Don't... (11 page)

“Well, yeah,” said Sam, waving them off. “So.”

“So?” said Steve.

“So you should return the favour.”

“You think you do us a favour?” shouted one of the guys from under the bonnet of a car. Aid, I thought, but he stayed buried, mainly to keep out of Sam’s line of sight.

“Fine coming from you, Aid, you’re always on about your kids.”

“Once. I mentioned them fucking once.” That was followed by “bollocks” and the clattering of a tool. Nobody wanted to be in Sam’s spotlight.

“Get back to work, Sam,” said Steve. “You’re putting everyone off their game today.” He came over as Sam sulked away. “Bloody cheeky sod,” said Steve. He’d only
just
figured that out? My coffee went on my worktable, and I grabbed my spanner off the floor, frowned, then ran it under a bottle of water I kept on my work station before setting back to work.

“How’s it going with the Strachan deal?”

I glanced at him. “Eager to get your own office, huh?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “So long as it’s bigger than yours.”

So I hid a smile there remembering Jan’s point on stereotypical mechanics and tools. “It’s getting there,” I said, keeping my voice down. “I just need time on the proposal over the coming week or so.”

“No problem; just let me know and I’ll arrange someone to cover your work load.”

If by a small miracle I pinched this deal from under my old man’s nose, I would miss Steve being here with me. But he worked damn hard and was more than ready to run his own place. The Strachan deal was right up his street.

“So,” whispered Steve, and I felt the car shift as it took his weight. “It not go well last night with that Breakdown package?”

“Fucking bollocks.” I caught my knuckles again and the spanner hit the floor, this time through temper. I glared at Steve.

“What?” He raised his hands in defence, but he had that playful shine in his eyes. “Just asking.”

“Well don’t,” I snapped. Giving a “pfft,” Steve picked the spanner up. “You really need to get laid, Jack.” He went and washed it under my bottled water and handed it over. “Maybe then you’ll see you need a 2ml spanner instead of that little shit there.”

I looked hard at the spanner in his hand. Bollocks. Where Sam missed every clue about me not being straight, me and Steve shared too much history for him not to. Still leaning into the engine, I gave a frustrated sigh and wiped my forehead on my coverall sleeve. I got a pat on my back. “Yep, laid.”

“What is it with you two wanting to know about my sex life? You not watching enough porn for your fix?” I flicked a look at anyone else interested in our conversation, and Aid quickly pulled Mike back under the bonnet of the car like they were chuckling girls gossiping behind the bike sheds.

“Just thought that guy yesterday would be more than enough to get you going.”

What? I looked at Steve, and then the personal issues reminded me about something else. “
Sam.
”

“Yo, boss?” came from the reception.

“You give out any private shit about my personal life again to a customer, I’ll pull off your gearstick and leave you a few ball bearings short of a load. We clear?”

“Hm.” That was strained and more than a little high. “Crystal, boss.”

“’Cause you know how fast I strip a car, right?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“And you’re really pissing me off.”

“Yeah, boss.” Glorious silence. “Boss?”

Fuck. “What?”

“I got my mate’s number for you here, okay?”

A few scoffs of laughter hit the air, but bodies seemed to disappear in bonnets, behind doors, or in pits out of sight. “Little fucking shit,” I mumbled under my breath, and I went over and grabbed a 2ml from my toolbox.

“He just wants to see you in a relationship so you—”

“What?” I said looking back at Steve.

“Chill,” said Steve, and it annoyed the hell out of me that he’d pinched my coffee and stood there sipping at it. I took it back with a
get your bloody own
stare. Sam didn’t actually make a bad coffee.

“And I’d like to see you settled in a decent relationship.”

“You want to tell Gray that?”

A look of fear crept into his eyes. “Well, y’know.”

I chuckled. “Besides, I already am,” I said with a scowl, and I took a sip of what was left of my coffee. “A real fucked up one where you play dad and Chelsea Bunny in there dons stockings and a skirt and does my mother. By the way,” I shifted my head toward the snickering bodies, “met the kids lately?”

“I’m mom?” Sam shouted through. “Woo-hoo, arranged marriages are legal, right? And I-I mean me and your dad get to keep the dowry, right?”

“Sam
,
” shouted Steve, adding a groan. “Cut it out, yeah?”

“And you keep quiet, dear,” shouted Sam, “I lost money because of you yesterday, forcing me out of picking up that client. I’ll make your ass sleep on the settee the way you’re going.”

I glared at Steve, making the connections. “And you were suddenly busy shopping with the missus for your kid’s birthday, huh?”

“I did,” said Steve. Then, “Eventually,” he added with a grin.

“Great. Now you’ve finished playing ‘find me a date,’” I said, downing my coffee in one, then stuffing it back in Steve’s hand, “why don’t you pair go fight over the washing up like any normal married couple. Oh, and tell Mom over there I’m gay and she needs to change her pink date book to a black one.”

“Funneh.” But Steve chuckled as he headed off, and I swore I actually heard them arguing over whose turn it was to wash up.

The gearbox took me another two hours, mostly swearing, some sweating, the rest hard graft, which was just in time to have Sue come in and tell me I’d got another one lined up. More cursing, only not in front of Sue. Part of me was a gentleman.

I hadn’t heard off Jan this morning, It hadn’t exactly put me in the best of moods. Add to that nothing off Gray. The latter I could get to grips with, maybe. But Jan?

Steve came over and offered to give me a hand. That helped a little, and we had it stripped within an hour, making up for the lousy time I’d put in on the first one.

“That yours?”

“Huh?” I said to Steve, winching the box back into place.

“Phone. I think your mobile just went off.”

Holding the box steady as Steve lowered it, I glanced over at my phone. “Sam.”

“Yurp.” He came over.

“Help Steve finish this.” If that was Jan—I started to shake a little.

“You sure you didn’t get lucky last night?” said Sam, moving opposite me. He grabbed the chain and took over guiding Steve down.

After pulling off my gloves, I looked at him over the phone as I tried to focus on the number. “You sure you don’t want to up the unemployment statistics?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “You got lucky last night.” He looked from me to Steve. “The boss, he got some nookie.”

“Sam!” said Steve; then he gave me a wink. “Take as long as you need, yeah.”

“Oh cheers, boss,” I said, and Steve nodded.

“Just need the wages to go with that,” he said. “Sort it out with Sue, should I?”

I gave him the finger, then moved over to my coat. “Thought it was supposed to mellow him,” I heard Sam whisper, but the rest was lost. I had a missed call and the number looked a little strange. Walking through the shop, I pressed redial and gave a wink at Sue. She blushed, which was kind of sweet considering she still did it after being with me nearly seven years. The phone rang, giving me enough time to take the stairs two at a time and head into my office.

“Jack?”

Christ. Jan sounded good on the phone. He also sounded out of breath.

“S-sorry, just had to run for a cab.” Something covered the phone, probably Jan’s hand, and I heard a muffled voice. Directions? “Yeah,” Jan was back with me, “I meant to give you a call from the airport this morning, but I managed to get an earlier plane than expected, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“No problem,” I said, giving a smile as I leaned against my desk. I’d forgotten the heart could beat so fast away from sex. “I wasn’t expecting it.” Lying shit.

“Means I’m able to call today’s meeting forward, so I’ll be back for,” A pause. “I’ll be back a little earlier tomorrow night.”

“What time?”

“About nine?”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah.” He sounded like he was smiling. “Erm...” A little nervousness the other end too? “I was wondering if you’d like to go out, maybe grab a meal?”

“You’re going to be too tired to go out, Jan. I can’t put you through that.”

“Well, there’s always the option of heated sex.”

I chuckled and glanced around my office. “You know it’s not all about sex, right? I’m happy with a DVD. I can also cook without burning things.”

There was a heavy sigh, maybe a relieved one? “Sounds real good to me, Jack. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Eating? It goes with my biological suit.”

“Hah. Not funny. You know what I mean.”

“No.” I chuckled. “I don’t mind. In fact chilling sounds a damn good idea to me too.”

“Yours or mine?”

My attention went to the computer. “Yours. You could pick me up on your way back from the airport, if you want.”

“It’s a date.”

I winced. Date was another word I hated.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve landed. You—well, you take care, Jack.”

“Yeah.” I felt my heart calming. “You take care too, Jan.”

The line went dead, and I sat with my phone next to my ear in true dumbass fashion. Jan had one hell of a sexy phone voice. Pity he wasn’t in to phone sex. He’d be good at phone—

Soft vibrations played close to my ear and my hopes pricked up knowing I had a message. Text sex seemed better; I wasn’t fussy. I thumbed my inbox and opened the message.

If fear doesn’t encourage aggressive rebellion: Don’t...

I scrolled down.

...bleed for me, Jack.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Bleed...

It took me a good five minutes of just staring into space before I realised I had another message.

For coming. Don’t...

Nothing else. I waited. Just waited.

...bleed, Jack.

How did the bastard know? He was inside my head sorting through every fucking box I’d tried to hide. And with each lid inched open, freed thrills raced across my stomach, almost causing me to double. Christ, it needed to stay buried.

Vibrations.

...bleed, Jack.

I let my hand fall to my side, phone to the table, and went over and locked my office door. A brief rest of head against the warm wood, I pushed away and closed the blinds. I’d never been a self-harmer; I didn’t like the feel of a blade against me without... I just... There was something, a kick, a jolt of electricity feeling it drag over my skin in company, in an intimate situation. My second boyfriend (hah, insert shaky laugh here) had introduced me to it. Hell, I usually fell for the older ones. That first initiation of his, I was just coming up to eighteen, and he’d given a nick to my inside thigh, a kiss, the feel of tongue sliding upwards, then another nick, body arching and pushing my cock deeper into his mouth. Pained pleasure, I’d never known anything so intense. It took sex to another level for me, one that had taken me to bad places until Gray had put a stop to it.

Another message rumbled on the wood of my desk. Head down, I went back over.

Nice letter opener, Jack. See there on your desk. Sharp. Clean. The metal... shimmers.

There were a number of things on my desk: a second appointment folder, pens, pencils, paperweights, a coffee cup I should have taken down.

And next to the mail, a letter opener.

It wasn’t my Katana replica I kept in my desk. This was new. About five inches handle to blade, silver, with a point that, when moved, shimmered.

I picked it up, felt its weight in my hand, and I cursed my cock’s vindictive streak as it hitched up a notch in my jeans. The blade looked sharp, the silver, never more smooth; the feel of the blade-edge as I ran my finger over the blade, never more... intense.

After a shrug off of my coveralls, feeling them fall to my waist, barely. I lifted the hem of my T-shirt, stared at the look of sharp blade against perspiring skin, then pressed it between hipbone and navel, muscles instantly contracting from the stab of cold.

Don’t... that was one stress point my body had kicked against for as long as I could remember. But cutting, it swept all of that away. No stress, just, just release.

Out of sight, out of—

“Huh.” It hurt as I cut a slow path, and I bit at my lip feeling heat race my body as skin split. Blood ran over the blade, giving the silver shimmer a rose-red taint, and I made a slow path over my hip refusing the need to double over crying
yes
.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

I’d cut another two lines before sense forced me to stop. I dug a hand into my coveralls, cupping my tip, stopping me from coming, anything to keep me in control, focused.

But it wasn’t enough; it was never enough. Not on my own. Doubling, the buzz humming my body shook me head to toe.

The sound of phone vibrating on wood brought me back, and I flicked at the message.

Don’t...

I groaned.

...come home, Jack.

A second later:

Don’t...

...come and bleed for me, Jack.

I was dressed, door unlocked, and scrambling down the stairs before I’d put my phone in my back pocket.

“Jack—Jack.”

I barely glance back at Steve as I grabbed my coat from behind reception.

“Personal,” I almost snarled, moving for the door. “You’re all right to lock up, yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” he didn’t look happy, “but, Jack, the client li—”

The door cut off anything else.

I couldn’t even remember how I got home. The sting from the knife wounds on my abdomen took me to a dark place I’d all but torn from my life since my late teens. Head fucks. Yeah, I’d had a few back then. But I pushed through my front door and never even heard it close behind me before I headed upstairs. Arms were pulled out of coveralls, and I closed my bedroom door only to rest my head against the cool of the wood, eyes screwed shut.