My Dark Knight (gay biker romance) (Kings of Hell MC Book 2)

by K. A. Merikan

  A curse pushed at Knight’s lips as he grabbed the keys from the cupboard nearby and rushed back to the vehicle. He’d got that baby for Jordan’s birthday but ended up never giving it to her, since they split. At least it would serve a purpose this one time.

  Knight wasn’t a sports car enthusiast and needed to get a grip on the manual transmission as he started the engine, but by the time he reached the line of trees surrounding the clubhouse, he felt confident enough behind the wheel. With the sun still licking the horizon, the girly color of the car should fool Elliot and make him ignore his tail.

  Knight sighed in relief when he spotted the lights of Elliot’s trash can of a car, but he made sure to keep his distance to not be recognized. Being alone in the car, though, only made Knight imagine all sorts of scenarios. What could possibly be more important to Elliot than being invited to an orgy? And for fucking free at that. Even if Elliot were to just watch, it would surely still be good entertainment for him. People begged to be vetted for these events for months, and he’d just thrown it all away. And for what? To drink himself blind on a beach or something? To celebrate Fane’s birthday?

  He kept a low profile but was surprised when Elliot drove past Brecon and the trailer park, heading toward the national park where very few people lived. Somewhat weirded out, he saw Elliot abruptly stop in the middle of a straight road, only to drive into a narrow path between the trees. Knight switched off his headlights entirely and followed, trying to memorize the exact way Elliot’s rear lights moved ahead of him. Fortunately, the dirt road was mostly devoid of curves.

  When he noticed the lights go off, he parked his car as well and opened the door to listen. The tall trees loomed over him, quiet like giants waiting for their victim to make a mistake. He swallowed when an owl cried nearby, breaking the absolute silence of the cold woods. He regretted not taking his jacket as soon as he left the Corvette, but he hadn’t been thinking straight when he left the clubhouse. As tension rose in his body, he heard voices but couldn’t make out any words.

  Elliot was clearly where he’d intended to come, so Knight left the car and approached his target on foot, set on making himself unheard. At least there was no snow for him to sink into.

  As he came closer and the bright glow coming through the windows provided him with some light he saw Elliot’s car parked along a rusty pickup truck in front of a tiny house made of pale brick. It was surrounded by heaps of junk and used tires dotted between thatches of grass and piled-up leaves. He took a deep breath and approached, somewhat weirded out. What the hell could Elliot be looking for in a place like this?

  He made sure to tread carefully, in case there were any traps laid out for intruders, but the scrap metal and other junk were unnerving in their own right. Scattered all over like old bones spat out by whoever lived in the cabin, they could alert the owner of the house quite effectively if stepped on.

  Eventually, he reached the front of the house where two windows on either side of the door shed enough light to reassure Knight that he wouldn’t miss anything. Careful to remain hidden, he stood on a block of concrete to peek into the single room inside.

  Knight’s blood boiled and evaporated through his ears on the spot.

  Elliot stood next to his ex. The same ex who had tried to strangle Elliot just weeks ago. Now Elliot was handing him the stolen beer.

  Martin was tall and thick in the shoulders, likely twice as heavy as Elliot’s angular frame. And yet there Elliot was, walking straight into the bear cave in the spring yet again.

  The uncertain smile on Elliot’s face was the most unsettling thing Knight had seen all day, but at least he could listen on to their conversation through the thin windows.

  “It must have been hard for you after a year in jail. I should have been more understanding,” Elliot said, opening a beer for himself. “Do you need some help with this place?” He looked around the rundown room full of empty microwavable dinner boxes and plastic bottles.

  Knight’s fists balled up. So there it was. Elliot wanted to move in with that prick. Over Knight’s dead body. He would not have someone who was under his protection disappearing in a shallow grave somewhere in the woods. Besides, Elliot told him he wanted to do some work together on the history of the clubhouse, and that was how he was going about it? Running away like a rat from a sinking ship just because Fane’s ghost appeared in the basement?

  Knight reached for his gun and stiffened when he didn’t find it where it usually was. Crap. He’d left it in the clubhouse. Because who came armed to a sex party? What a useless fucking situation.

  The cold ceased bothering him when a yelp came from inside the house, and once he looked up, he saw beer drizzling down Elliot’s face and Martin twisting his ugly profile into a scowl.

  “What the hell is this? Are you really bringing me this kind of warm piss? I’ve been in the slammer for over a year, and I got rid of your old man for you. That’s how you’re thanking me?”

  Knight gasped, shocked by this admission, and his mind flared up with the memory of Elliot talking about his late father so begrudgingly. He watched Martin spill the remaining beer from the can down Elliot’s head and the pale face tensing in anguish.

  Elliot whined and stepped away, shaking the liquid off. “I just grabbed the first thing there. I wasn’t thinking. I can make it up to you though.” He pulled off his soaked turtleneck, and despite the rage flooding Knight’s body, he didn’t fail to notice that Elliot was no longer skinny in a sickly way. “We had a good thing going, right? No one knowing, no distractions.”

  Martin snorted, glaring at Elliot even as he tossed away the empty can. “You found someone to console you pretty fast. He broke my fucking nose.”

  Elliot stepped closer and touched the thug’s face as if it were porcelain. “I’m sorry. Things got out of hand, and I had to live my life somehow. If you hadn’t stolen that car, we wouldn’t have had to part in the first place.”

  There was an unpleasant tingle in Knight’s body. Second by second he could see Martin’s muscles tense, his small eyes coldly focused as Elliot scrambled for forgiveness of a man who’d tried to kill him once already. The worst of Knight’s suspicions were about to come true if he didn’t act, but he was unarmed. With an emptiness in his head, he searched the ground within the weak glow coming out the window and finally spotted a narrow pipe resting on a pile of rubble.

  As quietly as he could, Knight approached it and picked it up. It was painfully cold and so rough it was likely very rusty, but that didn’t matter when Martin raised his voice enough to be easily heard through the walls. So far away from other people he didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing the violence that was coming Elliot’s way. But Knight was here. Knight wouldn’t allow Martin to be a danger to Elliot ever again.

  “If you’re so sorry, how about you lick that disgusting piss off the floor? It’s your fault I got so angry.”

  Elliot backed away and for a split second disappeared from Knight’s view, only to come back, pulling his wet sweater back on. “Why do you have to be such a dick about this? I came over so that we could make up.”

  Martin showed his teeth, barking at Elliot like a ferocious bull terrier. “This is my house, and you’ll do as I tell you. On your knees.”

  How could have Elliot not seen this coming from that meathead? How could anyone be so blind? Then again, Elliot did have an unhealthy love for Fane, and that should have explained it all.

  “No. And you fucking changed. This is bullshi—”

  Martin didn’t have to invest half of the power in his massively thick arms to punch Elliot’s face hard enough to make him spiral to the floor. The slim body dropped like a cut tree, with a bang that had Knight’s own bones aching in sympathy.

  “I said get on your knees, and I might consider letting you see the sun tomorrow,” Martin growled, and Knight couldn’t wait any longer.

  Squeezing his hand on the pipe, he burst in through the door and charged at Martin, aiming a
t his head. The guy’s eyes went wide, but he ducked and Knight swung the pipe in the air, hitting a shelf full of tools that fell to the floor in a jangle of metal. Nails spilled out of their boxes, and a heavy screwdriver managed to roll against Martin’s foot.

  “Get out of my house, motherfucker!” Martin’s face was flaming red, and he reminded Knight of a rabid hog. He dipped his hand into a drawer, and Knight had to act fast, because there surely was a gun in there.

  He used the pipe to force Martin against the rickety wooden chest, but when steel flashed in Martin’s thick hand, Knight let go of his weapon and grabbed the man’s wrist, barely catching it in time before the firearm could be aimed at him. While not a weak man himself, Knight was somewhat shorter and less of a human tank than Martin, so he found himself struggling against his opponent’s pure physical strength. His muscles screamed as he tensed them against the pressure, but Knight wrestled Beast often enough to know his chances against Martin’s physical power.

  “Get the fuck out,” he called out to Elliot, not wanting him anywhere near gunfire.

  Elliot was a weasel caught in the headlights and only started scrambling to his feet at Knight’s words. He looked like he wanted to say something but then rushed for the door, almost falling over when he slipped on the beer.

  “I’m gonna fuck you up, Prince Charming!” Martin shoved Knight hard, but at least the gun fell to the floor. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

  Knight clenched his teeth and headbutted Martin with his all. Despite the experience he had with that move, their height difference did not play in his favor and left him with a violent thudding in his skull. “I’m a King of Hell. This is my town, you piece of trash!” he growled, but when Martin pushed at him again he made a dash for the forlorn gun. It shone in the light, tempting him with the promise of ending this farce.

  He threw forward his entire body weight, but the moment his foot touched the wooden floor, it sank in with a loud crack, throwing Knight off balance and sending him stumbling face-first to the dusty planks. His stomach clenched even before his chin met the rough wood, but the reflex didn’t stop blood exploding to his tongue.

  The gun rattled, pushed farther away, but Knight found it hard to focus with his head ringing from the dull blow. Everything slowed down, muted and sluggish, only for time to pick up as Martin pounced on top of Knight like a grizzly bear about to pull apart its victim. His thumbs went straight for Knight’s jugular.

  “That’s what you think, pretty boy? That you can barge into my house and tell me what I can and cannot do?” Martin yelled with fury as he pressed his fingers tight against Knight’s neck, pushing down with his entire body weight. “I know who you are! I tracked you down all the way to your little trailer trash family. Your mom’s a really fine piece of ass. She could charge more with lips like that.”

  Lightheadedness was almost instantaneous, and Knight grabbed at Martin’s fingers, struggling to pull them away. Rage boiled inside him and fueled his strength so that it wouldn’t run out yet. He choked, trying to shout back, but he couldn’t make any noise apart from a weak growl.

  But then Martin screamed out and let go.

  “Get off him, you asshole!” Elliot hopped on Martin’s back and wrapped his arm around Martin’s neck.

  Fighting for breath, Knight watched the next few seconds unfold in slow motion. When Martin’s body twisted, a plastic handle emerged from his side, and Knight realized Elliot must have stabbed their opponent with one of the scattered screwdrivers. Roaring with fury, Martin no longer acted like a man but rather like a wounded animal, and he backed away, squashing Elliot’s body between his thick bulk and the wall. Elliot screamed out and let go, dropping to the dirty floor, but Knight was already there, his hand squeezed on a wooden handle he grabbed on the way. He swung the hammer at Martin’s bald skull.

  Bone dented slightly under tanned skin, and Martin’s eyes glossed over. But as he fell on a nearby table and grabbed onto it in a mindless attempt to save himself, Knight was by him within a split second and brought the hammer down again and again, until blood and bits of brain were sprayed over the surface and Martin finally slid off—first to his knees, then collapsing to his side.

  Motionless.

  Dead.

  Knight heaved as he watched the body without remorse. He hadn’t entered with the intention of ending that fucker’s life, but there were fucking limits, and this cunt broke them the moment he’d mentioned Knight’s mother.

  A sob made Knight’s attention shift to the wall where Elliot was curled up into a ball, his hair wet, and one eye closed while the other watched the carnage left behind by the fight.

  Still breathless, Knight was slowly coming back to his senses, and only now realized that he was still holding the bloodied hammer in his right hand. He forced his fingers to uncurl, and the tool landed on the floor with a loud bang. Tangy blood was all over and inside his aching lips, and only now that they were safe he could sense pain radiating all over his body. But as he moved his limbs, it didn’t seem anything was broken during the confrontation.

  “Elliot?” he slurred through his beaten lips and approached the sorry figure.

  Elliot took a few deep breaths, looking around the room until his eyes settled on the corpse. He pulled himself up by the windowsill and his features went slack. “Are you okay?” he finally choked out, taking a step toward Knight. One of his eyes was pink from a broken blood vessel, and that made Knight so angry he wished he could revive Martin and kill him all over again.

  Knight licked blood off his lip and found it still so numb from the punches it felt just like when he left his dentist’s office. “I think so. You?” he asked, stretching his body to make sure everything was indeed fine.

  Elliot wrapped his arms around Knight’s waist and leaned in for a kiss to Knight’s stunned surprise. He gently touched his mouth to Knight’s bottom lip, but then his tongue slipped under the upper one, licking over Knight’s gums.

  It was so unexpected Knight wanted to push Elliot away, but heat had him staying in place, and the soft glide of Elliot’s tongue against his flesh had lust flaring up in Knight’s balls and spiraling up his shaft. He gasped and leaned in, urged on by the instinct to immerse himself deeper in the flood of sensation in his body. Elliot’s scent was much stronger than the odor of blood and beer, and it was so tempting, so utterly delicious Knight grabbed Elliot’s head and deepened the kiss, invading Elliot’s mouth with his tongue.

  Elliot was so perfectly pliant in the way he spread his lips wide open the same way he opened up for Knight’s cock so eagerly. His tongue had a metallic taste, but that might as well have been Knight’s own blood. Despite Martin lying dead right next to them, Elliot squeezed Knight tighter, pulling him to a table, more frantic in his touch by the second.

  Knight couldn’t get enough of it. Not enough of the soft lips and not enough of the heated desperation behind Elliot’s every touch. The kiss wasn’t a way to let off the steam of adrenaline anymore but something else altogether that Knight couldn’t pinpoint. It was as if Elliot was trying to crawl under Knight’s skin and live there. Every suck on Knight’s tongue, every lick on the inside of his cheek was both pleading and a promise. Of what? Knight wasn’t sure. “You stalk me,” Elliot whispered between one kiss and another.

  Knight’s head was still rushing with the heat of adrenaline, and he gasped, nipping at the tempting lips. He could barely think in face of intense lust. He saved Elliot’s life, and it felt so good to be acknowledged for it he wished to just roll into the sheets with the boy, showering in all the gratefulness he could feel glowing off Elliot’s skin. “You’re a danger to yourself.”

  Elliot’s chest was going up and down fast, and his breath was so warm Knight couldn’t wait to kiss him again already, even if kissing guys had never been on the menu. It felt good now. It felt fantastic to ravage Elliot’s lusty, cocksucking mouth, and that was all that mattered.

  “That’s why I need you,” Ell
iot said, sliding his hand down the front of Knight’s jeans.

  Knight groaned and pulled Elliot’s lanky form closer, but then his gaze wandered beyond the tabletop, to the pool of blood spreading around the lifeless body on the floor, and his growing cock immediately softened. What the hell was he thinking?

  “No. We’re not leaving behind any more DNA...”

  Elliot sighed deeply but didn’t contradict Knight. He pulled his hand away from Knight’s groin but stayed in place, hugging him tightly instead. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this. Fuck. What do we do?”

  Somehow, there was no other option left for Knight but to hug Elliot back. He kissed the top of his head, even though it was still damp and smelled of the beer Martin had spilled over it. “You’re so fucking stupid. Why would you do that? Why would you come here? He’d have killed you.”

  Elliot put his cheek on Knight’s shoulder and the way he handed himself over into Knight’s care made annoyance disperse faster than Knight logically knew it should. “I am so dumb. I thought he’d cooled off. That he could like me again. I was having a bad day and remembered all the things we used to do together. I forgot all the shit he put me through.”

  Knight gently pulled him back so that they could look at one another. His swollen throat was pulsing with pain, but he didn’t care. Poor Elliot likely felt so much worse with not much muscle or fat to diffuse any blows that came his way. And that pink eye... “He’s not good for you. You don’t have to beg for such... scraps,” he said, increasingly agitated.

  “I’ve only got so much to offer, and then I get blinded by what my dick wants.”

  Knight exhaled and looked at the mess they’d made. Blood was heavily staining the rough wood, there was a hole in the floor where a plank had broken under Knight’s weight, and the tools and nails scattered all around the body only added to the miserable sight. “I can’t always stop you from getting in trouble.”