Then
"Jace, stop it, please," Gareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
They were sitting in the conference room at his mansion, where he debriefed the men from the mission. Dutan and a few other team leaders had come back to Dublin with Rami, Jace, Malachai, and Cracker.
Jace and Cracker had brought Callie back to London, using a fake passport they had made for her. It had proven a fickle situation, explaining to her parents what had happened, especially convincing them to take credit for the operation that brought her back safe and sound.
At least as sound as possible with what Callie had been through. She was a strong girl, and though her kidnappers had forced her into some degrading medical exams to determine her virginity, and she had been kept naked, bound, and in sub-human conditions, they had not beaten or raped her like some she had met during her captivity. The memories of a world she had never known existed, a world she should not have been aware of, would stay with her forever. What she had seen some go through while there, and the knowledge that they had left others like her behind, would haunt her, just as it haunted Gareth's men.
Callie's parents had offered Jace and Cracker money, an obscene amount, as the only means to thank them and all of Gareth's men. Naturally, they had declined and wished for them to spend the money on security for Callie, psychological help, and maybe a long vacation as a family. Mark and Elizabeth Reacher had insisted on them taking the money to help fund more operations to free innocent people like their daughter, and they had sworn if Gareth, who they had only heard referred to as The Dragon of the Underground, should ever need additional funding, they would gladly step in. There was no point in explaining to them that Gareth would never need their money, but they received their offer with gratitude because both Jace and Cracker knew that was all Mark and Elizabeth could do to feel they made a difference.
Callie's parents would forever feel indebted to Gareth.
It was touching how Callie had been reluctant to let Jace go. He represented safety for her. Jace, feeling influenced by Gareth and Phoenix, had made Callie promise to get an education and live life to the fullest, to make something of the chance she had gotten, and not let the experience inhibit her dreams. He had offered her his email and a hotline number for Roarke's team, telling her that if she ever needed help, they would be there, and Callie had promised to keep him updated on her life.
Cracker had put them in contact with some people he knew from the underground who did security. With them protecting her, Callie would be safe.
While there, Jace had been jittery every time they had walked the streets, looking over his shoulder constantly, to the point where Cracker had noticed and asked what was up. Jace had no way of explaining the horrors of his past that circled in his head, and how his fear of seeing him again while in London festered inside him like something rotten, taking him over and putrefying his every thought.
Jace had excused it with being homesick for Dublin and shrugged it off. Though Cracker had not seemed convinced, he had not pushed the subject and left Jace alone. And since he had clearly relaxed when arriving home, Cracker had not brought it up again.
"We need to take that bastard down!" Jace insisted passionately and slammed both hands onto the table for emphasis, leaning forward toward Gareth in a move to challenge his decision. How could Gareth just say 'sorry, no can do' to his report about the dog boy, and ask him to drop it? "You didn't see what I saw, the boy's eyes... He died inside when we walked away from him. Please, you need to do something."
"Jace..." Gareth sighed. It was not that he did not want to arrange for teams to storm that estate and save the enslaved souls there. God, he wanted to kill every sick, twisted fucker in those trafficking rings if he could. He wanted to save the victims and give them new lives and a chance for happiness. Every year, he spent a fortune supporting Roarke and his team in what they did. He pulled men from anywhere possible to help when needed, but it was never enough.
Had it been possible to identify the boy and his owner, they could have made a targeted attack on that person to free the boy. Gareth would have done it in a heartbeat, because what Jace had seen and done clearly had affected him. But Roarke had no leads to go on. The man was gone and the boy too. All they could do was continue as usual and hope they found him eventually.
Hopefully, before it was too late.
"Fuck this!" Jace raged and pushed back his chair before he stomped out while cursing loudly and smashing his fists into the walls outside the conference room on his way.
"Want me to go after him?" Surprised at what had just happened, Cracker looked to Gareth for instructions.
It was a first for them to see Jace behave like that. Sure, he had raised his voice from time to time, and he was not afraid to argue his case if he felt they needed to listen. But he had never challenged Gareth like that before.
In all honesty, nobody had.
And Jace was probably the only one who could get away with it.
"No. Give him a few and I'll go." Gareth looked around the table and saw the same defeat on their faces as he felt. They had executed the perfect plan and gotten one girl to safety and another by default because Roarke had raised hell about his 'prize' being snatched from him, so they had offered him a girl as compensation.
Double whammy.
That was a victory.
What irked all of them was the fact that it had been perfect. They had gone in there and looked at an opportunity to free dozens of enslaved people and done nothing, just to save their undercover people's ability to go in again at a later time.
The guilt was overwhelming and destructive.
With another sigh, Gareth stood and leaned on the table with his head bowed. "Guys, thank you for coming and thank you for your swift and textbook execution of a plan we put together on the fly. You all did exceptionally well, and I thank each and every one of you for your efforts. Please convey my gratitude to all your men and make sure they're taken care of." He shook his head and closed his eyes.
Sometimes, his life fucking sucked.
Everything ended with him. There was nobody up the line to pass the shit on to. His men had to live with what he had told them to do, and Gareth had to live with every decision he ever had made, because his word was final and every consequence in the wake of his decisions fell back on him. They were his burden every hour of every day, which might explain his excessive need to medicate the problems with alcohol.
"There'll be dinner in the dining room, and though this is not a celebration, I think we all need a drink after. I've reserved tables at one of my clubs. Please rejoice in what we've accomplished and be mindful to do your best to help those we let down." Gareth waved his hand without looking up and the room quickly emptied with low, thankful murmurs.
"Fuck!" Gareth cried out when he felt he was alone and hammered his fist into the table. He kicked his chair, making it fly through the room, and then he lost it.
Hate, anger, regret, and sadness flooded him and took over his senses. His rational thinking got pushed to the back of his mind by the guilt, blinding him to reason as he trashed the place.
Chairs flew through the air, glasses and bottles from the table ended up smashed against the walls. The table got flipped over, and every last item of furniture in the room got a piece of his mind. His knuckles were bloody, and his entire body ached from exertion when he stopped and ran his fingers through his hair, surveying the thrashed conference room.
"Fuck," he said, not in anger and frustration that time, but with a tired voice. He needed to learn how to control his temper. That was one of his biggest flaws. Sometimes, he just saw red, and only Jace could bring him back to his happy place.
Or just a state of calm; Gareth did not have a happy place.
Everything he did was to appease his family and live up to the expectations everybody had of him. His businesses were what he had resorted to in order to rebel a bit against his heritage and what his obligations forced him to do as the leader of the Adjenkov house.
Maybe that was his happy place?
The money he made working and handling businesses, real estate portfolios, and stock market speculations was his fun. It was not like he needed the extra income; it was just good entertainment for him to do something regular people did. Have a job, earn his merits, and get paid for what he did.
It was the closest he could get to a normal life.
Not all Russian mobsters sat in a sleazy restaurant, eating borscht and drinking tea from a Samovar while contemplating who to kill next. That stereotypical movie rendition of things was too farfetched from reality.
"G-man?"
Tired and sore in his entire body, Gareth looked up and saw Rami standing just inside the door. He held two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"He's in the pool house. I thought you might want these?" Rami held out his offerings to Gareth with a tentative smile. It was still a tossup if Gareth was ready to calm down and be reasonable again, or if he would continue his rampage. Rami was used to both and knew not to take anything personally when it came to Gareth's temper, and he was not afraid to fight the man if a fight was what he needed to clear his mind.
Gareth came over and took the glasses and bottle from Rami. "Thank you, my friend. I'll go talk with him."
Rami nodded in understanding, appreciating Gareth saying thanks and not just stomping out of there to yell at Jace or whatever he planned to do. That was Jace's problem to deal with. Rami had done what he could.
"Eh, boss?"
"Da, Rami?" Gareth turned just outside the room and faced Rami, who still stood and took in the destruction Gareth had left.
"Go easy on him, ok? You didn't see what he saw. The boy looked him straight in the eyes. He never looked at me. It was Jace who took all the boy's despair and hope. Jace felt the pain and misery and had to be the one to disappoint him. He's a lot more sensitive than me, and even I got affected." Rami drew in a breath and closed his eyes, immediately opening them again with a shudder. "I see the boy's desperation, boss. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like fucking shit. Imagine what Jace is feeling?"
"I know, mate. It's not like I'm mad at him for his outburst. I'm just sad I can't do anything to help. At least not yet. I need Roarke and his team to gather intel, and if he finds something, I promise I'll set all sails. Deal?"
"Yeah, tell Jace that. I think he needs to listen while not in a fit. Maybe he'll understand."
"I sure hope so." Gareth gave a nod and left the conference room. He was certain that Rami would call for cleanup, and somebody from maintenance would get the broken furniture replaced. After the first few times Gareth had wrecked a place, he had taken it upon himself to make an expense account only to replace what he had damaged.
It had proven to be a good idea.
Walking through the house, Gareth noticed how his men did an awfully good job at looking busy or simply power-walking in the opposite direction when they saw him. In a way, it bothered him they were afraid of him, as if he would seriously consider harming any of them. Yes, he lost his temper and inanimate things paid the price, but it was not like he would go apeshit on his guys. A bit of yelling, maybe. Ok, possibly. But he only got physical occasionally with Jace and Rami because they both knew what they went into when they tried to stop him before he was ready.
Sometimes, what he needed was a good brawl and maybe a few fists to the face to bang his brain back to normal. Then some whiskey and the world would be back on its axis in no time.
Gareth kept going over what he would say to Jace. There was no doubt in his mind that if Rami had described it as something that made him feel like shit, it would be hell on Jace. As carefree, tough, and cheeky as Jace was, he was also one of the gentlest men he knew. He was so in tune with other people and empathized in ways Gareth could never begin to understand. This was why he at times wanted to slap the little shit because he knew when he was a prick at meetings, he read people and used it for his own amusement. When socializing, Jace could do as he wished. Gareth did not give a crap. He found it funny and utterly entertaining.
"Jace, buddy?" When he got to the pool house, Gareth found Jace sitting on a bench by the window, hunched over, staring at his phone. He looked oddly out of place on the wooden bench, like the other benches around the circular room where they kept towels and pool equipment. It was not a place to sit and relax, the benches were just to place clothes on, and it was in no way cozy in there. The view was magnificent, though, with the lawns of the estate garden outside.
But that was the most positive Gareth could say about the pool house.
"She doesn't pick up or answer my texts," Jace mumbled and scooted over a bit when Gareth sat beside him.
"Tana?"
"Yeah."
"Here." Gareth poured them both a drink and put the bottle down, leaning back and relaxing with his legs casually crossed, hoping Jace would see him as non-threatening. He was not there to yell at Jace or get into his business. Gareth was there as a friend who was worried and wanted to make Jace feel better.
"I didn't mean to make it look like I dismissed your concerns..."
"It's ok. I get it. We can't do anything without information." Jace shook and leaned against Gareth, sobbing lightly. "He was there, Gareth."
"I know. I promise we'll do what we can to find him."
"No, you don't understand." Sniffing a bit, Jace hid his face at Gareth's shoulder. "He was there."
"Who?"
"Levi." The word was almost inaudible like Jace was afraid if he said it too loud, he would know where Jace hid or worse, manifest himself right there in the pool house.
The fear Jace felt had turned into nausea. There was no way to know if he wanted to burst into tears, vomit, or throw a fit. He had no control over his thoughts and how his body reacted. He felt himself shake, and chills of what might come ran through him. Cold sweat broke out all over again, though he had managed to stop it earlier. But admitting to Gareth what was really wrong brought everything back.
The anxiety was real.
"Are you sure, Jace?"
Angry and hurt, Jace pushed away from Gareth and swayed a bit because he got dizzier from moving when his body was upset to begin with. "How can you even ask that? I know what I saw. Do you think I can forget that asshole?"
Gareth took a deep breath to not react to Jace's rage.
He wished he knew exactly what had happened to Jace years earlier when he had come to him and asked for a transfer from London. No explanation, other than a vague story of 'Levi', an ex who did not understand the word 'no'. Gareth had assumed the 'no' was regarding not wanting to date anymore. It had never occurred to him it might have gone deeper and left scars on Jace that had never healed.
Just the fact that Jace claimed he had seen Levi at that place in Prague gave Gareth some truly unwanted images in his head of what Levi was capable of.
And if he had done something like that to Jace...
The Whiskey burned in his throat, trying to make its way back up. Gareth swallowed hard and rinsed the bile down with more whiskey. For once, he wished he had brought water or soda instead.
"I believe you, Jace. Calm down. Where did you see him?"
With a desperate sob, Jace lifted his red-rimmed eyes and tried to focus on Gareth through the tears. "In the room with the dog boy. Gareth, I swear, that kid is in hell if Levi gets near him."
"Ok, ok." Though no one could accuse Gareth of being a softie, he pulled in Jace and held him tightly against his chest, and let him cry, patting him on the back in the most comforting gesture he had to offer.
His heart ached for Jace.
It had not come as much of a surprise back then when Jace had revealed the ex he ran from was a man. Gareth had known Jace was more of a pansexual or even sapiosexual type than just straight. Though Jace called it bisexual, Gareth understood why Jace had kept that part private for years; even if it saddened him that Jace had not felt secure enough to at least tell him in confidence. When Gareth had taken over his faction at eighteen, many of the members were older and part of his grandfather's somewhat judgmental mindset on sexual freedom.
So, Gareth understood.
Whispering low, Gareth poured out calming words in random succession until Jace's crying let up a bit. The vibrations going through him with Jace's shaking made his blood boil once more, for completely different reasons than what he had thrashed the conference room for. He was ready to bring devastation to another room, though.
Maybe the pool house needed some redecorating?
Gareth seriously considered it because he needed to get his rage out. Somebody had hurt Jace, and there would be hell to pay if he got his hands on that fucker!
"I'm not going to ask what happened to you. If you want to tell me, I'm here, and I'm listening," Gareth said in a comforting tone and caressed Jace's hair. "And if you're not ready right now, my door is always open, and I'll drop anything for you."
"Thank you." Jace sat up and pulled out of Gareth's embrace with a shy smile. "It was bad. Can we leave it at that?"
They could.
Gareth did not wish to pressure Jace. They were friends and one day maybe Jace would be ok with telling his secrets. All he could do was provide him with a safe space and an opportunity to open up when he was ready.
It still killed him to see Jace cry.
Tears on Jace were wrong on so many levels. The only tears Gareth ever wished to see from Jace were tears of laughter when he made a prank or cracked a joke. His eyes would squeeze together, and smile lines would form at the sides of his eyes as the joyous tears came. His mouth would break into a huge grin, and the laughter was infectious.
That was the Jace he knew and loved, and the one he deserved to be.
"Whatever you feel is right. What can I do?"
"Catch the fuckers!"
There was no hesitation. Gareth found his phone in his pocket and tapped around a bit until the call tone came, and they waited together.
"Boss?" Cellmate's voice came through the speaker loudly in the quiet pool house.
"Listen up. Jace is going to give you information on a person of interest. I want to know everything about that son of a whore. From what he eats for breakfast to if he folds or crumbles his toilet paper. Sodding every tiny detail, Cellmate."
"Got it," Cellmate replied and did not even sound surprised by Gareth's intensity. "Go ahead, Jace."
Jace dried his eyes and coughed lightly to make sure his voice worked. "His name is Levi De la Rue." Jace nearly chuckled at that. 'De la Rue' meant 'of the street' and Levi was a street rat of the lowest order, a fucking gutter-dwelling lowlife. "He's originally from Luxembourg but moved to London as a teenager. I think he's about thirty-seven or maybe thirty-eight by now."
"Noted. Do you think he's still in London?"
"I can't be sure. He owns a business that imports expensive watches. Back in the day, he had a small boutique in Mayfair. If he still has it, I can't say."
"No worries. I'll check it out."
"Thank you, Cellmate," Jace said with gratitude and a smile at Gareth. He felt how his back let up and allowed his body to relax a bit. He had felt strung as tight as a bowstring since they had informed him that he was going to London to bring Callie home.
It felt good to not be rigid constantly.
And it felt even better knowing that Gareth had his back and was willing to help, even with the minimum of information Jace had shared. That was a genuine friend, one Jace thanked the universe for daily.
"Anytime, Jace." Cellmate said it as he always did when one of Gareth's men dictated information on somebody they needed to track. He did not know who the person was, or what they would do when found. His job was to locate them or dig up some dirt, and then his concerns were over. "Is that all, boss?"
"Sort of. When you find him, can you chart his traveling for me? I want to know where he's gone and when, for how long, and everything. I need to see if there's a pattern coinciding with Roarke's team's invites to sales."
"No problem. I'll get on it and call you when I have something. Or do you want me to report to Jace?"
"Jace is lead on this. Report to him," Gareth said without giving it much thought. It was Jace's mission to catch Levi and save the dog boy. He deserved to be lead, and Gareth trusted him explicitly. If it could rid Jace of a demon from his past and bring some relief in saving the dog boy, it would be a win-win for Gareth.
"No worries. Jace, I'll be in touch."
"Thank you, Cellmate."
Gareth tucked his phone back in his pocket when Cellmate had ended the call. The whiskey taunted him from the floor. He needed a drink about as much as he needed his next breath. It broke him apart to see Jace looking like a kicked puppy.
That was not Jace. Jace was confident, smart, and cheery. He was the glue that kept them all together, and he did not want to think about what would happen if that glue came undone.
"Jace, I'm giving you this, under the condition that you don't do anything foolish. You pick your team, and if my suspicions are correct, you'll need to work with Roarke and his men. They have the expertise. I want reports, but I'm not getting involved, and you fucking come to me when you have something, and I'll provide you with the men or resources you need. Got it?"
"I appreciate that. I need to do this." Jace paused. "Can we keep the details of this assignment under wraps? I don't want people to know why I'm doing it."
Gareth nodded in understanding. None of them wanted Jace's personal life blasted through loudspeakers inside his organization. "I'll say I've assigned you to it because of the dog boy, people will understand."
"Thank you," Jace said with a relieved sigh and visibly relaxed.
"Pour me a whiskey and we're good, mate," Gareth replied with a cheeky grin and downed the first drink Jace gladly poured for him but sipped the next. "There's dinner soon, and we're going out after. Do you feel up for it?"
Food did not sound bad.
Jace was not in the mood to socialize, but compared to being alone, he would choose dinner any time. Maybe what he needed was to drink his brains out and get laid to push everything aside for a bit. Though, what he really wanted was a hearty dose of Tana's everlasting good mood and dumb jokes. She could make him forget with some of her lethal alcohol concoctions and take away greasy foods while watching the Die Hard trilogy until they passed out.
Somehow, the idea of getting laid did not sit too well with him. With Tana, he would be safe from doing something stupid.
"Dinner I can do. We'll see about going out. Maybe my bed calls too loudly at some point. I've not exactly slept well since that night."
"If you want to go to bed, I can accept that, but I'd prefer if I knew you were not alone. At least stay here for the night." Gareth swallowed the rest of his whiskey and stood up, offering his hand to Jace, who took it and stood too.
Gareth put his right hand on Jace's left shoulder and Jace reciprocated. They leaned their foreheads together in their brotherhood gesture. The hand on the shoulder symbolized they would always have each other's backs and the meeting of the foreheads showed they thought as one.
They looked at each other with understanding when they pulled back.
It had not been an order, just plain concern. That was what Jace valued in his friendship with Gareth. Yes, he was his boss and could be quite dictatorial and hard-headed, but as a friend, he was the best anybody could ever wish for. What they did for each other, nobody could really understand.
Gareth allowed Jace to see him behind his mask. The cold, ruthless leader and workaholic let him see the loneliness and longing for another life, something only genuine friendship and trust over years of knowing each other could have nurtured. Which was why Jace could calm Gareth. When things got out of hand, he knew which buttons to push.
And Jace let his guard down with Gareth. That void left in Jace from basically losing his family at an early age, Gareth filled for him. Gareth was his brother and father all in one, and though Gareth would not appreciate the title, he was a mother too. That he had just shown by asking Jace to 'stay at home' with his family, rather than go to his place and be alone.
"Come on, let's get some dinner." Gareth grabbed the bottle and waited for Jace to compose himself to leave the safety of the pool house and face other people again.
"Maybe we should make a stop at the hospital ward before the dining room?" Jace smiled knowingly at Gareth's busted-up knuckles where dried blood caked at the wounds.
"Fuck that. I'm not a freaking princess. I just need to wash my hands and slap a bandaid on them. With a bit of whiskey, it's forgotten in no time." Gareth brushed it off like he always did. He had an aversion toward hospitals. He would have to be truly injured to willingly go there.
Even then, it would probably not be willing.
A few bandaids, a couple of whiskeys, and some random talking later, Gareth found himself sitting at the head of the table, observing Jace talking up a storm with the guys there for dinner. He was back to his usual self, cracking jokes and being silly, though Gareth saw that haunted look he got once in a while.
They were about done with dessert when Jace left the table with his phone in hand. He did not leave the room; he just pulled away for some privacy. Though it was not his business, Gareth eavesdropped shamelessly.
"Thank you for calling me back. I'm almost done with dinner. When will you be home?"
"Is it ok if I come by?"
"I'll explain when I get to your place."
Gareth saw Jace nod at the conversation and smiled because it looked like Jace would not be alone that night. He was not a big fan of Tana; she was like a Jace with tits. As if the world could handle more than one of that? He did, however, appreciate the friendship she offered Jace. That was something Gareth had no problems with, and Jace seemed happier with her in his life and had been happy since he had moved to Dublin and met her.
If she could help him calm down and cheer him up a bit, that was all that mattered.
"Ok, I'll finish up here and come by in about half an hour. Thank you." Jace paused. "Want me to bring you some dinner? There are plenty of leftovers."
"Ok. See you soon."
Jace put his phone away, relief plastered all over his face as he walked to Gareth.
"G-man..."
Gareth chuckled. "You don't have to say anything. Say hi to Tana from me. Off with you."
"I will, thank you." Jace blew out a breath and waved at people. He was not in the mood to say goodbye and maybe get sucked into another conversation. He rushed to his room to brush his teeth and wash his face. While he was at it, he changed his button-up shirt to a soft t-shirt and was off.
Some twenty-five minutes later, he parked his car and walked in, sending praises to the architect for having put in elevators. He was too drained to do stairs. The ones at Gareth's mansion were more than enough.
One knock was all it took before the door got ripped open.
"Are you ok?"
It was like Jace's entire body relaxed at the soothingly caring voice laced with worry. That was what he needed.
"No."
"Don't just stand there, come in." The door was held open for Jace to step inside and closed after him. "What's wrong? What can I do to help?"
Jace closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, then he looked up.
"Aftercare?"
Hi dear Wattlings.
Thank you for reading.
Jace is fighting some real issues with his past and he finally told who he had seen in that room. He went to the only place where he could find some peace, maybe he'll get it there? You think Cellmate will be able to find Levi?
If you like it, then pop a vote and please leave comments. The comments are important for me to know how the story is progressing and the characters are developing. And I'd love to know what you think and interact with y'all.
Give me a follow too for updates on other work and put this book in your library. I'd appreciate that.
Love, Alix
Published: September 20th, 2021. ©Alix Davenport, Copenhagen