Page 68

Once Jack had his hands on his grab-bag—he had them stashed in a number of cities—he felt a little more settled.

The bag contained passport, cash, prepaid credit cards for when he couldn’t use cash, an Omega watch he could pawn, a folding knife, a small medical kit, phone, two SIM cards and a packet of wet wipes.

Nothing that would incriminate him. Nothing he couldn’t explain if the police searched him. Hopefully.

The backpack held everything he needed to move on, to start again.

Almost everything.

He stopped for a coffee and took out his phone, turning it over and over in his hand.

He felt lost without Thomas, which shocked him.

Thomas had been part of his life for so long.

He’d been far closer to him than most fathers were to their children.

Thomas had taken Jack’s education very seriously.

He treated everything as a learning experience and now Jack wondered if he’d thanked him often enough.

The thought that it was too late brought a lump to his throat.

Jack had done countless missions on his own, but every job had come through Thomas.

Advice, criticism and payment, all through Thomas.

Like Thomas, Jack was both good guy and bad.

He was plausible deniability. Saint and sinner.

He removed players from the game, accepting that he could be removed himself at any moment.

Was that what he wanted?

It had been.

He’d travelled thousands of miles, stayed in hundreds of hotels and guest houses from five-star luxury to grubby rooms. But Thomas—regardless of which house he was currently using—had been his home.

Someone to come back to. That had gone. Jack had to keep moving yet he was running from no one in particular.

No matter what precautions he took, he could be found.

The more wet work he did, the truer that became.

Thomas had always told him retirement wasn’t possible.

But Jack wasn’t Thomas. He had Zeph. Zeph with his sweet smile, his quirky sense of humour, his brilliant mind and forgiving nature.

Zeph whose kisses set Jack’s world on fire.

The world had thrown such crap at Zeph. A shitty, homophobic father, a stepmother who didn’t care about him, a crazy stepsister, cancer—twice, a disaster of a boyfriend who kept letting him down…

But Zeph had never told him to fuck off.

He would never tell me to do that.

He loves me.

Jack almost spilt his coffee. He’d told Zeph not to get attached. More than that. He’d told Zeph not to fall in love with him. Jack had thought that was all he’d needed to do, to make that clear. I’m an idiot.

He’d wanted to get out for a while . Not out of Zeph’s life, but out of the life he currently had. Thomas knew that. Had he thought his death might push Jack back into the world? Could it?

He called Thomas’s burner. No answer. Called another number. No voice from the grave in his ear. He and Thomas had talked about what to do if either of them was killed or simply disappeared.

Assume the worst. Jack had already done that.

Take precautions. He’d never stop doing that.

Disappear. For how long?

Play a different game. Jack had only one move. To quit.

He was out. No more grey lines.

His heart thumped hard.

None of Thomas’s contacts had Jack’s number, though Jack had theirs and knew where to find suppliers of passports, weapons, poisons…

No properties were in Jack’s name—that he knew of.

The Texan oil guy job had almost gone wrong.

For the first time, Jack had come across another like him.

Jack had slipped away without interacting with the other killer but it was Jack who’d taken the shot.

Thomas had been concerned that Ben Craddock’s death had kicked up something that might come back to bite them.

But it was months later and nothing had happened.

Or had it? Had that other killer fucked things up for Thomas?

Jack checked his offshore accounts. He had enough money to last him several lifetimes, but he’d be bored if he did nothing.

What job could a retired assassin do?

Anything except for more killing. He had skills, just no qualifications. But he couldn’t sit at home for the rest of his life. So…security work, teaching, take a degree, buy a business…?

None of that might be enough to save him, enough to make him happy.

There was only one thing—one person who could do that.

When Zeph arrived back that afternoon, Jack suspected he was surprised to see him still there. Jack had surprised himself by staying. It was a start.

Zeph flung himself into Jack’s arms. “Are you okay?”

Jack held him tight. Now he was okay. “You’re early.”

“I have things to talk to you about.” Zeph pulled free.

“None of the dead men was Thomas. We have names for eleven of them, but the twelfth guy was definitely not him. You need to pretend I didn’t tell you this, but a CIA guy came in this morning.

He knew I’d spotted Thomas close to Al-Talib.

He told me Thomas was dead and I should stop looking for any links. ”

He stared at Jack expectantly.

“Well?” Zeph asked. “I don’t think Thomas is dead.”

Jack had been wondering too. Had Thomas faked his injury?

“I had an idea, which is why I came back early. Where did Thomas get Django?”

Jack groaned. “Good point.” He looked up the vet in the village and called them.

“Aversham Vets. How can I help you?”

“Can I speak to Penny, please?”

“Speaking.”

“Hi, Penny. Thomas told me you were looking after Django. I wondered if I could take him for a walk.”

“Oh, right, but… He’s gone.”

Jack raised his eyebrows to Zeph. “Gone? Gone where?” He made sure he sounded shocked.

“He ran off.”

“Oh no. Have you told the police?”

“Um… I’m still hoping he might come back.”

He thought about challenging her but let it go. “Call and let me know if he does. He’s a sweet dog. I don’t like the idea of him being lost.”

“I will. Bye.”

“She ended that abruptly,” Zeph said. “So?”

“I’m pretty sure Thomas is alive and has Django. He won’t have stayed in the village. He knows better than that. He won’t use any place I know. But…” He exhaled. “I feel I can let go now.”

“You said he was seriously wounded. Did he fake it?”

Jack nodded. “He was desperate for me to leave him. He needed to get away too.” He felt as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders. Thomas might or might not have retired himself, but he’d opened the door for Jack to stop working.

“Now how are you feeling?”

“Hopeful that he’s still alive. Pissed off with him that he felt this was the best route.”

“He’s let you go,” Zeph said quietly.

“I think maybe he’d been waiting for the chance. You remember when that guy was shot in Cambridge?”

Zeph audibly gulped. “Your hotel.”

“My job.”

“Oh God,”

“I think Thomas accepted the job because he knew I’d come to you. He kept telling me I shouldn’t have anything to do with you but… I think he wanted me to try.”

“There’s something else I want to talk about,” Zeph said. “Like to go for something to eat?”

Jack’s first inclination was to say no, not to risk going out, not yet, but if he didn’t start to try and live a normal life, when would he risk it? He could still be careful.

“Yes.”

Zeph beamed. “Hungry now?”

Jack nodded.

They walked down into Greenwich with Jack still alert for anything and anyone he didn’t like the look of. Zeph slid his hand into his and Jack squeezed his fingers and kept hold.

The restaurant wasn’t far. Because they were early, there was plenty of room. They opted for a table in the garden at the rear. Jack sat with his back to the brick wall with a view of everyone coming towards them. They ordered gourmet burgers, triple-fried chips, and glasses of lager.

“I wondered if you’d still be there when I got back,” Zeph said.

“I wondered that too.”

“I’m glad you were because I resigned today.”

Jack gaped at him. “You did what?”

“I have so much holiday owing that I don’t need to go in again. My boss was a bit…disappointed, but it isn’t as if he can force me to stay.”

“But that was your dream.”

“One of them.” Zeph stared at him. “You can have more than one dream. You said something to me a long while ago. A warning. I mean, I heard it. I heard what you said and I tried. I did try but I failed.”

“Not to walk under ladders?”

Zeph gave a sad nod. “I keep forgetting. I’m asking for trouble, I know.”

The food arrived. They both ignored it and kept staring at each other.

“I want you to give us a chance,” Zeph whispered. “I have money saved. We can go anywhere we like. We can keep moving if that’s what you want to do. I just want to be with you. I can’t bear it if you leave again. I just can’t.”

Jack reached for his hand and stroked his fingers. Even if he’d known what to say, he didn’t think he could have managed to speak. He was struggling with emotions he’d denied himself all his life.

“I know that each time you’ve left, it’s been because you were trying to protect me.

I know when you told me not to love you that you were trying to stop me getting hurt.

I get all that. But I love you. And I’m not sorry.

I won’t be sorry for something that’s good and bright and shining.

However long my life is, I’d rather spend it with you than without you.

” Zeph shot him a nervous smile and pulled his hand away from Jack’s to pick up his burger.

“Now eat. You don’t need to say anything. Just think about it.”

Jack ate.

They walked back to Zeph’s flat, hand in hand.

“Have you thought long enough?” Zeph asked. “I mean, I resigned today.”

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, I heard.”

“Should I add in other incentives?”

“Such as.” Jack was walking more and more quickly, tugging Zeph along with him.

“Sex!” Zeph whispered the word. “It’s good between us, right? I mean, I want to keep practising. Practice makes perfect. Possibly. Can it really get better and better? Because it has so far. I mean, that’s a bit worrying really. What if we mess up? How will we cope with the disappointment?”

“You’re not walking fast enough.”

A smile played across Zeph’s mouth.

Jack started to run, pulling Zeph along.

By the time they were in the flat, they were both laughing.

“I’m too exhausted to fuck you now,” Jack said.

“Then I’ll fuck you.”

Jack’s heart lurched.

“I mean, I’ve not done it before but I know what to do.

How hard can it be? Harder the better, I guess.

Though I do love it when you fuck me, especially when you have me face down and you’re holding me in place.

I really like that and I don’t know why, because I also like it when I can look at you.

I like to watch your face when you come undone.

It’s the only time you’re completely relaxed.

I want you to look like that more often.

I need you to shut me up now. I’m only going on and on because I’m nervous.

Did I tell you that I resigned today and I have no other job to go to?

It’s the most reckless thing I’ve ever done apart from get involved with you. ”

Jack kissed him, pulling him down onto the floor just inside the door. He pinned Zeph’s hands above his head and ground his hips against him, scraping his teeth over Zeph’s mouth, then his chin, his neck, while Zeph gasped and shuddered.

“Too many clothes,” Jack said.

He managed to peel off his T-shirt before Zeph pulled him back onto his mouth, his kisses increasingly desperate and greedy.

Jack struggled with the buttons of Zeph’s shirt, then gave up and ripped it open, the buttons pinging on the wooden floor.

He could feel how hard Zeph was as they rocked into each other.

He thought for a moment about letting Zeph fuck him, how it would feel to have him inside his body, being part of him. He wanted that but not this time.

They writhed together as Jack manoeuvred them out of their shoes, then their trousers.

Socks were pulled off, then all that was left between them was their underwear.

Different shades of grey. Jack pushed himself up and hauled Zeph to his feet, still kissing him as he pulled Zeph’s boxers over his hips and down his legs.

“Can you… Can you… Can you…” Zeph gasped.

“What?” Jack panted into Zeph’s neck.

“Can you fuck me against the wall? I sort of wanted you to do it without me asking but I figure if I don’t ask, I won’t get. Can you?”

Jack laughed. “Oh, the wonderful things that Jack can do, he can go like a cow, he can go moo moo. He can—”

“What have you done with my boyfriend? Shut up, Dr Seuss, and get the lube.”

Jack came back with the lube and without his underwear. Zeph was leaning against the wall, his lips kiss-swollen, his eyes wide as Jack strode towards him. Jack’s heart missed a beat when his gaze fell on Zeph’s scar. Faded now but a reminder that he might have lost him.

“Turn around,” Jack said.

Zeph faced the wall, put his head against his arms and tipped back his hips. Jack dragged his gaze down the length of Zeph’s spine over his smooth, tight backside. He was desperate to get inside him, but he fumbled and squirted lube everywhere except where it was needed.

“We going for Turkish wrestling?” Zeph asked. “We need olive—argh.”

Jack pushed two fingers inside him and shut him up.

For two seconds.

“JackJackJackJack…”

He threaded his fingers in Zeph’s hair and held him in place as he stroked his way to his prostate. Zeph’s knees buckled as Jack touched it.

“Oh God. That feels so good,” Zeph said with a moan. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Next time,” Jack whispered.

“Promise?”

“Yes.” Jack had spent his life lying but he didn’t want that to be a lie.

Jack’s cock replaced his fingers, and one long, slow push brought his hips up tight to Zeph’s arse with Zeph pressed against the wall.

“Okay?” Jack asked.

“Yes. I want to come so badly. Like…now. Too fast. So I’m mentally listing all possibilities for sex. Positions and places. Thank fuck it’s complicated maths.”

Jack laughed and started to move. He dropped his hands to Zeph’s hips and wrapped his fingers around them, securing him in place, anchoring him into his thrust, then he moved faster and harder, and drove both of them wild.

Zeph dropped a hand to his cock and Jack knocked his fingers aside, wrapping his own hand around him, jerking Zeph off in the same rhythm as he was fucking him.

“So good, oh God, fuck…” Zeph spurted into his hand and Jack came too, his world turning brilliant white as every cell in his body joined in the explosion.

Jack pressed his face into the junction of Zeph’s neck and shoulder and mouthed I love you.