Breakdown (10 page)

Craig chuckled as he came around from the other side. He’d done a full circle now. “I think even old Mr. Larson threw his bony little body in to help, but mostly because he thought you’d pilfered his false teeth. They go missing a lot.”

I rubbed at my head, but the image forced a chuckle. “You the sort to pilfer teeth if people play you up?”

“Who, me? I don’t pilfer from punters, I just... misplace if they play up...” Craig tapped thoughtfully at the remaining strap. “Hmmm, now I’ve actually tackled a Master sub to the floor and managed to put these on a Master sub, do I get, like, a BDSM beginner’s certificate or something? A little gold cup? A badge? I like badges: small ones.”

I choked a laugh, then found I couldn’t stop for a minute. “You fucking pratt. You’d get kicked out for doing it against the Master sub’s wishes, that and your balls kicked by Gray, then dog-piled by security. Then there’s Jan.”

“Ah.” Craig was smiling. “So a good sign that you’re getting better is when I see you turned on by all of this? Be warned, I’ll sedate your ass, ensuring I find the biggest needle to jab in said ass if I see you in the slightest way getting horny.”

A hand to my shoulder helped ease me up into a sitting position, but my head went down, legs pulled tight into my body.

“Jack.” Quiet. “You’ve been struck mute, mate. As much as I do like that...”

“You need to fuck those straps off.”

More quiet, then. “You’re not restrained anymore, Jack.”

The edges of the bed seemed to close in, bringing the straps closer. Or that’s how it felt as the strands tried to crawl over. “No, you need to get them the fuck away from me. Under the mattress, anywhere. Just out of sight. Please.” The mattress that had been on the floor yesterday had gone, whoever had pinned my ass to the floor opting for the hospital bed and the restraints. I wouldn’t mind the mattress now. No straps. Nothing.

“Do restraints trigger your blackouts?”

I show you my control, Jack, you don’t ever ask again like this.
I’d left Gray bloodied and broken as he’d sat against the bedroom wall. His last attempt to show me just how much I couldn’t take restraint. I hadn’t listened then, not really.

“Trigger,” I said quietly. “Should tag that to my first fucking name, that.”

The hospital bed jerked a couple of times. “All done.” True to his words, Craig had tucked the straps away. “Keep talking to me, Jack. Let me know these things, okay? I’ll make a note in the records, and it’s good that you’re noticing, really good. The past week has been tough on you. Just... just don’t move off the bed for a minute, not yet.” The sides to it were pulled up so I had no choice but to stay. Before I could ask why, Craig was walking into the light of the corridor. He came back a few minutes later carrying a tray. After sitting down, he handed it over.

“You need to eat and drink before you think about getting up. I’ll need to check your blood pressure and blood sugar in about twenty minutes, but after you’ve had a chance to relax and let some food wake your system up a little.”

It wasn’t until I’d pulled the tray onto my lap that I saw his face clearly. He looked tired, hair all messed up. The beginnings of a bad bruise touched his cheek and darkened one eye. Finger marks played around his throat, like someone had tried to choke him quiet.

Craig offered a tired smile. “Don’t go there, Jack. This is my job. It’s what I do.”

Balancing the tray on my lap, I wiped a hand over my mouth. “You ever feel like returning a few of the bruises? Y’know, a sneaky slog when Halliday isn’t looking and you’ve got the punter on the floor?”

Craig snorted a chuckle. “We have a strict ‘no physical abuse’ policy.”

“And when the boss isn’t listening in?”

He gave a shrug. “Only with the bastards who really piss me off. And I haven’t met one of those yet.”

I managed a slight smile but it filtered to nothing seeing the marks that mapped my life. “Have you met Martin over the past week, then?”

Craig tapped at the tray as he spoke. “No, no Martin, just a lot of arms, legs, and ducking trying to dodge the head-butting. This Martin, he a nasty piece of work, is he? Because I’m pretty fucking knackered just managing you. Mind you, I did get the day off yesterday with yesterday morning’s outburst.”

I took a long drink of the orange juice, loving how cold it was, but refraining from looking at the bacon sandwich and Craig. “Don’t know. I’ve never met him,” I mumbled, hating how loud my stomach growled. “But he pisses Gray off, and nobody usually rattles Gra—”

You think I’d hurt
you
—like that?

Yeah, I stopped that there, then ate the sandwich before placing the tray on the floor.

“You always look as though it hurts, eating,” said Craig, as he made sure I took the juice.

I watched him for a moment, then—“Just memories,” I mumbled. “Vince preferred forcing a tube down my throat, and Jan’s.” I frowned. “Jan had a lot worse.” I swept the bits off the bed, then found I stopped myself from straightening out the creases. That pissed me off, not having the will to straighten out the kinks. Head games. Fucking hers. I straightened the first crease, hating how my hand shook.

Craig was quiet for a minute. “Well done, bud.”

I flicked a look at him. “Not a fucking kid.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “Smallest steps are sometimes the hardest, though.” He frowned. “All this with Vince. It happened over Christmas?”

I looked away. “Think so... A lot of the details...” I tried to sort through them. “They’re like three different engines thrown into a pile. I can see a fuel pump, describe it in detail, but I can’t find the right engine part to fit it to. I just remember Jan being there sometimes. How scared he was.”

“You look very close.”

Breath became hard, to the point it hurt. “Lost sight of that along the way. Such a soft fucking soul, and they tore him apart. Didn’t see it, not properly. And—Ah.” I tried to get off the bed. “I just need to call him. I need—”

“Jack, easy.” Craig’s face was blurred at the edges. “Take a deep breath in, hold for two coun—”

“
I know how to fucking breathe
.”

A hand gripped my foot, not hurting, but something to focus on. A distraction, and life came back into sharp focus.

“Good. Now take a breath.”

The need was there to bite back, fight, get the shit to let go, but there was a deeper hurt there, a need to... Jan. “I need to call Jan. Gray...”

“Not yet.”

“
Why the fuck not?
”

“You’ve just come out of a sedative and a long blackout.” Craig pulled back a touch. “Do you need me to tell you why it’s a bad idea, Jack—”

“My old man. Christ.” Now I was off the bed, gripping onto the mattress to stop the mosh-pit waltzing going on in my head. “My old lady... I need to warn him. Sick fuck, she’s one sick fuck.” A hand went to my shoulder. “Get the fuck off me.” Craig stepped back as I glared at him. “She was there: she fucking watched everything Vince did: I heard her fucking talking. If my old man sees...” Giving a groan, I doubled, more from the hurt, more from knowing I wasn’t going to stop throwing up if my old man knew. “Didn’t want him to see. Not that... none of the MC shit, not this.”

“You’re hitting the hardest point, Jack,” Craig said quietly. “But all cards are being laid bare on the table. No lies, no hiding.”

I screwed my eyes shut.

“Halliday needs to finish the discussion you had yesterday. Let’s get this worst part over, see where we stand with therapy.”

Good bloke... I needed to be a good bloke. Anything to get the hell out of here, sort my shit—just get to Jan and Gray.

If I’d trashed Halliday’s office in any way, it had been cleaned up with everything put back in its place this morning. I snorted as I took to the settee again, earning a look off Halliday as he closed the door and came and sat opposite.

Always someone around to clear up the shit.

Leaning back into the cool red leather, I rubbed at my head.

“Headache?” said Halliday, bringing his leg up to rest across his knee as he sat back, getting comfortable. He, back in his suit, me just jeans and T-shirt.

“Hm?” I frowned over. “Just tired.”

“It’s been a tough week. Do you want to call time out? Delay this for a few hours and rest?”

“I need to call Jan, Gray, my... my old man. See what he knows.”

“Your father?”

Maybe I needed some painkillers after all, my head hurt like shit. “Does he know about her?”

Halliday didn’t answer.

“I know how this psych shit works, that questions are asked so that the head case finds the answers for himself, but now... I just need a straight fucking answer on whether he’s safe, that he’s okay. That...”

“He knows about the Master’s Circle.”

I dropped my head a touch, looking at my fingers. “Yeah.”

“Are you ashamed of being a Master sub, Jack? Of being Gray’s Master sub?”

I levelled a gaze. “No. I train people not to fuck up and hurt someone, but I’ve screwed up enough along the way before I was an MCer, my old man knows it. I didn’t want him to face anything else that would hurt him. Does he know about my mother?”

Halliday sighed. “The morning you came here, just an hour or so before, I was with your father and mother at your father’s house.”

I stiffened. “Why?”

“Gray’s security called me, asking me to come over to Gray’s and see you when Martin made an appearance.”

Yeah, I remembered that.

“Just after I was called by security, I went over to your father’s first to find out more details about Martin. You came under the Master’s Circle’s care a year after Martin stopped making an appearance, and there were little details in the therapy sessions regarding Martin himself.”

I thought back and things started to connect pretty quickly. “Gray.” I narrowed my eyes. “Did Jan and Gray meet you at my old man’s?” That morning I found the DVD in Gray’s office, he’d looked more than pissed.

“Gray recognised the necklace you wore in the branding DVD, yes,” he said quietly. “The one your mother bought you. He pieced together the evidence.”

“Fuck.” I groaned, head now resting back on the settee. “Fucking, fuck. And Jah—” I looked at Halliday. “Jan. She saw Jan raped and...”

“Your father was there when Gray arrested her, Jack.”

“He knows?”

“Your father? Yes, he knows. I’ve just told you that. Are you aware you’re scratching at your hip? Would you like to go casual with your photo?”

“No.” I locked my hands, stopping the touching. No wonder Gray had looked so goddamn ghost-like. “He knows everything? About Gray?”

“He’s a good man, Jack, your father. There was a lot of pride there, after learning what your mother had done, learning about Gray, there was nothing but pride for what you do within the MC.”

“Did Gray get that fucking
whore
away from him?
From Jan?
” The anger scared the hell out of me, never mind Halliday, or the shuffle of someone from behind the door.

“Gray has taken care of her. Latest reports say that April Leamore’s body, the woman your mother originally tried to frame for hiring Vince, was found in a kiln in a disused bakery.”

Christ. April. Martin had fucked her and her life up all those years back, and my old lady finished off her misery years later. There was a joke there about the whore’s cooking skills worsening, but it sat too bitter on my tongue. “
Gray
took care of her?”

“He had your mother deported and arrested in Italy, Jack. Gray refused to touch her. The only sidetrack of law will be that this will not go to any court. She’s gone against an MC member, a Master’s sub at that, and the MC has influence in many ways, in many corners.”

“But my old man... he knows about her, that she was there watching, filming all that shit?”

“You remember her being there?”

I frowned. “She tried hard to mask it with the drugs, wearing her hair down when she usually ties it back, eating curry when she can’t stand it, but yeah...”
Jack, honey, I’ll go and get Vince.
“... She was there.” More shuffling came from behind the door and I glanced over. “Jan. She watched them rape him. Call...” Halliday got my attention. “I need to call, to say—”

“Sorry?” Halliday shook his head. “You didn’t rape Jan, Jack.”

“
She’s my fucking family
.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible for her actions.”

“But my actions fed her fucking reactions.” Giving a hard sigh, I rested my head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Why do you never carry a goddamn clipboard?”

“Pardon?”

“And a pen,” I said, giving a sniff and tilting my head to look at him. “You never write anything down.”

Halliday cocked half a smile, shifting the mole above his top lip so the hairs almost tickled his nose. Christ, what I’d give for a pair of scissors now.

“I like to study people,” he offered over, flicking at the bottom of his trousers as though there was some dust there. “I can’t do that if I’m taking notes.”

“So you remember everything, how?”

Halliday tapped at his head. “Good memory recall.”

I let the ceiling take away how much I envied that skill. “That’s a little shit for all the times your kid gets into trouble, then, hmm?” I said quietly. “No forgive and forget.”

“You remember our conversation from a few months ago?” said Halliday, sounding impressed. “When I told you about my son trying to get me into Steampunk.”

“Doesn’t take much to connect the dots: watching, taking notes, hospital, bed, kid, books. Ergo a dad that doesn’t forgive and forget.”

“See, no trick in it,” said Halliday, winking over. “I do the same: keep a hold on certain words that match certain images, then go back and let them spark other memories.” Halliday pointed at me. “You have difficulty remembering things?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes. Details tend to pass me by.” I tapped my head. “Ah, but Martin, I’m told he’s a different bastard altogether.” I grunted a smile. “Certainly seems to be the only one who really pisses Gray off, anyway.”

“You don’t remember any of Martin’s meetings with Gray?”