Antidote (Don't) (39 page)

Shoving at Vince, hitting him with his shoulder, Jack knocked him down a touch. Nothing in his eyes said he knew what he was doing; he was just after the nearest cloth to wipe himself clean, the nearest thing stopping him and Vince just happened to be there. If it had been me there—

Pushing him away, Vince grabbed Jack by the hair and forced him down into the dirt on the floor.

“Roll in it, fuck hole, because only real men get dirty. Until you can get dirty on your own, that makes you nothing but meat for fucking.”

Jack tried to roll around, even if it was to wipe my come off with the dirt on the floor. Marks scuffed his body, dusty patches he’d need off his skin any other time, on his outer thighs, his ass, top of his shoulder, one on his cheek. He’d never let his floor get this dirty, it was almost as if—

“Yeah,” said Vince, watching him letting him writhe. “Pig might be a real man someday now.” He looked at me. “Thank you, Jan. Job well done.”

I cried out, still tasting blood in my mouth, feeling the needle scrape teeth, dust bite into Jack’s skin, and standing there in the shower, I pushed away from Gray, cleaning—scrubbing the dirt hard off for me, for Jack, until I felt skin tear.

“Stop.” Gray covered my hands with his, stopping me from clawing at my skin, then taking over with a gentler touch, he started to cleanse my skin with soap. With it he brought a heavy tiredness that seemed to pull me down with each gentle stroke of sponge as we stood there in the shower. Words became slurred as all of the details spilled free, what I could remember anyhow, but each whisper he’d give into my ear was clear, saying I was doing good. And then he took as much care, time, and attention drying me. I’d stopped talking. I’d told him everything Henry had done, Vince, but the relief and exhaustion came with telling him how I hated Jack back there for a while, that I’d wished that they’d take it one step further and just... stopped.

The thing that hurt the most? There was no judgement in Gray’s eyes, just that constant “You did good, Jan.” Life didn’t feel good, it felt pretty shit, and the grief that mixed with droplets of water had shown it.

“Get your head down,” said Gray, going through to the bedroom and pulling back the covers. Wrapped in his housecoat, I climbed in without any protest and felt the light weight of the duvets cover my body. “I’m going see to Jack,” he said and a touch ran through my hair. “I’ll be back in a minute. Security is doubled outside, both day and night. You’re safe. More than. Get some sleep.”

No part of me protested at shutting life out for a few hours. In fact, I willed it on. Just a few hours without thinking, without needing, without remembering, without guilt, without missing, without being next to Jack as his body was forced into mine, without real men getting—

“Nothing you could have done, Jan.” I felt a kiss to my shoulder. “Nothing at fucking all.”

Jack

The door eased open and I stilled, just calmed. Someone came over to the bed, and for a moment there was only silence. I added to it as I lay there facing the window, eyes closed, needing my eyes to stay closed and for the room to stay quiet. But after a moment, the bed depressed and a hand dusted my hip before gently resting there.

Deep breath in, hold for one twist of screw, two twists, release—

“Yeah.” The touch was gone. “I know you’re stressed, stunner. But I need to make sure the details are filled in.” Gray’s breathing was just as calm, just as controlled, just as practiced. “You’ve been in the hospital for five days. You and Jan were gone twelve days before that, held in a warehouse with part of it set-up to mimic your own home.” A very steady fall and rise of breathing. “Maybe you don’t understand the why behind it all, but you knew details; your father, Jan, me... I’m hoping it’s because of all the scenes you’ve done. With the drugs working their way out of your system, maybe something’s telling you it was a bad scene, it wasn’t real. And that’s half the battle fought, stunner, if that’s the case. You saw Jan is hurting, and you were prepared to react to it, but their sensory games kicked in.”

He waited for a reply; he waited a long time.

“Okay.” A heavy sigh. “The medical side of things.” There was the ruffle of a bag. “Someone didn’t wear a condom; they’ve passed on an infection. There are meds that you will have to take daily, mostly antibiotics. AIDS test was clear, so too was Jan’s, although he picked up a chest infection from his forced feeding. But the main concern now is the damage that was done to your rectu—”

I shifted. The movement enough to get him to shut up—he really needed to shut the fuck up now.

“Yeah, I know. But you need to know fearing even the basics like bowel movement is normal in these circumstances.”

Fingers dug into the pillow.

“The doctor has also prescribed something to soften your stools. Please take them. If you’re struggling going, talk to me, or even the doctors as soon as possible. You’ve had significant damage, went through surgery five days ago because of it, and you need to take it easy, rest. Get your system back to normal, and then start therapy sessions with Philip Halliday next week. One issue you don’t worry over is Vince. He’s been taken care of. He won’t come near you again. Keal played a part in this too, but you don’t worry over him either.”

Gray fell quiet and for a moment the world went quiet too. All colours muted, just a mixture of grey and dark as sleep started to drift close.

“Jack.”

Eyes came open.

“Why I’ve never let you top me...” Quiet. “I’m a pure top, nothing more. It’s my sexual preference,” said Gray. “Jan... Jan was my second, and I did that purely to push your buttons, to see you heated. After eleven years together, I thought you’d recognise me as a top. It’s nothing to do with your disorders, nothing at all.” He sighed. “What happened afterwards? I’ve only ever been used to pushing you into the black when it came to crossing the line, when it came to feeling for you.” His hand was back on my hip again. “That shit over Cutter, over collaring?” Breathing came a little shorter. “That was all my fuck-up.” Forced control came into play. “Professional distance.” He snorted. “Christ, distance is so much easier than dealing with the emotional bollocks that comes with loving you. You make being forced to feel such a fucking dangerous place to be. Part of why I Dom for the MC is because of the formality behind the Dom/sub relationships. It’s not just about sex, but it is about business and keeping it as such.”

Gray stroked at my hip.

“The only feelings I have anymore centre around every single move you make, and I fuck-up constantly because of it. Trace... he learned that the hard way too.” Gray fell quiet for a moment. “He was already at the MC when I was first initiated as a Master, another Master’s sub at that, one I was told I couldn’t touch.” He snorted coldly. “I understand your kick against authority, Jack, but few people in my life have ever had balls enough to tell me no. That one Master did, and I partly took Trace knowing that it was purely because I was told no. Then I learned that if you go against one Master, you go against all.

“It should have taught me all the lessons I needed to learn over trust, respect, over learning to recognise another Master’s compassion, but even after that, I made damn sure Trace stayed in my bed, right up until I was taken to one side by Trace’s Master and told what Trace had come from. I saw more of myself in that moment than I had through all of my military and MI5 training.” That quiet again. “I was no better than the night crawlers he’d been with, taking him from another Master just for the thrill of doing it, even though after a few weeks I knew I was in far deeper with Trace than any MC Master and sub relationship. So I walked away. At a time in his life when he needed so much better, I walked away, and pretty much killed everything inside of me in the process. I loved him, but those few weeks had seen it earned on the back of youth and corruption. Mine. I swore I wouldn’t get involved and play suicidal run with anyone’s feelings like that again, not without getting into their heads and knowing every thought they had first. That I wouldn't damage them in the process.

“Then you... Christ. It wasn’t embarrassment I felt over you and those videos. It was much worse than that.” Breathing became hard and heavy. “How Cutter looked at you, you were his, body and soul, and I was back to seeing someone else hold what was mine, what I loved. Being told in a whole new way that I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, have you fully. I wanted to tear Cutter to fucking pieces for it, like I had with Trace’s Master, only Cutter wasn’t there, you were. I wanted to hurt him even if it meant going through you to do it....” A sigh. “I’m a bastard, Jack. I know that, and I could feel myself slipping. It was safer for me to push you away. I thought you’d be safer away from me.”

A kiss graced the back of my head. “Head fuck.” Gray’s head rested against the back of mine for a moment. “I should have taken my own head out of my ass and just told you how much it kills me not to have you here.” He paused. “I should have stopped you leaving that night, should have kept you close, should have—Christ, Jack, just not enough bollocks to say what matters, when it matters with you....” He sounded angry and let that fade into nothing. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry for hurting you in ways I’d kill anyone else for, stunner. You fuck up my world in so many ways, but only ever in every right way that matters anymore.”

He was gone, the bed taking its natural shape as Gray went over to the door. It opened but didn’t shut. “I’ll take care of Jan until you’re ready to; he needs looking after. You made me promise to do that a few months back just after Rob’s funeral. It still stands, especially now. He’s a damn good man. But he’s scared, and he’s hurt.”

The room fell quiet and I relaxed into the silence, heart now slowing as I breathed, shifting only slightly to ease the itching in my groin, my side. Sleep. I was so fucking tired.

“Tell me you love me, Jack. Not that bastard in your dreams. I’m sick of sharing now.” Vince came down, kissing at my neck. “Please. Just tell me that you love me.”

More kisses tenderised my throat, and I swallowed hard, really fucking hard.

“Fucking say it—you love me.”

“Yeah... love you.”

“Yeah?” Vince tilted my head back, kissing at my neck, and Jan? He was back in the room. Boxing Day had gone, but he was still there, brown eyes blinking at me as I blinked back at him. Vince was on top of me, tilting my head back with a grip in my hair, eyes almost forced on Jan. “Prove it, baby.” Vince was hard, so fucking hard, now pulling back and looking down on me. “Open your legs for me.”

I breathed, very fucking deeply.

“For fuckssake, Jack.” I winced as a fist slammed into the covers, inches from my head. A grip went into my hair. “Open your fucking legs. Love me.”

Yeah, such a fucking easy whore.

“Fuck,” mumbled Vince, coming down into my neck, biting, his body rubbing against mine now I’d allowed him in. Reaching down, he slipped his hand around my outer thigh and lifted my leg so the heel rested on the bed, then he reached between us, his cock brushing mine, before he shifted his hips back and rubbed his head against my ass.

“Come on, Jack. Touch yourself. Get this fear of Jan and the other bastard out of your body; stroke your cock against me. Let me feel it on my abs.”