Trusting Jack (MC Securities Book 1) Page 7

  He scratched the back of his neck and hunted for a way to put it right. “All I’m saying is don’t worry about the cost. It’s my treat and you can have anything you want.”

  Jack glanced up at him. “I like pizza.”

  Michael opened his mouth, but shut it again before he put his foot even further in. “Then pizza it is.”

  Michael looked back at the menu. “Starters?”

  “Garlic bread?”

  Michael almost did it again, but instead this time smiled. “Done. How about the sharing plate of antipasto too? I’m hungry.”

  Jack shrugged. “If you like.”

  They sat in silence. Michael wondered how the hell he could recapture the happy excitement from moments ago. He wanted to reach out and take Jack’s hand, but he felt foolish doing so. He wasn’t even sure how men holding hands in a restaurant would go down.

  The waiter arrived and broke the tension but gave Jack a serious once-over which irritated Michael far more than it should have. They ordered, and Jack watched the waiter walk away.

  “Stop ogling the staff.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think to stop them.

  “He ogled me first.” Jack waggled his eyebrows.

  “I’ll say,” Michael mumbled, but Jack just laughed.

  The waiter brought the bottle of red that they had ordered and poured. Jack took a sip and then raised his eyebrows. “It’s good.”

  He sounded surprised, but Michael managed to keep his mouth shut. He took a sip and nodded. “It’s not bad at all.”

  He was still casting around for something to say that would get the evening back on track, but Jack beat him to it.

  “So, what do you want to know?” He took a large drink of the wine, propped his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his hands. Candlelight flickered over his features. Dark hair sat soft and clean over his forehead, and soft music swirled around them. The air was rich with aromas of Italy, and Michael wanted to gaze into his eyes. He made himself look away as he took a breath.

  There was a lot he wanted to know, but now he felt…unsure. He didn’t want to probe, didn’t want to rake up old memories. Couldn’t bear it to see him cry again. He shrugged. “Whatever you want to tell me.”

  “Whole life story, or just the bit at the end?” Jack’s smile was a bit wan.

  Michael sat back and watched while that waiter picked up the wine bottle to top up Jack’s glass while giving him a seductive smile. He shocked himself when he reached out over the table and took Jack’s hand. He was even more surprised when Jack curled his fingers around his and held him tight.

  The waiter grinned at them as he walked away. Michael took yet another deep breath, raised the wineglass, and took a healthy swallow.

  “All of it?”

  Jack was staring at their hands, so Michael let go.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Okay.” He took a sip of the wine. “That’s really nice.” He put the glass down and then sighed, apparently unable to find another distraction.

  “Well, I was put into care when I was about two years old. My father disappeared when I was born, and my mother was fifteen, no money, and no idea how to look after herself, never mind a baby.” He took another drink, and hunched a little over his glass, eyes firmly on the table. “I don’t really remember them.” He picked at the table cloth for a moment. “I was in care the whole of my childhood. I had some really nice foster families, but no-one ever wanted to adopt me.” He smiled sadly and glanced up. “I never found a forever home.”

  Michael’s chest hurt at the sadness in Jack’s voice. “That must have been rough,” was all he could manage to say. “You mentioned a brother?”

  Jack nodded. “He wasn’t really my brother. We met when we were about seven and hit it off. We were best friends from then. Neither of us had anyone else, so we looked out for each other. We were separated on and off with foster families and the like, but then we both finished up in the same children’s home when we got too old for foster families to want us. He never got adopted either.” He took another drink. “When we got old enough, we started getting ready to leave the care home and they helped us to find somewhere to live, get to college and the like, and we were going to share, but…but, he got mixed up with a girl.”

  “He wasn’t gay?” Michael asked. He’d assumed they’d been in a relationship.

  Jack shook his head. “No. I loved him as a brother, nothing more, and he was definitely into girls. He… he looked out for me. He was the first person I came out to, and he was the only one that stood by me when the bullying got too much.”

  Michael watched, chest hurting, as Jack fought for composure.

  “So, what happened?”

  Jack swallowed and fiddled with his napkin for a moment. “We drifted apart for a while. I ended up in a flat on my own. It was nice, but after the care home it was really, really quiet, and…so lonely.” He looked up and shook his head as though surprised at the realisation. “I used to hate sharing, hate the people I shared with, and thought I couldn’t wait for my own space, but I tell you, when you get it, it’s weird. I had to leave the TV or the radio on for some noise or it was like drowning in silence.”

  “So, did you manage?” It was hard to imagine how difficult it must have been. So young and living alone.

  “Barely, but I learned to cook and stuff, went to college, found some friends, dabbled with drink and drugs but decided it wasn’t for me.” He glanced up at Michael. “I can’t cope with being out of control, and I hate being sick.” He flashed a grin. “But, with some help from the staff at the college, I got enough qualifications to get to university. I went to the Met and did a degree in graphic design.”

  “You’ve got a degree? I don’t recall that on your application,” Michael said, surprised.

  “I decided to leave it off. People think if you are over-qualified you only want the job as a stop-gap until something better turns up, and I was desperate to get a job fast.”

  “Fair enough.” Michael took another drink, digesting all that he’d said, and then re-filled their glasses. It was quite a revelation and explained a lot. They paused as the waiter brought them some bread and olives, then tucked in.

  Jack nibbled at an olive and carried on. “I graduated and managed to get an entry level job in a design company in the city, and when Nathan turned up out of the blue, I was happy to share with him. He had no money, the girl had run off with his mate, and he was skint, but it didn’t matter because I was earning enough to help him. For a couple of years, he came and went, and it was fine. He’d stay with me and it was brilliant. He wanted to be a singer.” Jack smiled fondly at the memory. “He was pretty good, but then so are loads of people. He got a few gigs in pubs, but nothing that paid anything decent. He tried for the X Factor a couple of times, and got through the first rounds, but didn’t get any further. He usually came back when he ran out of money.”

  “What went wrong?”

  Jack looked at the tablecloth for a moment, then looked up and shrugged. “Drugs.”

  Michael’s chest squeezed.

  Jack shook himself and carried on. “I met someone, and we were getting on fairly well. The job was going well. I didn’t have loads of money, but I was okay. I felt like I’d actually managed to make something of myself.” He took another sip of the wine. “Do you have any idea how many kids in care bomb out of education?”

  Michael shook his head.

  “Most of them. I was lucky.”

  “Or just hardworking?”

  Jack considered a moment and then shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “But?” Michael prompted.

  Jack chewed on a piece of bread, then had a longer drink of the wine. He seemed to be bracing himself.

  “Nathan turned up out of the blue, just like he often did, but he was…different.”

  “Different how?”

  “He was clearly on something. He was filthy and looked and smelled like he had been living rough. He was jumpy, par
anoid.” Jack shook his head and took another drink. “His eyes were awful. They’d just lost their… I don’t know, spark?”

  “He stayed in the flat and wouldn’t go out, and it caused so many problems with my boyfriend, Gavin. He turned up at my work one day wanting money and that was awful. He made such a scene. It just got worse and worse.” He stared into space for a moment and then carried on. “He came home stoned, stinking, and eventually got violent, he stole things and he always apologised, cried, begged, but it just went on and on. The first time Bryce came to the flat I was terrified. He trashed the place, beat Nathan to shit, smacked me around, and said that if I was his bitch, I could settle his debts.” He stared into the distance for a moment, as though remembering, then frowned. “My boyfriend told me I had to choose between Nathan and him.”

  He stared at the table in silence for a moment. “I couldn’t abandon Nathan.” He fiddled with his fork. “He couldn’t see that and walked out on me.”

  The words hung between them, and Michael wanted to climb over the table, take him into his arms, and hold him so tight. He sat and stroked a finger over the white tablecloth, eyes following the movement. “He hurt you?”

  “Who, Gavin?”

  Michael nodded.

  Jack thought for a moment, then sighed. “Gavin and I were… Well, at the time I thought we were good together, I thought he might be the one, but sometimes when I think about it now, I’m not so sure.” His smile was sad.

  “How so?”

  Jack shrugged. “Everything I did was wrong. He was nice, but he made me feel like I…wasn’t very good at things.” He huffed out a laugh. “I think I just wanted to love him, wanted someone to love me, but didn’t really know how to make it work, so I put up with it. If you see what I mean.”

  He was eyeing the last olive, so Michael gestured for him to take it. He popped it in his mouth.

  “I’m sorry he didn’t support you with Nathan.”

  “I was sad at the time, but, you know, when it comes down to it, I’ve just got to get on with things.”

  Michael nodded, but such stoicism from someone so young and alone made him hurt inside.

  The waiter cleared the plates and brought the antipasto. Jack’s eyes lit up as he dived into the charcuterie and they ate for a moment in silence before Jack carried on.

  “It got really shitty after that. I sold everything I had to get enough money together to get him into rehab, but he didn’t stick at it.” Jack sighed. “Then I was made redundant.” He paused. “That was awful. We limped by, but Nathan was getting into more and more debt because he couldn’t stop and when we lost the flat, we were pretty much homeless.” He took another drink. “I’m getting squiffy.”

  Michael laughed gently. “Lightweight.” He poured him some water from the pitcher that the waiter had left for them. He didn’t know what else to say. He wished he had a way with words like some people, but he didn’t. All he could do was listen.

  “I can’t remember when I last had drink. You’re going to have to carry me home.”

  “Not a problem. Just keep eating to soak it all up.”

  Jack took another helping from the plate in front of them. “A friend let us crash at his place for a few days while he was away, and I tried to find another job, but then Nathan took something that made him really ill and I tried to get him to hospital, I really did, but he refused.”

  He was rubbing the back of one hand with his thumb over and over.

  “We had to leave when my friend got back, and we ended up in a shelter for a bit. They tried to get him medical help but …” He frowned, looked down, and rubbed his hand harder. “He was found one morning by a jogger in the park. He’d overdosed. He died on his own. In the park.”

  Michael could feel his heart beating in his ears. He swallowed. “How long ago?”

  “Nearly six months. Then Bryce came to me for the money Nathan owed McCafferty. I tried to dodge him, avoid him, but he always found me and beat the crap out of me. When he put me in hospital and I thought I was going to die, I decided that the only thing I could do was face up to it and pay. So, I got the job at the bar, worked in a supermarket, and did a few other…odd bits for a while, but I had no work clothes, nowhere to live, no address. I interviewed for a few design jobs, but it never came to anything and he was turning up the pressure, so I applied for anything and everything. When you gave me a job it was, well, I couldn’t believe you employed me.” He smiled and shook his head. “So, I have been working the two jobs, some shifts at the supermarket because they always need people at Christmas, living off as little as possible, and handing all the money over to Bryce. I just want the debt cleared and then I can start again.”

  “And you still owe ten thousand?”

  Jack nodded and stroked the back of his hand again. “He keeps adding interest.”

  “Has he ever tried to… force himself on you before?”

  Jack went bright red and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No. I knew he was leading up to something though. He’d been making remarks for a while.”

  “Bastard,” Michael muttered, and got a brief smile in response.

  “Do you have anything in writing? Anything that shows the debt and the payments? How much you owe?”

  Jack wouldn’t meet his gaze again. “No. Nothing. I asked for a receipt for the money I gave him, but he just laughed. I’ve kept a log myself, though.”

  “How much have you given them?”

  “Two thousand. Barely made a dent.”

  Michael rubbed his hand around the back of his neck and sighed. “I wish you’d said something. I could have given you an advance or something.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “And how the hell do you imagine me starting that conversation? I’ve only been working for you a few weeks.”

  He was right. “I know, but all this time you’ve been struggling… and I …” He shook his head.

  Jack reached over and stroked the back of Michael’s hand briefly. “Don’t worry. It sounds worse that it is. I’ve always lived not really knowing where I belong, if I belong, or if anything’s going to last, so it’s fine. Really. I’m managing okay. It wasn’t too bad in the house in Denton, just a bit cold.”

  The waiter took away the plates, and Michael went to refill Jack’s glass, but he shook his head. “Not for me.”

  Michael put the bottle down. He felt nothing but admiration for the way he had handled not only the last few months, but most of his life. He was certain that he’d received a heavily edited version of what he had gone through, and even so it made for pretty grim listening. He really was the most remarkable man.

  The waiter brought their main course, and Michael ended up cutting off a lump of his steak and giving it to Jack to taste.

  He chewed experimentally, then grinned. “It’s good, but not as good as the pizza.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

  They ate in silence for a while, until Jack took a sip of his water and licked tomato from his thumb. “So, what about your life?”

  “Mine?” Michael stalled.

  “You. What made you want to go into cyber security?”

  Good question. Michael chewed his steak, then set his knife and fork down. He patted his mouth with his napkin as he swallowed.

  “My dad wanted me to be a mathematician, like him.” Michael smiled to himself at the remembered discussions about his future. “Not really my thing. Dad works at Manchester University in the Maths department. I know what mathematicians are like.”

  Jack laughed, seemingly relieved to talk about something other than himself.

  “Computer science was always the thing I loved at school, and I chose options at Uni that led me down the cyber security route and I loved it. I graduated and got a job that let me develop my skills. It was good.” When he thought about how hard university had been, even with a solid, loving home life, it made him pause and admire Jack yet again. “I’d met my business partner at university and we’d discusse
d setting up our own business for some time. When the option to buy out an old-style private investigation company came up, we grabbed it. My parents helped a bit financially. We did the old-style stuff, like we still do, to pay the bills, and focused on growth. It’s been five years now and we’re launching internationally, and our products and services win awards… well, you know the rest.”

  Jack was smiling, eyes shining. “It’s a great company. Is it right you’ve written all the stuff?” He scooped up a bit of stray cheese from his now empty plate with his finger and popped it in his mouth.

  Michael felt himself flush. “Mainly.”

  Jack smiled and looked at him, eyes soft in the candlelight. “So, no-one special in your life?”

  Michael shook his head. “Nope.”

  “That’s very definite.”

  “It is.”

  Jack was looking at him, clearly waiting for him to expand.

  He sighed. He never shared information about his personal life. Only Christian knew what had happened with Alex, but something about the way Jack had bared all about his life made him feel that he could share. With Jack, it felt safe to share.

  “There was someone, but it was a long time ago. I thought he loved me, but he… Well, he didn’t. He stole from me.”

  “What?” Jack’s eyes were wide. Shocked.

  “He made up to me to get at my ideas. I was young, we were just setting out, but I had some pretty good stuff going and he stole it. Almost broke us.” Michael couldn’t even begin to tell him how hard it had been, how bloody devastating. Heart breaking. How it had smashed his trust in people for such a long time afterwards. He’d never been much good with people, and the one time he let someone in…

  He kept his tone light and stared at the tablecloth. “It’s in the past, though. We’re okay now.”

  “I’m sorry. What a bastard.” Jack reached out and touched the back of his hand. Just a fleeting touch. “He’s an idiot for not holding onto you.”

  Michael looked up at him. Was it pathetic that those words made him warm? Probably.