Don't... (43 page)

Don’t...

...worry, Jack.

I threw the photo up the wall and picked up the phone before I knew what I was doing. Knowing Gray was my first stop, I slammed the phone back down.

“Fuck that.” Gray already knew about Ben; he’d be doing his checks to find out just where Cutter was. I didn’t need him for Jack shit.

So the bastard was back and I’d pissed him off, that was nothing new, and nothing a few hours in the dojo wouldn’t cure. I looked at my watch. It was getting on for six. I could make it there for about eight. I kept a spare copy of the key for such occasions. And if the bastard finally decided to show his face, well, that’d just be real fucking peachy. I wasn’t seventeen anymore.

Gray took the call, face barely changing as he made a few brief replies, then hung up. I watched him as he moved over to his fax machine, then a moment later it kicked into life, spewing a piece of paper out, which Gray pulled out and studied.

Every check Gray had run to find Jack had turned up nothing, and it startled me that he didn’t seem bothered. It took a day or so for me to ask him why, and he’d said if none of his men could find Jack, then it stood to reason nobody else would too. That wasn’t arrogance, hadn’t even sounded like it, just fact. Gray had settled into an uneasy wait, and I’d been forced along with him. He’d made few calls, but visits had come and gone over the past few days from the likes of the Masters and other men and women who I had the feeling were nothing to do with the Circle, more his MI5 work.

But come the third day, Gray had received a call notifying him that Jack was back in London (Essex, we’d pushed him to bloody Essex, for God’s sake). Where the call came from, Gray wouldn’t say, and it had pissed me off no ends when he’d said Jack needed to stay where he was for a while. I didn’t understand it, even made that perfectly clear by threatening to have Gray sectioned for playing suicide run with Jack’s safety like that, but when he’d told me Jack had blacked out with his OCD and wrecked a hotel room, I’d settled into an uneasy silence with Gray, not asking where Jack was because the temptation was just too great to go and drag Jack out, get him close. Gray hadn’t liked it either, seeming pissed at having just to make do with sending a surveillance crew out to Jack’s location. Come the fourth day, I think we’d both just about had enough.

“Your contact again?” I couldn’t keep the bite out of that as I followed him over to his fax. He was still keeping secrets over Jack. Gray nodded, and the knot that had wound tightly around my stomach refused to uncurl. It didn’t look like good news. “What?”

Gray stood examining a piece of paper, and I went to take it from him, but his look alone was enough to make me drop my hand.

“You don’t see this, Jan.”

That only made things worse and sickness rose in my throat. “That’s not...”

“No,” said Gray. “But I need to get to him before it is. And I know where he’ll go seeing this.”

“Where did that come from?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the back of the photo. At first I didn’t think he’d say, but then I went close, and, a hand on his neck, I pulled his head against mine. “Talk to me, Gray, please. I need to know what you do.”

I felt Gray sigh, and it seemed unsteady. He missed Jack, badly, was worried about him enough to leave Gray shaking, mostly in anger at himself, I think. His eyes had closed, and he had this deep frown on his face. I knew how he felt.

“Jack wasn’t the only one Cutter took a liking to at Jack’s garage,” he said quietly. “Steve had a rough ride too.”

“His floor manager? You know Steve?”

“Him and fifty other young guys like him,” said Gray. “Cutter was one mean bastard.”

“Steve’s your source?”

Gray nodded.

“Gray, does Jack know about the other photos we’ve received? About the Doms and subs that have gone missing?”

Gray shook his head against mine. “Steve didn’t want to put any more pressure on Jack by telling him; they’ve been friends a long time and,” Gray shrugged, “he’s probably the only man I’d trust when it comes to knowing Jack’s breaking points. And he said Jack had clocked off by the time he found this latest one in the main office.”

We’d lost contact with two Doms and a sub over three days ago. Then the pictures had started to flood in. The Master’s Circle itself had gone pretty much on shutdown, pulling all Doms, subs, and trainees alike into protective custody. Those who couldn’t come in had been given personal guard.

“And you’re sure it’s not Cutter doing this?” I asked.

“No. He was killed in prison a few years later,” he’d told me again, “no living relatives. No fucking leads. Even Alan Shaw, the policeman Jack put in hospital, has come up with nothing new.”

“You can figure this out,” I said quietly. “But we need to get Jack back here safely first. Is he still being followed by your people?”

“I’d fucking kill them if they left his side—”

“Okay, okay,” I said quietly. “He’s the only one out in the open away from the Circle; we need him back here, and it’s no good sending your surveillance team in. Jack’s tried the flight; he’ll fight if backed into a corner.”

Gray’s frown seemed to deepen. “He won’t listen to me, not now.”

I put a hand to his neck and stroked the back gently. “Then we take this to a level he understands,” I said quietly, “we Dom him in our own ways and damn well make him.”

I wasn’t going to question how Gray opened the door to Jack’s dojo without a key, just followed as he slipped his sleek form into the darkness of the reception hall beyond. Seemed there were few public as well as private boundaries with this pair. Jess had found us on the way out and had tugged me to one side as she took some things out of her bag.

“All else fails,” she whispered, slipping them in my jacket, “you both fuck the sense out of him, then drag him back boneless, tie him up, fuck him some more, then make him listen.”

I’d left her there, not daring to look at what she’d slipped in my pocket. She seemed oblivious to what was going on here, the danger not only we were in, but her too. The black Merc sitting protectively next to Gray’s offered little comfort, Gray not happy to send his surveillance team home when we’d arrived.

The contrasts of the dark outside and in here were a little disorienting, and a huge difference since my last twilight visit to see Jack in training. Somehow I doubted I’d get the same passionate reception tonight as I did then, though.

Gray led the way, barely even seeming to pause and wonder about the consequences, or take into account just how pissed Jack was. What did that make me? His conscience in shadow? Great.

From the hall faint sounds drifted over, the occasional slip of clothing through air, bare foot on wood, occasional grunted exertion, and we followed, single file, to find darkness was broken by the movement going on the wooden floor, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the windows.

Gray headed for the outskirts, where carpet ended and hard floor took over. I went just to his left and leaned against the rim of a table, watching.

I’d seen Jack play fight with one of his students before, but it hadn’t done his skill half the justice, not compared to this. I’d pinned him down to a gymnast’s physique. As he put his body through a run of kicks that twisted his body in the air, back flips that worked every moonlit muscle, timed punches and sweeping roundhouse kicks that would take him low to the floor, that initial description was never more imprinted on the consciousness.

Jack’s spatial awareness was honed by the fact he wore a blindfold, and his ability to move around the hall floor was as silence-provoking as his skill. He wore black loose-fitting jogging bottoms, was shirtless, and the moon played the sweat over his upper body. He was more than a sight for sore eyes; he was a sight to force your dick into soreness from overuse just watching him.

Gray removed his jacket, then quietly slipped off his shoes and socks and placed them neatly on the carpet, his gaze not leaving Jack. Now down to only suit trousers and white shirt, Gray pricked my interest more seeing him move onto the floor, at first avoiding Jack’s kicks and flip of body, but as Jack started on another roundhouse kick, Gray caught his leg, twisted Jack down to his stomach, forcing me to push away and move to the edge of the floor to get a better view. Jack seemed to go with the twist and roll back to his feet. But as he went to remove his blindfold, Gray moved in, a hand under Jack’s jaw, pushing Jack back a few paces to discourage him. With a curse, Jack tried again to remove it, only to end up on his ass as Gray swept his legs from underneath him.

It seemed to change something in Jack. Blindfold staying firmly in place, this time he pushed to his feet, and took up a stance that put his feet side-on to Gray, arms raised and more than ready to fight.

The sequence of kicks and punches that came from both of them wasn’t meant for play, and I winced from blows that would have left me winded and curled up on the floor crying
no more
. Four times Jack ended up flat on his stomach, the wind knock from him, yet three times he returned the compliment, kicking Gray at the back of the knees and finishing it with a kick to his ribs that saw Gray hit the floor. Gray had the upper hand with no blindfold, and he took full advantage, making Jack work twice as hard to stop the blows, kicks, and flips that sometimes caught his jaw, chest, and outer thighs, never quite hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to make Jack back off a few paces from Gray, badly winded, skin red in places from the force of the blows.

Neither really seemed to gain any ground, or maybe Gray chose not to let either of them gain any ground, because the moment he stopped, took a step back, and went still, Jack, breathing heavy, out of breath, stopped too.

Jack seemed to listen, trying to figure out where Gray was. Gray seemed content to let him.

Then as Gray went in again, my pull to Gray’s sleeve stopped him. Gray looked at me, and I shook my head before moving nose-to-nose with Jack.

There were a number of scents playing about Jack, sweat, deodorant, cologne, fear, worry, sadness? I didn’t know what the last three smelled like, but there was a drop in Jack’s shoulders that told me he had the weight of the past and all its razor blades. The sparring had taken some of the fight out of him, as Gray had intended, now it was my turn.

A brush of hand against his jaw, then letting it slip down, around to the back of his neck, I pulled Jack in for a kiss, just gentle, no tongues, just lips on lips. Jack pulled out sharply, his confusion showing in the lick he gave across his lips. But he breathed a name, just a soft mumble, and I couldn’t stop the sadness in my smile hearing mine.

He knew us apart blindfolded.

I kissed him again, harder, this time demanding entry into his mouth. He parted his lips almost as if to breathe, then his resolve gave way, his tongue slip-sliding against mine, chasing me as I made him work as hard as Gray did a few moments ago.

As Jack moaned into me, I held a hand out behind, back towards Gray. My fingers brushed his shirt, and I pulled him past me, turning him into Jack’s back, so Gray faced me over Jack’s shoulder, not letting his eyes leave mine as I tongued Jack.

I knew something about this pair, something I don’t think they’d even acknowledged for one reason or another. And I needed to acknowledge that something for myself, for them, or it would continue to tear Jack apart.

Gray watched us for a moment; then as I reached and brushed a thumb against Gray’s lips, he seemed to understand. Gray let his breath play along Jack’s shoulder; then I felt a jolt run through Jack as Gray kissed and nibbled at the back of his neck close to where my other hand lay. Where Jack’s breathing had been out of breath before, it came in sharp, shaky intakes now that had me fisting his hair and tonguing him deeper. He went to start something with his hands, but Gray took a gentle hold of Jack’s wrists and pinned his arms firmly behind his back. No cuffs, just restraint, just Gray’s restraint, and Jack didn’t fight it. I kissed my way down his throat, tasting sweat under my lips as I moved down his chest, ran a tongue over the finely toned abs, and gripped the rim of his jogging bottoms. Jack had stilled completely.

No ceremony with my actions, I pulled jogging pants and boxers down off his ass to his ankles; then Gray shifted Jack, shook him rough enough to get him out of them altogether. It gave Jack time enough to growl at the rough handling, but as I took Jack’s dick hard in my mouth, all forms of protest evaporated from Jack. Gray forced his legs apart from behind, and I kept tongue and lips and the occasional twist of my own head focused on his tip.

“Huh,” breathed Jack, and he almost seemed to lose it until I grabbed the base of his cock and pressed hard to stop him from coming.

Satisfied we still had him along for the ride, I eased down onto my back between their legs, finally curious now to see what Jess had given me. Reaching into my pocket, I smiled pulling out a condom and some lube. This next bit was for Gray as I flicked the clasp to my jeans and pulled my cock free. The condom came next, followed by some lube, and I slicked myself well. I wasn’t ashamed to show this had got me going. Seeing Gray peer down, I ran a few long strokes on my shaft until he got the point. Eyes narrowing slightly, Gray forced Jack down, and the movement surprised both me and Jack as we shared a grunt, then groan. Jack’s ass crushed beautifully into my groin, his balls and taint riding my length.