Page 70 of Jazz
The side of my neck ached, my fingers touching over the spot, a little bump. A bruise, I could feel the aching sensation developing. Fuck’s sake, V. It had fucking hurt. And theneverything had gone black, like someone had just pulled the plug. Poof.
Slowly this time, I guided a leg out, my eyes catching on the fluffy bunny fucking fleece pyjamas I had on. They’d tortured me. This was torture. Maybe even worse than hanging on a fucking hook. My legs shook as I rose onto them, the instructions not quite getting to my brain that they needed to move.
And then that smell. A thick, homely mix of fried onions, corned beef, bacon, and soft, stewing potatoes. A smell that belonged to a cold winter evening and hand-me-down jumpers, the sort that filled your chest and made you ache a bit, even if you didn’t know why. Comfort, with a layer of grease. Panackelty. Home.
“Jazz. Oh, Jasmin,” Mam’s voice rang shrill through my sluggish brain as I stepped into the kitchen.
She wiped her hands down the front of her apron and scuttled across the kitchen on short legs, wrapping her arms around me.
“I thought we’d lost you. I thought I’d lost another baby.” She hugged me tight, deceptively strong arms holding onto me, like she would never let go again.
Her face was wet with tears when she pulled back, glistening track marks showing. I was pleased to see her. I really was. But I felt numb. Weird. The tranquilliser that the Viking shot me with must have dulled everything.
Soft hands cradled my face, her eyes roaming over the bruises and the splits in my skin.
“My poor baby. Look at the state of you. Don’t you worry. Fury will make them pay. All of them.”
“No. Mam. Where’s Chase?”
“The man who took you?”
“Yes. No. Not exactly.”
“You never have to worry about him again. Grays always get revenge. He’ll never come after you again.”
“No,” I whispered. “No. No. No.”
“Jazz. Baby. I don’t understand.”
“Where have they got him, mam?”
“You know I don’t know. That’s club business.”
“And you know I know that’s full of shit.”
“Jasmin Athena Gray. If your dad could hear you speaking to me like that…”
“Dad isn’t here, Mam.”
“And if he was that Rat wouldn’t have made it out of Middlesbrough with his insides still in his body. And there would have been bodies in the streets while they were looking for you. That’s what Indie and Fury should have done. Taken everyone out rather than running up and down the north east trying to figure out who had you.”
Her tears were flowing again, cascading down a face red with anger.
“Chase didn’t hurt me, mam. He rescued me. He stopped them raping me. He stopped Grim taking me.”
“Didn’t stop them doing that to your back though, did he?”
Mam’s anger was rising. I could see it on her face. My father had been hard. He’d done what he needed to do. But ouranger issues came from Mamma Dot. It was her temper me and Fury had inherited. Jake seemed to have escaped the temper and the club.
“Chase didn’t do any of this. He took out his own club to get me free. They’ll kill him if he goes back.”
“And the Kings will kill him for what he has done to you. To the club.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I whispered the words like they were burning my tongue. “For what he’d done to the Kings. Not me. It’s all about the club. No wonder Jake left.”
“Jasmin,” Mam sounded surprised.
“Tell me where they have him, Mam.”