The Ripple Effect

by Alex Standish

  Jack chuckled. "I love it when you talk dirty."

  They lied back down on the bed, Jack spooned behind Carson, his hands brushing over Carson's stomach soothingly. They remained silent for a while, Carson feeling a little numb.

  "What's on the agenda for today?" he asked softly, turning to face Jack.

  "Well, I'm going to take a shower, get dressed and get us some breakfast downstairs. You're going to stay in bed and rest."

  Carson made a disgusted face. "I don't see why I can't go with you guys to check the damage the fire caused. It's not like I'd be doing anything too strenuous."

  "Carson, you went through hell yesterday," Jack chastised gently. "Give your body a chance to unwind."

  Carson gave him a brief kiss. "Okay, okay. I'll behave."

  Jack rolled his eyes in patent disbelief, then looked at him. "Are you going to be okay?"

  Carson smiled, grateful for Jack's concern, for his love. For trying to make him laugh so Carson would feel better. "Yeah," he said. "I won't pretend this didn't hurt. But I'm not going to let my father--or Bruce--ruin my life." He took a deep steadying breath, then waved a hand at Jack, in mock dismissal. "Go on, hurry up, then. I'm hungry and I want breakfast in bed."

  Jack rose from the bed, and bowed respectfully. "Yes, bwana."

  Carson laughed, throwing a pillow at Jack. Jack moved easily out of the way and left the room with a wiggle of his naked ass that had Carson hard and panting in seconds. Maybe there would be time for a little something extra before Jack had to leave for the day. And as for Bruce and his father, they could both go to hell.

  # # #

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack took a quick shower, got dressed, woke up the others, then went downstairs to get breakfast. Kit wasn't in yet, so he ordered the food from Zere, drinking a cup of coffee while he waited.

  He rubbed his forehead as he thought back to the phone call from Carson's father. Jack had tried to play it cool for Carson's sake, but he was furious. He had seen how much his father's rejection had hurt Carson, and if Jack was honest with himself, what hurt Carson hurt him too. He wanted nothing more than to find Fraser and knock out all of his teeth. Flying to New York and having a little tête-à-tête with Mr. Bodine Senior didn't sound so bad either.

  "Morning," Kit greeted him as she walked in. "You look like you're ready to rip somebody apart. Anything I can do to help?"

  Jack laughed softly. "Only you'd offer to help me tear somebody's head off without even knowing the hows or whys."

  "What are friends for?" She sobered, leaning on the counter next to him. "Listen, Jack." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yesterday after you left to look for Carson, I had a visitor."

  The fact she was actually fidgeting made Jack curious. "Who?"

  "That friend of Carson's, Bruce Fraser. And I use the term 'friend' very loosely."

  Jack scowled. "He's still in Jawara? What the hell did he want?"

  "Basically, he's on a smear campaign. He told me that Carson's playing us for fools, that he's bad news. He said Carson's good guy routine is just an act, that he's just trying to get us to trust him." She grinned wickedly. "He couldn't come up with a good reason as to why Carson would need us to trust him, though. I didn't believe him, but if he goes around talking..." She shrugged. "Jawara's a small place and Carson works for you now. Fraser may do some damage."

  Jack nodded, too furious to even attempt to talk. Looking down at his watch, he realized that even if Fraser was sheduled to leave Jawara today, he would still be at the hotel.

  "I'll handle it," he finally managed to say, knowing she could hear the promise of retribution in his tone.

  "Good," she said. "Because if he comes back here, I'll shove a broom up his ass."

  In spite of his dark mood, Jack laughed. "Get in line." Zere handed him a tray with both his and Carson's breakfast plates and he made his way to the apartment, catching the others on the way down. "Hurry up eating. We're leaving in fifteen."

  He ignored Roger's "Good morning to you, too", and took the food to the bedroom, nodding approvingly when he saw that Carson was still in bed. He placed the tray on the covers and sat down.

  "Here's your breakfast, my bwana."

  His attempt at levity obviously didn't fool Carson, who caught his wrist in a gentle grip. "Jack, what's wrong?"

  He considered lying, but decided against it. "Fraser was here yesterday. Told Kit we shouldn't trust you, that you were bad news, stuff like that. She didn't believe him, of course."

  Carson's green eyes studied him for a moment. "You're thinking about doing something stupid, aren't you?"

  It should grate that someone could read him so well, but all Jack felt was that sense of connection that had been there between them from the moment they met.

  "Yes," he answered honestly. "I'm not letting him go around spreading lies about you and possibly hurting our bond with the Jawarans. We're not exactly low profile and you work for me."

  Carson shook his head, clearly amused. "Is that the only reason?"

  Jack gave him a wry smile. "No. I also hate his guts and I want to see him sweat."

  "Jack..." Carson rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "I don't want you to get in trouble. Bruce isn't worth it. If we leave him alone, ignore him, he'll get bored and go away."

  "You want me to turn the other cheek?" Jack said, shaking his head. "Sorry. Not my style." Seeing Carson's unhappy frown, he added gently, "Nothing you can say will change my mind, Carson. But I promise I won't play hardball. I just want him gone."

  Carson eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah?"

  Jack kissed him tenderly. "Yeah."

  Carson leaned against the headboard. "I guess that's all I can hope for. But I still don't like it."

  Jack ruffled Carson's hair affectionately. "It'll be okay, Carson."

  Jack sat beside Carson, their shoulders touching, and turned his attention to his breakfast. They fed bits of fruit to each other, trading sweet kisses in between bites, mostly in comfortable silence. It was a very reluctant Jack that left the flat fifteen minutes later.

  # # #

  Jack parked his jeep in front of the hotel with a loud screech of tires. He promptly jumped out, waiting impatiently by the sidewalk for the others to join him.

  "Now that we've let you cool off," Roger said, referring to the silent drive to the hotel. "You wanna tell us what's going on?"

  "Kit told you about Fraser's visit yesterday?" Jack asked.

  Jarod nodded. "Yeah. There's more, right?" he guessed.

  Jack twisted with anger. "Yeah, some stuff with Carson's father all orchestrated by the creep. It's not for me to tell you the specifics, though, you'll have to ask Carson. Suffice to say it was bad."

  "Damn," Brendan muttered sympathetically.

  "No shit," Jack growled. "So we're here to make sure Fraser's out of our lives once and for all. He can spread his poison in New York to his heart's content, but not here. Come on." They stepped into the hotel, making a beeline for the reception desk. "What room's Bruce Fraser staying in?"

  The receptionist blinked at Jack. "I'm sorry, sir. We're not at liberty to divulge--" He trailed off nervously when Jack grabbed him by the lapels.

  "The. Room. Number," Jack enunciated dangerously. "Now."

  "Um, two-hundred and three," the man squeaked.

  Jack smirked. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now, before you even consider calling the room to warn Mr. Fraser of our... visit, just remember we'll have to come down again. Got that?"

  Released from Jack's grip, the receptionist moved away from the counter, straightening his tie convulsively. "Yes, sir."

  "Good." Jack turned to his team. "You heard the man, room two-hundred and three."

  They took the elevator to the second floor, emerging into a deserted corridor. Fraser's room was the third on the left, and as they grew closer they could clearly hear muffled sounds filtering in through the thick door, the rhythmical squeak of a mattress, a dead giveaway as to what Fr
aser was up to.

  "Son of a bitch," Jack muttered, perversely glad he was about to interrupt the other man's happy hour. "Jarod?" He gestured to the door.

  Jarod rubbed his hands together. "My pleasure."

  He raised his foot and kicked the door open with a loud crash. Jack was the first to walk in the room, to the vision of a startled Fraser frantically trying to cover himself up.

  "What's the meaning of this?" Fraser sputtered angrily.

  Jack ignored him, turning his attention to Fraser's companion. Sharing the rich man's bed was a young male hooker. It wasn't the first time they had come across this kid. The team usually spent a few nights a month combing the streets for underage kids who might be convinced to return to their families. Not every runaway welcomed them with open arms; as Brendan kept telling Jack, not everyone wanted to be saved. This one, Malik, was set on making his own way, no matter what the cost, and nobody had been able to convince him otherwise.

  "A hooker, Fraser? You know he's not even sixteen yet?" Jack finally said, disgust clear in his tone. "And just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower. He pay you yet, kid?" The kid shook his head, so Jack motioned to the wallet on the nightstand. "Take what he owes you, get dressed and beat it."

  Malik didn't waste any time obeying and soon they were alone with Fraser, who scowled, "I didn't know he was underage."

  Jack snorted. "Of course you didn't."

  "What do you want, MacKenzie? You may have some clout in this country, but I'm betting even you have better things to do than bust people for solicitation."

  "We're here to take you to the airport," Roger said. "Get dressed."

  Fraser scoffed. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Oh, yes, you are," Vivian said, walking up to the bed, hands on her hips. "Now, are you going to get dressed, or do you want us to do it for you?"

  Fraser's face reddened dangerously with outrage. "You wouldn't dare!"

  Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Wanna bet? You ain't got anything I haven't seen before, Fraser, and seen better," she taunted. "No need to feel embarrassed."

  Fraser glared at them, but got up and donned his clothes, doing his best to ignore the fixed stares he was receiving. Surprisingly, he packed without having to be told and, without a word, left the room. Jack made sure to keep at his heels while the other man paid his bill, and even let Roger drive to the airport, Jarod riding shotgun, so Jack could sit in the backseat with Fraser.

  Jackie drove the second jeep, Vivian and Brendan as her passengers, and Jack couldn't help but smirk when Jackie drove so close that both vehicles nearly touched. He knew Jackie would never do anything that might cause an accident, but it was fun to watch Fraser fidget every time the other jeep got closer with a loud purr of its engine. Fraser might be trying to play it cool, but he was rattled.

  "This isn't over, MacKenzie. I promise you that," Fraser said after a prolonged silence, eyes on the morning traffic.

  "What are you going to do, Fraser?" Jack asked. "Call Carson's father and tell lies? You've done that already. Try to sully our reputation? Again, nothing new. Give it up, it's over."

  Fraser didn't say another word, but Jack could almost hear the wheels turning in the man's head. He wouldn't be surprised if they heard from him again in the future. Fraser didn't sound like the type to surrender without a fight. And unfortunately, he had the money to support whatever idiotic plan he might be hatching.

  Once at the airport, they went with Fraser to buy the plane ticket back to New York and sat with him in the waiting room. Jack sat to Fraser's left, Brendan on the right, barely leaving him any room to move, while Roger, Jarod and Vivian loomed in front of him, eyes barely leaving Fraser's face.

  Only Jackie remained a few inches away, Jack having to suppress a chuckle when he noticed that she was cleaning her nails with a knife. A very big knife. It was such an effective image, despite Jackie's small stature, that even a security guard who walked by had scurried away in a hurry, after taking a good look at her.

  "Why are you doing this?" Fraser asked, gazing down at his shoes.

  Jack's eyebrows climbed up to his hairline at the question. "Do you really have to ask? You're trouble, Fraser, and I want you as far away from here as possible. You've caused enough problems as it is." He tilted his head, looking at the other man. "Although, I really should thank you. If not for you, I'd never have met Carson." He laughed at Fraser's sour expression. "Your loss, my gain."

  When the boarding call finally came, Jack and Brendan walked with Fraser up to the departure gate.

  "Hope they run out of peanuts. Or barf bags," Brendan teased maliciously as Fraser handed his ticket and boarding pass to the gate agent. "Fraser doesn't talk much, does he?" he commented to Jack when there was no response to his baited comments.

  Jack watched Fraser walk away, making sure the billionaire wouldn't turn back once they weren't looking. "He's scheming," he said. "He gave up way too easily. I think we'll be seeing him again soon."

  Brendan gave a theatrical shudder. "God, I hope not."

  Jack looked at him. "Bren, you think the five of you can handle work today?"

  Brendan shrugged. "Sure. From what we saw yesterday, there shouldn't be much for us to do, anyway. The fire seems to have burned mostly jungle. Why?"

  Jack smiled. "I need some downtime."

  Brendan flashed him a quick smile, letting Jack know he wasn't fooled. "Right. Want some nookie with Carson, huh?" He gave him a slight push. "Get out of here, then. I'll talk to the others."

  Jack patted Brendan on the back. "Thanks, I owe you one. See ya tonight."

  "Have fun," Brendan grinned wickedly.

  Jack laughed, reddening slightly. "Oh, I plan to."

  He rushed out of the airport, climbed into his jeep and made his way home. Traffic was light and soon he was parking the Wrangler in the alley behind the bar. He got out of the jeep, twirling the keys in his fingers as he whistled off key, when a sharp pain in his neck had him stumbling in surprise.

  Jack touched the side of his neck only to find a small dart embedded in his skin. His legs gave out and he staggered precariously for a few seconds, then collapsed on the ground, the keys slipping from suddenly nerveless fingers. He fought against sleep, but it was no use. Slowly, consciousness gave way to darkness.

  # # #

  Carson looked up at the ceiling for the thousandth time, acknowledging ruefully to himself that he just wasn't the resting type. Jack hadn't been gone for more than an hour and Carson was already bored out of his skull. He really didn't want to upset Jack, but if he had to stay in bed another minute, he would probably go insane.

  Surrendering to his restless nature, Carson got up, showered and shaved, and after once again borrowing some of Roger's clothes, went down to Kit's bar. He sat at a table, content to just watch the customers coming and going. Not exactly a mind-blowing activity, but it still beat counting the cracks on the ceiling.

  "You should be resting," Kit told him as she sat in front of him, handing him a cup of steaming coffee.

  Carson shrugged. "I was ready to climb the walls. Sitting here isn't exactly strenuous work, Kit." He looked around, sipping carefully from the mug. "Where's Zere? Maybe he could keep me company for a while?"

  "I sent him shopping. I'll tell him to join you when he gets back." She touched his hand briefly. "Carson, about Fraser's visit yesterday... Jack told you about it?"

  "Yeah," Carson sighed the word. "He told me."

  "You know I didn't believe him, right?"

  Carson nodded. "Yeah. Still good to hear it, though," he said with a smile. "I'm only sorry you got caught in this mess. Coming here to whine about me was a low point, even for Bruce."

  She chuckled. "I'm sure by now he's sorry he ever set foot back in Jawara. Jack probably has him wetting himself."

  Carson grimaced ruefully. "I hope not. He told me he wouldn't do anything, but with Jack you never know. I don't want him to get in trouble with the cops and--" A commotion by t
he entrance caught his attention. "What the hell?"

  Zere stormed into the bar, nearly falling over in his haste. His eyes were wide with fright, his cocoa complexion glistening with sweat. "Carson! Carson!" he shouted. "You've got to come! Jack's in trouble!"

  Carson rushed to Zere, heart hammering in his chest even as he forced himself to remain calm. Placing his hands on Zere's shoulders, he forced the kid to focus. "Zere, calm down. Take deep breaths, come on." When the kid obeyed and looked a little less frantic, Carson asked, "What happened to Jack? And where are the others?"

  Zere bit his lip nervously. "I didn't see them, I think Jack was alone. I didn't know what to do. When I went shopping, I saw this man throwing Jack in the back of a van. He looked unconscious." He fidgeted nervously, eyes going from Carson to Kit and back again. "I know I'm not supposed to drive, but I saw Jack's jeep in the alley and the keys were on the ground... If I'd looked for help, Jack would've been gone."

  Carson patted his shoulder gently. "Take it easy, kid, it's okay. What do you mean? What did you do?"

  "I followed the van," Zere said keenly. "I followed the man who took Jack."

  "Where did you follow the van to?" Carson asked urgently.

  "To the red mansion."

  Carson turned to Kit, questioning.

  "It used to be a brothel," Kit explained. "It closed down about a year ago, and it's been abandoned ever since. It's a huge, red building on the outskirts of town. Well, it used to be on the outskirts; the jungle's been taking over. It's completely isolated and after all this time, probably pretty broken-down."

  "There's more," Zere gulped. "I hid while the man took Jack out of the van. I saw another man coming out of the mansion. It was Jabulani."

  "Are you sure?" Kit asked.

  Zere nodded. "I've seen him before. My cousin works as a gofer at the casino, sometimes we have lunch together. Jabulani's there a lot."

  "Oh, my God," Carson said desperately, understanding the real danger Jack was in. "I've got to--"

  Kit grabbed his arm, stopping him from rushing to the jeep. "You're not going anywhere."