Breakdown by Jack L. Pyke Read Free Book Online Page A

Halliday said quietly. “Are you aware you’re digging into your hip, making it bleed?”
    Quiet.
    “Would you prefer to go casual with your photo?”
    Everything stopped there, all anger, grief, confusion over a whole shit-load of tumbling images. Everything. Lifting my head, I looked at Halliday. “Fuck you.”
    He was holding the photo, one of Gray as he got out of the Master Circle’s signature car: a black Mercedes Benz. He wore a black suit, the heat forcing him to wear black sunglasses. And stones around those tyres, I’d counted all the stones around the tyres of the Merc, Vince had raped, and Gray had watched. In his study, he’d had the DVD. He’d watched, he’d... stones, I’d counted every one of those fucking stones a thousand times over and—“
Fuck—you
.”

Chapter 4
Ground Rules
    I kept down, the cover nearly burying my head, and tried to ignore the stupid idiot standing by the door. My eyes were heavy, matching that fucked-up drunk feeling that dulled sound, sensation, and how life kept trying to spin. Some bastard of a blunt knife had hollowed out life, and I needed—wanted sleep now, despite whatever shit they’d given me.
    A few moments later, shaking came at my shoulder, but it only had me gripping the blanket tighter, needing to focus on not smacking the bastard for trying to drag me into the land of those who only supposedly gave a fuck, or who got paid to give a fuck.
    “First therapy session with Dr. Halliday is in half an hour. Let’s get you washed, dressed, and eating breakfast, yeah?” said Craig.
    I turned over, pulling the blanket tighter. “Fuck breakfast. Fuck you.”
    “I’m straight, and eating your breakfast is the better option over screwing it, especially if it’s porridge. Up in five, Jack.” Craig disappeared, and that was fine by me. From the sound of things, the breakfast rush was well underway, and wandering voices filtered up from outside. From the day-care leaflet that Craig had handed over, and how regimented the army was in general, that put it at about eight in the morning. I’d usually already be at work by now, but I’d been locked away from that too.
    I hid a little more in the covers.
    How had Jan coped on his own? Was he back at his, tucked up in bed, trying to chase sleep, or had he caved in and gone crawling with twisted soul and fucked-up footsteps back to Gray? Wouldn’t have blamed him; life was fucking cold without both, here in the shadows. Maybe that was why the bastard had done it? To get at Jan, make him dependent, and get me out of the picture? Christ knows he’d pulled my ass from the fire often enough in the past, maybe Jan was his focus no—
    “Okay, up now, please, Jack. Five minutes are over.” Craig was back in the room and the shower was flicked on in the en suite. “It’s not a problem to bring your breakfast in here for today. I will have to watch, and it’s only for this morning, okay?”
    I closed my eyes.
    “Jack, you need—”
    “Leave me the fuck alone,
Craig
.”
    Movement stopped in the room. “No chance. You need to wash and eat,” Craig said eventually and the sound of a case being dragged from under the bed came. “Also change.”
    I shifted slightly, knowing I was still in my clothes from yesterday.
    The zipper to my case came open, then—“Boxers, jeans and T-shirt okay?”
    “You need to stay the hell away from my clothes.” Quiet, quiet was good. Only Craig wasn’t being quiet. Weight landed on the bed and it had the feel of clothes.
    “I’ve brought some towels too, also some cream and antiseptic wipes for your wound. I will need to do the latter once you’ve showered. Are you okay with that?” The case was slid back under the bed and things fell quiet, nearly enough to finally allow me to sleep, until Craig coughed. “Come on, Jack, get up. Eat. You had nothing all day yesterday.”
    There wasn’t even work to get up for now. And without work, it was pretty pointless doing anything