spent most of my life looking up to my father. Such a strong-minded man, but stronger in body, in how he made home safety a priority...” He let that trail off. “Yet when I got home, I found him bound and on his knees at my mother’s feet.”