"Jack" Series, Part 2: Jack Adjusts

7. A Choice

I was hitting Rocky too hard. I knew it – my mind was screaming warnings – but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Too much pent-up frustration, resentment, bitterness – it was all spilling out in the force of my swing.

Rocky was whimpering, crying even, his stoic silence broken for the first time since I’d known him. On another occasion I might have felt triumphant but today I was barely aware of it. My mind was still focused on what Paul had told me, enraged with the feeling that I’d been played, deceived, deliberately left in the dark. I wasn’t sure who was responsible this time – was it Rocky, or was it Tiran? All I knew was that such a basic, critical piece of information shouldn’t have been withheld from me. And Tiran was still overseas, while Rocky was right here, bent over the desk in my office, ripe for venting on.

Paul had been so offhand about it, so casually surprised at my question, that I couldn’t bring myself to expose my ignorance to him any further. I had just nodded coolly, as though I wasn’t reeling with shock, and gone on signing the forms that authorized the lawyers to do their work. But that night I’d lain in bed, my mind spinning with unanswered questions. There was no one to demand answers from so I’d carried on, pretending my world wasn’t upside down, until Rocky showed up during my office hours the next day – and everything suddenly rushed out in a whirl of aggression.

"Since when –" I demanded finally, my breath short, the whip slashing across Rocky’s back again – "… have you owned all of Tiran’s – property?"

Rocky’s cry broke off in surprise. I saw him struggle to grasp the question and respond. "Uh – " he gasped, trying to speak coherently. "Since – since ten or twelve years ago, sir."

I paused mid-stroke. Ten or twelve years? "Did you put him up to it?"

"No, sir!"

I laughed disbelievingly. "So whose idea was it then? You’re saying Ti came up with it all by himself?"

He hesitated this time, his body trembling slightly as he awaited the next stroke. "I – I don’t …"

I was in no mood to tolerate resistance. The lash came down again to enforce my order, adding another bright red stripe across Rocky’s raw, flaming back. "You will answer me, Van Valkenburg!"

And suddenly, I found my arm stilled. I looked down, to see Rocky’s fist gripping the whip handle, holding it immobile. I stared at his hand in disbelief, then shifted my gaze to his face.

Rocky looked as shocked as I was, and his face filled with trepidation as I watched. He still lay across the desk; only his arm had moved. "I’m sorry – " he choked. "I don’t – I’m sorry … only – there’s nothing I won’t tell you willingly, sir. You don’t need to beat me to make me talk. I know you – for any reason – you can do anything you want to me but, sir … not to make me talk. I’ll gladly tell you anything you want to know. Please don’t take that away from me."

He stopped, but I stayed unmoving, still staring at him in astonishment. He opened his fist and released the handle abruptly, dropping his arm to his side. In a voice so low I could barely hear it he finished, "I’m sorry … please go on."

The whip freed, I lowered my hand slowly. By now I was growing aware of the hash of red stripes on Rocky’s back and saw that some were bleeding slightly. They could leave scars, I realized. I remembered Tiran’s original instructions and felt a sudden chill. No permanent damage.

Then I realized Rocky was talking to me. I caught the end of a broken sentence. " … financial advisors … strategic approach … to keep it safe."

I looked at him blankly before I realized he was trying to answer my earlier question. I had no idea what he’d just said. "I – shut up, Van."

I could see him struggling to contain himself, still braced for more punishment. "I’m sorry, sir."

Abruptly, I dropped the whip onto my desk and turned away. "Go get someone to look after those cuts," I said.

It took a few seconds for Rocky to process my order. I could hear him swallow a couple of times before he whispered, "Thank you, sir." There was a pause, and I sensed him straightening slowly, adjusting his clothes and then taking a step backwards, towards the office door. "May I … may I see you later, sir?" he asked tentatively, his voice low. "I owe you answers."

I glanced back at him, frowning. He did, though that wasn’t uppermost in my mind at the moment. "Tomorrow," I said finally. He’d need some time to recover. "On the upstairs terrace. Three o’clock."

"Thank you, sir." Rocky bent his head and turned stiffly to leave. With his shirt on, I couldn’t see the marks any more but I noticed small brown stains already forming on the back of his shirt where it touched the open wounds.

I stood for a moment looking after him, before realizing I wasn’t even sure which tool I’d been using. I glanced down at my desk and was relieved to see one of my smaller riding whips, with a long handle and a short lash … the damage might be less than I’d feared. I poured some disinfectant for the whip to soak in, and glanced at the time. Office hours weren’t over, but I’d had enough for today. I shut the door behind me and went back to the chalet to take a shower and get myself back in control.


**********


The next day, a little after three, I made my way upstairs and stepped out onto the terrace. Rocky was waiting, on his knees, forehead to the ground. As far as I could tell, he looked no worse for the wear. I paused for a moment, then walked quietly behind him and lifted the back of his shirt. There were a few bruises of course, but the criss-cross marks were calmer now and the skin looked soft and supple.

"Did you get some help with that?" I asked.

Rocky nodded slightly, without lifting his head. "Yes, sir, I asked Tom. He put some kind of cream on … said it would prevent scarring."

I wasn’t fully convinced of that, but it looked promising. Then I realized what he’d said. "Tom?"

"Yes sir …" Rocky said hesitantly. "I think he has some … experience."

I filed that away. "So you’re saying Paul knows about – this?"

Rocky seemed taken aback. "I … don’t know, sir. Tom came over alone."

Oh well. Paul knew what I did for a living. And if Tiran was going to find out that I’d been slightly off my game yesterday, there was a more likely informant right here in front of me.

"Stand up," I said. When Rocky obeyed, I had him walk a few steps forward and back, bend and stretch a little, then show me his chest and stomach to make sure there hadn’t been any wrapping. Everything seemed fine.

I sat in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for him to get down in front of me. He knelt and dropped his forehead to the floor again. Now that I was feeling easier about his physical condition, I was quite willing to leave him in that position. He had some major crawling to do over the next little while, to make up for that move he’d pulled on me yesterday.

Looking around, I realized Rocky had prepared for our meeting. He’d set out my usual beer with a glass, little dishes of snacks and a pitcher of ice water on the side table. There was even a small cooler on the floor with a couple more beers on ice. Evidently he expected a long discussion.

I took my time pouring the beer into the glass, letting him wait. After a couple of moments, he spoke up tentatively.

"Sir, may I – "

"No." I’d been expecting that, and had no desire to listen to the inevitable apology for his behaviour. "Save it for office hours."

"Yes, sir."

After a moment I decided I wanted to be able to see his face while he answered my questions. "Lift your head," I ordered. "Back straight."

"Yes, sir." He sat back on his knees obediently, resting his hands on his thighs and keeping his gaze lowered.

"So." I said finally. I figured I might as well start at the beginning. "You own everything here."

There was a tiny pause. Then Rocky said, "Technically, sir, yes."

"What does that mean, ‘technically’?"

Another fleeting hesitation. "Everything is in my name, sir."

"Everything, meaning … ?"

"Everything of Tiran’s. Property, assets, stocks, bonds, cash … well, they do leave a little bit of cash with Tiran."

I nodded reflectively. At first I’d wondered, briefly, if perhaps Tiran had made these arrangements without even consulting Rocky, but he certainly seemed well versed.

In the ensuing pause, Rocky spoke up again, uninvited. "Sir, may I just ask how you found out – ?"

I reached over calmly, took a fist full of his hair and yanked his head up sharply so that his eyes met mine. "Let’s get this straight. I’m asking questions. You’re answering them. I don’t want to hear another word that isn’t directly in response to something from me. Is that clear?"

Rocky nodded, looking stricken. "Yes, sir. I’m sor—" He bit off the last word, apparently not sure it met my criteria, and dropped his eyes, his hair still in my grip. I let go abruptly, and he resumed his position.

"And why is that you own everything?" I continued.

"So that …" he began quickly, then started to choose his words carefully. "… To protect Tiran’s fortune," he finished uncertainly.

I actually didn’t need more of an explanation, since I’d seen the process in action just a couple of days ago, so I went on. "And you were starting to tell me whose idea that was. Not yours, you say."

"Yes, sir. I believe – I understand one of Tiran’s strategic advisors proposed it, to ensure that his funds wouldn’t be vulnerable to any …. rash decisions Tiran might make in a – an unguarded moment."

"And Tiran liked that idea?" I asked.

Rocky hesitated. "N-noo, sir. I don’t think he especially liked the idea of signing away everything he owned."

I nodded. "But he saw the wisdom of it."

"Yes, sir."

"So how did you come to be the lucky winner?"

"I … but there’s no one else, sir. No one he trusts enough. Tiran doesn’t have family of his own – no one. Me and my brothers and the Armstrongs – we’re his family."

I looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then moved on. "And what does it mean in practice, you owning everything?"

Rocky’s eyes met mine. "Nothing sir," he said quietly. "It’s just on paper. It means nothing."

I thought of those conversations I’d stumbled on, discussions between Rocky and the financial managers. "You don’t make … business decisions or anything?"

"No sir." Rocky looked slightly appalled. "I know nothing about business – certainly not Tiran’s. He runs his own affairs."

"You must need to sign off on things sometimes, paperwork … some of it must be in your name."

He shook his head. "Almost never. The managers all know about the arrangement – they know it doesn’t mean anything. They’ve drawn up all kinds of delegation documents and authorities and whatever – I had to sign those at first but now Tiran can do pretty much whatever he wants without having to involve me."

His comment touched a sore point. "Oh, they all know, do they? Who else knows? Everyone in the complex?"

Rocky bit his lip. "Um, I think … I think most of us here do, yes, sir. But please … there are reasons why we try not to let too many people know … "

"Yeah, cause it’s a good way for Tiran to figure out who’s using him … without risking too much," I put in. I had figured that out a while ago.

"Yes, sir." Rocky gave me a fleeting smile. "It is useful that way."

"So I guess I just passed the test," I said. I was aiming for ironic, but it probably came across more as bitter. "Paul must have finally decided that I’m not trying to get anything out of Ti, besides my paltry salary."

For some reason, Rocky flushed at the last comment. He started to say something but stopped abruptly. As I watched, he took a breath and said earnestly, "I’m not sure why Tiran didn’t tell you this earlier, sir. It could possibly have been deliberate … but isn’t it also very likely he just didn’t think about it? You know he can be – quite thoughtless about that kind of thing."

I certainly didn’t need Rocky Van Valkenburg to assure me of Tiran’s feelings. "Shut up, Van," I said harshly, and he dropped his eyes again.

After a moment I went on, "So … is that all there is? Anything else I should know? Think carefully," I warned. "You know I don’t appreciate surprises."

Rocky seemed to waver for a moment. Finally he spoke, in a low voice, his eyes still on the ground. "You … you might want to know one other thing, sir. What Tiran did even before he … transferred the money. He gave me a – a veto over his decisions."

I looked at Rocky. "A what?"

He took another breath. "I mean … I can override any decision Tiran makes, or any order he gives, if necessary. It’s … it’s just a safety precaution. I don’t use it very often."

My eyes narrowed as I stared at him. "What do you mean, ‘any order’?"

"I mean any instructions he gives one of his … his staff – not you of course, sir!" he qualified quickly. "I mean – security people, household staff, buyers, financial managers … "

I was still annoyed. "You just said you don’t have anything to do with Tiran’s business."

"It’s not that, sir … I don’t make business decisions. It’s just that – you know, Tiran can occasionally make some … what we might call, bad judgements when he’s under a – a questionable influence. Not just about money, but any – any decision he makes. Things that could risk his health or safety, or damage someone he cares about or – or land him in jail. And he can be hard to reason with at times. So if someone has doubts about what Tiran’s doing, or what he tells them to do, they’re supposed to check with me and I can veto the order – or have Tiran stopped. Not permanently or anything – just long enough for him to come back to his senses, and then he can decide for himself. It’s just a little … a little safety mechanism. So he can, you know, indulge himself without risking anything serious. It makes him – more free."

My mind was a jumble of thoughts as I listened to Rocky’s story. On the one hand, it all seemed so unbelievable – and on the other, it made perfect sense. Of course I needed to verify everything Rocky was telling me today, but somehow I was already expecting it to check out.

The idea that Tiran would do this – voluntarily transfer so much power to Rocky – wasn’t as impossible to believe as I would have thought a few months ago. I could see for myself that Tiran valued his wealth – or rather, enjoyed the pleasures it brought him – but hated the burdens that went along with it. I had already seen how he freed himself from the work and responsibility of managing his finances by hiring experts who took care of it with little intervention from him.

But how could he protect himself from his own worst instincts? His immense wealth put him almost beyond restraint. Allowing someone else to constrain his actions required absolute trust, and I was starting to understand that Tiran didn’t feel too much of that. I almost saw why he would make Rocky – someone he could both trust and control – into his failsafe.

Even so … what a lot of power to cede to another person. Especially for someone as dominant as Tiran. I remembered what Rocky had just told me – that Tiran had not liked signing away everything he owned. I wasn’t surprised; it couldn’t be easy for someone like Tiran to give away so much authority and control, however much he benefited from it.

And something else occurred to me. It couldn’t be easy for Rocky either, I realized grudgingly. Tiran had freed himself, but left Rocky to carry the burden. Not just the responsibility – the decisions Rocky had to make on Tiran’s behalf – but the inevitable resentment that Tiran must feel for him.

I felt a slow glimmer of understanding. Perhaps this helped explain those random moments of sudden dominance I saw in Tiran. Maybe they were like little tests, Tiran’s way of reassuring himself of his power – over all his subs, but Rocky most of all. And Rocky’s constant willingness to submit was starting to make sense too. He backed down, gave in – not because he was dependent on Tiran, as I’d originally thought, but because he understood Tiran’s dependence on him.

I must have sat silently for several minutes, working through the implications of what I’d just heard as I stared out into the horizon. When I finally looked back at Rocky, he seemed to be waiting patiently for me to process his words.

"Tiran must not …" I began slowly, still thinking things through, " … like it, when you exercise your veto."

Rocky seemed a little surprised at this train of thought. "Oh … sometimes, sir. I try not to use it too often and he usually doesn’t mind once he calms down, but – you’re right, it does piss him off occasionally."

I looked away again and nodded slightly. "I suppose it could get on his … his list of your infractions for the week."

"Oh!" Rocky almost laughed, looking relieved. "Sure, Mr. Obernikoch. You’ve kicked my ass for it a couple of times, even if you didn’t realize it. But that’s not to say I don’t deserve it. And other times … I have to admit – I’ll call him on it if I think he’s being really unfair. But that’s not your problem, sir. It’s for me and Tiran to work out."

I wasn’t so sure about that. It seemed to me that Tiran and I might also have a few things to work out.

"So …" I began after a moment, following a new thought, "didn’t Zach Ramen count as bad judgment? Why didn’t you override that?"

Rocky’s face clouded over a little. "Yes, sir, Paul told me about that. I – I thought it was just a crush. I don’t usually try to stop those."

Big help, I thought. But then, I had figured it was harmless too, hadn’t I? "And when Tiran gets back and sends the heavies after Zach … are you going to veto that?"

Rocky gave me a sudden, conspiratorial grin. "No need to, sir – that’s already taken care of."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean – ? I hope you haven’t done anything stupid, Van."

"Oh, I didn’t do anything myself – I’m not allowed to; standing orders from Ti. But … let’s just say Zach’s re-thinking his little investment proposal. From a distance. He won’t be back in this town any time soon."

I had to laugh, despite myself. It was strange to remember how angry I’d been just the day before. Now my adrenaline had ebbed away and I was sitting out here in the warm blue sunshine with Rocky at my feet, sharing a moment of almost comradely amusement. I actually felt something close to kinship with Rocky, as though, for a fleeting moment, our mutual desire to protect Tiran was uniting us. Which was especially odd when I remembered that I’d arrived here with the intention of protecting Tiran from Rocky.

Thinking back to those early days reminded me of something else, though, and suddenly I wasn’t feeling quite as comfortable anymore. "Rocky," I said abruptly, sitting up a little.

He looked up, and I could see his surprise at the change in my tone. "Yes, sir," he said attentively.

I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say, but I knew my self-respect required something. "I … I wasn’t entirely in control yesterday," I began slowly.

Rocky’s expression seemed to soften. "That’s okay, sir," he said gently.

"No," I said. "It’s not. I wasn’t punishing you; I was taking out my anger and frustration. A professional should never allow that to happen."

Rocky looked down unhappily. "It’s …" he faltered, but I cut him off.

"Fortunately you seem to be okay today, but things might have turned out differently. I could have done significant damage. And the fact is – " I took a deep breath. "What I did wasn’t consistent with Tiran’s instructions. He told me at the outset that he didn’t want any permanent damage to any of you. If those scars don’t heal – then I’ve broken his rules."

Rocky shook his head. "Please, sir … I’m fine."

"Nonetheless, Van. If Tiran found out what I did yesterday, there’s a good chance he’d fire me."

I’m not sure why I told Rocky that. Maybe it was a way of testing him; I was basically telling him how to get rid of me. But somehow, even at the time, I knew he wouldn’t take advantage of it.

Rocky looked at me steadily. "I see no reason why he needs to know anything about this," he said quietly.

For some reason I felt vaguely irritated. "I’m not asking you to – "

"I understand, sir," he interrupted, his voice oddly firm. "I’m only saying the subject isn’t likely to come up."

There was a pause. I felt a need to make myself especially clear. "If I stay … Nothing changes, you understand. Tiran hired me to provide discipline and as long as I’m here, that’s what I’ll do. I made a mistake yesterday that won’t happen again. Don’t expect me to go any easier on you because of this."

Rocky smiled faintly. "I appreciate that, sir."

And it’s true – if I was a little less harsh with Rocky after that, it wasn’t because I feared he would complain to Tiran.

As far as I could tell, Tiran never heard about what happened the day I lost control. And everything Rocky told me checked out – I confirmed it with a few different people. When I confronted Tiran, he apologized for not telling me about the financial arrangements himself; he swore he’d just never thought about it. He also agreed to be more clear when he was asking me to punish Rocky for overriding a decision – not that I had any objection to it; I just liked to know what I was doing and why.

But that was all later. In the meantime, after I had finished with Rocky and dismissed him, I spent some time, sitting there on the upstairs terrace, thinking about my life in Tiran’s world and how I felt about it.

Tiran had originally offered me the job indefinitely, but I hadn’t expected to stay long when I first arrived. I was sure I’d wear out my welcome within a few weeks. The boys would complain, Tiran would decide it wasn’t worth the hassle, and I’d go back home with the minor satisfaction of having kicked a few freeloading butts while I had the chance.

Now, almost nine months later, I was finally beginning to believe that no one would take the job away from me. I’d just given Rocky the power to have me fired but somehow I knew he wouldn’t use it. Maybe it was time for me consider what I actually wanted.

It’s not that I trusted the boys completely; there was still too much I didn’t fully understand. And I continued to find Rocky insufferable at times – his brash intimacy and assurance with Tiran, the way he blithely accepted whatever we dished out as though it barely touched him. I still felt the occasional urge to break him … only now it was tempered a little, mixed with fleeting twinges of what might be sympathy, or sometimes even an odd kind of wonder.

I did feel a clearer sense of my role here, though. When I first accepted the position, I thought the boys were a bunch of sycophants eagerly exploiting Tiran, and my job was to protect him from them. Looking back, that idea seemed almost laughable. I should have known Tiran was always the one in control.

Now I could see the choices Tiran made. To protect himself, he gave some of his power away to Rocky – and then made Rocky pay for it. It occurred to me that the boys also shielded Tiran. He’d grown up with them, and they knew him in a way outsiders – like me – never would. His subs grounded him, and he trusted them. For someone almost beyond restraint, like Tiran, that might be what he needed to stay sane, maybe even alive.

But dependence wasn’t easy for Tiran. He didn’t like forfeiting control to Rocky or the boys; the more he gave up, the more he needed back. That, I thought now, was my job. Hiring me helped Tiran bring the power back. And if he wanted my help, I was happy to provide it.

In the end, something shifted for me on that day. It was the day I made my own choice. I still had a few questions, a bit of lingering suspicion. But I didn’t really mind any more, because now, finally, I knew I was in for the long haul. I’d figure it out as I went along. I was staying right here.

END OF PART 2

*** A/N: This is the end of Part 2 of the Jack series. Please look for Part 3 ("Jack Accepts") which I've now started posting.

Thanks again to A_A for the reviews … as you can see, you totally called Jack's response to the end of the last chapter. :-) ***