Page 93 of Natural-Born Cullers

Don’t run with gut instinct.

Don’t fuck up everything and everyone he loved inside those walls.

Because he had before. So bloody badly.

He couldn’t do what he did without having a price to pay. And this would always be it. No matter who he killed beyond these gates, he’d always lose a hold on everyone he loved as penance. Always Jack’s threat. Always Jan’s. Always….

Martin.

“Goddamn it.” Gray thumped the steering wheel once, twice. “Why him? Why Light? Why hurt fuckingJan?”

You ready for that offer of a friend…

… yet?

More details fell into place, and Gray screwed his eyes shut, then loosened his grip on the steering wheel and eased out of his Merc. As he made his way over, windows and doors stayed open. Vents had now been checked, and according to his phone call to Ray, whatever agent had been found was removed for safe disposal, no doubt for some further tests on Cal’s part too. His father’s Range Rover stayed farther back in the courtyard, closer to Jan’s and Jack’s. Cal had given everyone the all clear, and… that meant Jan, Jack, Mart—

They hadn’t needed to be evacuated.

Tightening his jaw, Gray made it into the reception hall. Subdued talk came from the lounge, and Gray lowered his look, automatically going for it. But knowing he needed to be anywherebutwalking through into there, he stopped, then headed for his office, rubbing at his head and wishing to God he could bury everything going on inside. He needed time to… not react. He needed time to notdoanything.

“Son?”

Coming to a stop, Gray gave a hard sigh and didn’t look back as Cal came over.

“We found four cans.” Cal sounded distracted as he drew up to his side. “Bloody powerful concoction, and we were dead right on the composition mix, but luckily no more have been found. Did you find out where he is after he took out the guard at Myers’?”

Drip… fucking drop….

Gray watched him for a moment, saying nothing, and Cal frowned a little. “Teams are there, handling your… talk.”

Drip. Don’t fucking… drop.

“Hey.” Jan came over and stopped by them, a brush going to Gray’s arm. “You okay. You—”

Fuck.

Gray went in, cupping his jaw and tugging him in closer, but he pulled away in the next breath. “Get him away from me, Dad.” He glanced at Cal. “I can’t be around either of them for a while. Not now.” He snorted, then shrugged. “I destroy them every time I react, so I’m trying so fucking badly to not react at the moment.”

“Oh-kay….” Cal lost any smile, and he caught Jan’s arm just as Jan went to say something, to step in close again with a serious frown. “C’mon, son,” he said gently. “Give him some space.”

“Yeah.” Jan pulled away from Cal’s grip. “Funnily enough, I can see Gray needs space.” But damn his good soul, he didn’t come any closer, just frowned Gray’s way again and gave a nod. “Okay. Get in to your study. Stay away from the drink. Give me a call when you’re ready to talk, when you’re ready to—”

“It’s not you he wants a talk with, Jan.”

Gray stilled, tried in every which way not to look,notto react.

Martin leaned against the entranceway to the lounge, his glance down at his feet as he crossed his arms.

And there it was.

That look didn’t deny… anything.

Not one… sodding… thing.

Cal shot a look between them, then as Gray went to head over, he put a grip on Gray’s shoulder, one rough enough to hurt, to pull him away.

“You think we need to talk, Mart?” Gray took Cal’s grip off and kept his look levelled on Martin. “I mean, c’mon, you read profiles so bloody well. Read me.” He threw out his arms. “What, exactly, doyouthink I need to know here?”

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