by Jack L. Pyke
“You’re a bastard, Gray.” Someone stroked at his back. “But you’re not cold enough to let Sam pay the price for this. And I know your instinct is there to get those MI6 ops to safety too.” Gray rested his head against the cool tile of the bathroom, wiping blood away from his mouth, and Trace came in close. “You broke Jack before,” he said quietly. “You did it and you got him back.” There was a lot of kindness there in the hold around his waist. “You got that mouthy shit to calm and testify against Cutter, and after you woke Martin, you made him appear a few times during the court case in order to show the judges just how much damage had been done, and you still got Jack back after all of that.” Quiet. “What about when you first met Martin? You made him face what he’d done to Jack’s dad over the years and you still got him back.”
“I had to fucking burn Martin out of him, Trace.” Gray groaned and nearly lost his stomach’s contents again at the smell of burning skin. “Love them both so much....”
“Yeah, I know.” A rub came at Gray’s back. “I see that. So you do what you need to before that kid in the photo gets to go through what Jack and Jan have. You worry about Jack, you worry about Jan, and you keep focus on how Jack’s hiding behind anything that Martin can throw up.”
Gray pulled away, giving a wipe at his nose... fingertips then to his eyes.
“Sam won’t be touched until tomorrow.”
“Can you be sure of that?” said Trace.
Gray eased around and Trace shifted back, handing him a towel. “Yeah, because it’s what I’d do. Killing Sam now leaves too much scope for thoughts on running. So he’ll be kept alive to keep us grounded here. I’ll put in place a missing person’s with MI5 and Brennan’s department. They will do what they can to try and trace Sam’s last footsteps. They might hit something.”
“But you doubt it.” Trace checked Gray’s face, wiping beneath his eye. “How the photo was set up, it looks like standard ransom terrorist activity.”
Gray shook his head. “He’s just making a point that there will be an execution come the end of tomorrow. The writing was in English on the wall.”
“So what do you want to do?”
Gray looked out towards the swimming pool, how tired he was of drowning. “One night,” he said quietly. “If I lose Jack... if I lose Jan through what I do to Jack... then I lose having held them my way.”
Trace stopped him before Gray pulled away. “You need to see a doctor. That’s blood there.”
Gray rested his head against Trace’s. “I need time with them, Trace, nothing more. If I lose them after tonight, then this time I lose with them knowing exactly how I goddamn feel about them.”
Chapter 31
Final Moments
Jack and Jan looked confused with the polite request off Gray to get dressed, but after Gray took something out of the safe in his study, Gabe was the one who took the longest to get dressed. He came jogging down the stairs, tucking himself in as Trace raised a brow. “Did you find Gray’s photography studio and you needed... time alone with the equipment?”
Gabe chuckled. “I haven’t gotten laid properly in days. The size of this place, you’d think we’d manage to find somewhere, equipment or no.”
Dare grinned over, earning a ghost of a smile off Jan as he stood talking to Jack in the reception hall. Jack seemed a little more detached, but whatever Jan whispered in his ear kept bringing him back. Jan occasionally conducted his soft conspiracy with a rub to Jack’s arm, and lure him an inch closer into Jan because of it. The last time they’d been seen together, news over Martin being in the same office space as Jan had nearly torn them up, but now it looked like the worry over Kate and Martin wasn’t being allowed to come between them, despite how Jan still looked ill enough to let the slightest cough take him off his feet.
Gabe had a couple of things in his hand: one a black Beanie hat, which he slipped on and complemented his black V-neck T-shirt perfectly. The tight fit of the latter, baggy jeans, and good-sized belt accentuated his slim hips. As Jack held the door open for everyone, Gabe shrugged on a jacket, then looked a little frustrated when the package he held wouldn’t fit in his pocket. Jack tossed him his Merc keys, too, which didn’t seem to help either. “You’re driving. Can you handle batting for the other side... of the road?”
Gabe waggled his eyebrows, the corner of the package now held between his teeth. “You know where we’re going yet?” he managed to mumble.
“Just ‘out.’” Jack glanced back as Gray and Jan headed for the Rolls-Royce. “It’s what I was told, anyway.” Jack found car keys thrown in his direction off Gray.
“You’re up front too, stunner. No playing dodge’ems with Gabe on the way in.” Gray winked over. He’d changed into a suit, having asked Jack to wear something loose, Jan a suit. The “asked” part had been interesting to Trace, especially the soft colour to Gray’s cheek when he’d spoken to them in the bedroom. But that same quiet blush and something else seemed to catch Jack’s eye as he looked Gray up and down. Giving a frown, he headed over and reached up to Gray’s collar.
Trace saw Jack tug a necklace free. For a moment Jack just watched it play in his fingers, twisting the black rope, then running his fingers over a silver cross with a smaller black cross nestled neatly on top.
“Bad memories?” asked Gray.
Jack shook his head and his faint smile was soft. “I remember the alley, the bastard that made me lose it, the man it let me see....” Jack cast a look at Gray. “We started there. So looks good. Looks damn good there, Gray.” He let the black rope necklace rest back against Gray’s throat, then eased in and kissed at his neck, one below the necklace, one above, both the look of a sub seeing his Dom wear a public display of being in an exclusive relationship with his sub.
Trace didn’t understand the relevance, but it must have meant something to all three of them as Jan was lost to his long look over at Jack and Gray, gaze looking calmer, sharing something that spoke of better memories, or maybe rebuilding damage.
Jack kissed Gray’s lips, making it hard and rough enough to leave Gabe raising a brow at Trace, then Jack pulled away, looking reluctant, but adding back to Gray as he came over to them—
“You’re driving on the way back, mukka.” He slipped on a jacket, then stopped as he saw Gabe dance around a little, trying to find a pocket to put the package in.
“Could you keep this for me, Jack?” Gabe hardly gave Jack much choice as the package slapped into his chest.
“You want me to hold your skirt up for you, too, Daisy, just whilst you make it over to the car? It’s raining a little this evening.”
“You need to see if I’m wearing tights too, Jack? Kinky.”
“Hey, I wear them because—”
“Oh no,” said Trace, trying to pull Gabe towards the Merc, “you can’t use that excuse anymore. You’re father said he knew nothing about any tights.”
Jack frowned over at him and Trace nearly froze. Greg had been brought to the manor an hour ago and Trace wouldn’t have pinned him as Jack’s dad. If anything, he had the look he’d associated to Gray’s: standoffish, taking time to absorb where he was, who he was with, yet quick to shake a man’s hand and offer a smile with it once he judged you were safe. Jack seemed at ease in anything he put on: coveralls, jeans, naked... Greg looked bred into a suit. He didn’t have Jack’s look, his finery, and he guessed that came from Jack’s mother, but his eyes... they were Jack. They had also been searching solely for Jack before Ed had whisked him away to find Gray. Afterwards, they’d both looked like they’d fought from their corners, with words their only defence and attack when it came to triggering Martin. Tired. Both had looked so weighed down with a tiredness that had followed them for years. And to ease the mood, Trace had asked about the tights that Jack wore. Only Greg hadn’t got a clue what he was talking about.
“Well, I bet it’s what your father would say, Jack,” he tried to recover quickly as Gray flicked a look over. “We could always give him a call to fi
nd out?”
“What? No!”
Even Jan looked back over to Jack, a smile creeping to his face. “It... I mean... they... they just stop my jeans rubbing the scar on my hip,” Jack said softly and Gabe looked up hearing it. Trace caught the honesty, so too did Gabe, and he patted Jack’s stomach.
“Look after that package,” Gabe said just as softly. Jack rattled it against his ear, but from the sound of it, whatever was inside had thorough packaging, keeping it quiet. “You can have the bubble wrap to pop once it’s opened, okay?”
“Aw, presents. For me?” Jack slipped the package in the front pocket of his loose-fitting jeans, now looking and sounding more himself. Time out with Jan had done him good, but then Trace knew that away from the drugs, Martin, and every other complication, they were always good for each other.
“For Ben, a friend,” said Gabe, shaking his head at Jack before moving to the Merc. “I need to mail it.”
“In the dark? Hate to mention this, mate, but the Post Office shuts at five.”
“You’ll understand when we make it to where Gray’s taking us.” Gabe let Dare get in the back, then climbed in the front. Trace joined him in the passenger side.
“You know we have people who could post that for you.” Jack came and crouched down by him.
“I have legs.”
“Aye, short ones, that can barely reach the adult section at the photography shop without a leg-up from Goliath in the back. How the fuck do you get a ceiling hoist working on him?”
Dare leaned forward. “Skill.”
“Steroids,” added Jack.
Gabe winked at him. “You know I’ve got your car here?”
“To winch Dare up? Now we’re talking kink. You thought of using a 4x4 instead?”
Trace saw Gabe shake his head, then shut the door. “Always the mechanic.” He put his foot on the gas and chewed up some gravel. Trace only just about heard Jack’s cry of “Tyres,” before he let the handbrake go.
Jack was left arms wide open and helpless.
“Aw, look, no hoist even needed,” said Trace over to Gabe. “Impressive.”
Gabe just grinned.
“Okay.” Gabe shifted next to Trace and nudged his arm, drawing some attention from the line of Masters and Master subs over by the conference table. “Now I’m officially impressed.”
It was getting late, closer to the time where Regent Manor would usually be shutting down for the night and getting ready to switch on night time surveillance with the Doms and subs training in the field. Looking at ease with being back around MC property crew, Jack had taken some time out to show Gabe and Dare around, introducing them to Mike and his surveillance crew and IT lounge. Trace saw mostly new faces, some old, and the latter he spent some time catching up with. It was good to see Gabe take in the scope of the government-funded organisation. Back home, Diadem had a couple of dungeons with the rare stream feed through to the internet. Here, no feeds went beyond the security teams who kept a close monitor on homes and various business spots when psych-play training would incorporate the work environment too. Trace could see MI5s influence in the surveillance department, even down to the planted listening tech... Gray would be in his element overseeing the schematics to these setups, and Trace wondered how many secrets he’d picked up on those long observation nights. Gray wasn’t the sort to switch off easily.
Gabe’s gaze had started to dull with the hard look at surveillance, but after seeing lecture rooms for more formal tutoring, how the trainees had plenty of ways to relax with gyms, games’ halls, even tennis and basketball courts, not to mention sleeping quarters for those Doms in between training, or for ex-servicemen given rooms off the streets...
“Impressive,” said Gabe, now they found themselves in the Masters’ main conference hall.
“Yeah.” Dare was shifting a look around the hall. “Can I go for overwhelming?”
Gabe slipped his hand into Dare’s, and Trace shifted in front of Dare, just slightly, It gave Gabe the privacy to comfort, and Dare the added security of knowing there were two Doms close by. He’d shown a lot of balls with Jan, but this was different. This was out of his comfort zones.
Jolting slightly as he came into the hall, Jack barely had time to cry don’t do social before Leif, Brennan’s sub, was on him. There was no hesitation, no personal space between him and Jack, and Jack returned Leif’s rough kiss, rolling with it after a second and taking Leif down to the floor and vampire biting all over his throat, leaving Leif crying abuse. Jan had come in, too, and now stood looking down on them, arms folded; it forced Jack to scramble to his feet, straighten his clothes, his hair, then pull Leif up with a—
“Friend, not foe,” mumble.
“You greet all your MC friends like that?” said Jan, and he let out a groan as Jack looked towards the main conference table and how each Master sub, bar Leif, stood in a quiet line just away from the Masters.
“Well, all except Kerry, there.” Mistress Carr’s sub, a slim, South-African lady with rich, deep eyes, glanced up. “She’s got these sharp little pointy things that bite back.” Kerry smirked down as Jack grabbed Jan around the throat and pulled him in for a hug, the hard and ... friendlier vampire bites not stopping until a cough was given. Any reservations about Jack being here were blown away seeing just how much he’d relaxed coming through the doors.
“Business,” said Brennan, and Jack peered around Jan.
“You know I resigned, right? So did Gray. So technically no fuck orders me around but—”
“Business,” said Gray, now behind Jack, making him and Jan startle. Jack mumbled something under his breath, then tugged Jan off to the sidelines, with Leif whispering in his ear. No doubt he was filling Jack in on everything that had happened since he’d resigned.
But before they reached the sidelines, Gray sighed and went over to them, pulling Jack by the cuff of his sleeve, onto the floor.
“That means you, Jack.”
“Huh? This mean you’re back?”
“For tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself.” Gray then went and pulled Jan over by Jack. “You too, abstract.”
“Huh? What?” said Jan. “What did I do?”
Dressed in jeans and T-shirt, Jack stood in front of the conference table, shifting from foot to foot. Jan looked just as nervous, glancing at Gray, who stood next to him.
“What have I done??” he whispered heatedly to Gray. “Is this about the fraud, the drugs? Because the last time I was here, I whipped Jack, and you—”
“Easy,” whispered Gray. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing at all.”
Trace kept his silence off the main wooden floor, instead taking a non-member’s place off to the left of the main conference table, opposite side of the Master’s sub. Even a Dom as non-member could get a serious reaction if he stood close to the Master’s subs. He’d stood there himself once, with Nicholai calling the shots and Gray standing far too close, as a trainee Master Dom, and not giving a shit. One thing Trace did find strange was how the other Masters who were present looked a little startled at whatever short notice Gray had given them.
Gabe and Dare had been given permission to stand as non-members too, and occasionally Trace would get a shove off Dare as the big man’s nerves got the better of him, and he’d shift, coughing quietly.
Looking conscious of Jan’s worry, Jack seemed to remember where he was, and he removed his trainers and socks, inching them into position by him before easing down to his knees. He didn’t have to; he’d resigned his position from the MC, as Trace had done, but that sign was there; that quiet fall into respect, even if it was mostly for Gray, because of Gray being his Master. An ease down of his shoulders and gentle breathing spoke of how hurt and rape had been given a little context; how what had happened with Vince wasn’t BDSM, it wasn’t Jack’s lifestyle. Watching Jack for a moment, the same came to Jan’s eyes. He seemed paler by comparison, more edgy, and Jack’s glance up at him was done to offer a soft smile, a whatever
the fuck it is, we’re here together.
Gray’s was different, on the rare occasion giving away hurt when Jack and Jan weren’t watching. He didn’t look completely at ease, being here no doubt bringing back all the reasons to stay... all the reasons to go. Brennan’s quiet called out the former. His silence saw the hurt, and he kept his attention to Gray.
“You have the full attention and backing of your peers, Master Raoul.” The formal title wasn’t a mistake. “All you need now is one long-overdue sub.”
Gray gave a nod, a thank you, then— “Jan,” he said softly.
Chapter 32
Claimed
Jan frowned over at him. Again it was there on his lips, that What the hell have I done? Gray looked his way and smiled, just enough to have the tension in Jan fading. “I’d like to ask your permission to Claim Jack. And I’d like to Claim him with permission from one lover to another.”
Jan shuffled slightly. “Claim?”
“A Claiming is slightly different to a collaring, carrying more permanent markings for both sides.”
That drew Jack’s attention more than Brennan’s cough. Jan seemed to struggle to say something too.
“I know your head is racing two paces faster than your heart.” Gray came a little closer. “If you tell me you’re not ready to discuss this now, I’ll understand and postpone. I—”
“Yes,” Jan said softly. He was looking down at Jack, then focused back on Gray. “Oh God, fucking yes. Please.”
Gray offered a small smile, then brushed a gentle finger against his own lip. He’d done that since Trace had known him, saying his mind was purely on his lovers, either wanting to kiss, fuck, or discipline, but offering a silence, an anticipation all of its own that had Jack controlling his breathing. Trace wished Gray could take a step outside of himself and just look at how he affected someone. The Dom was there, that natural control, yes, but also that innate ability to want to look after those he pulled close. He kept an eye on Jan, no doubt to make sure his paleness and withdrawal weren’t blurring his reality. But Gray had done something he’d never done before: he’d asked someone’s permission to Claim his own sub. He’d asked his lover. And by asking Jan, it let everyone here know it was a partnership here when it came to Jack, and that Gray wanted Jan respected as his lover.
