“I didn’t say ‘boyfriends’!” Elliot spread his arms, only making Knight feel more trapped in his own bathroom. “But wouldn’t it make sense? We love spending time together. Why the hell wouldn’t we be boyfriends? We have a good thing going on.”
If Knight were any weaker, he would be losing his breath in panic by now. But he was a man in control of his life, and he wasn’t going to give up the reins to anyone. “No. This has gone too far. If you can’t understand the concept of friends with benefits then you better go back to your room. Take your stuff and your toothbrush, and we can talk once you’ve thought this through. Maybe.”
Elliot didn’t blink, watching Knight with glistening eyes. His skin was so pale he looked like he could slide to the floor at any second. “You can’t be serious.”
Unsure what to do with his hands, Knight grabbed his belt and forced himself to look steadily at Elliot. “I’m very serious. I never asked you to move in here. You just creeped in bit by bit, like a cat. This can’t go on.”
Elliot walked up to Knight slowly, as if afraid to startle a wounded lion. “Do you not want someone in your life who is willing to give you every single part of themselves?” he whispered and put his fingers on Knight’s hand. His touch was damp, soft, warm, and it sent electricity up Knight’s arm.
Knight could only pull away. “No. No, I don’t. I’m good, and I don’t need someone constantly watching what I do and bitching when I want to fuck someone else.”
The violence came so suddenly Knight wasn’t fast enough to react, and when he moved to shield himself, Elliot already pulled back toward the door. “You’re fucking Jake, aren’t you? He can’t possibly give better head than me! Does he go bare? I could go bare!” He was raising his voice with every word, and his pale face reddened with fury.
Knight was only slowly realizing Elliot had slapped him on the face. What the actual fuck was that? “What are you on about? I’m not gonna go bare with a guy who keeps pestering me to do so. And that’s completely beside the point anyway. I’m not letting anyone trap me. I’ve been super patient and super kind, and this is how you’re repaying me?” he asked, tapping his stinging cheek.
“Maybe patient and kind is not enough!” Elliot stormed out into the bedroom and gathered the few things he had. He was a ball of fury that seemed to be rolling forward and quickly becoming an avalanche of rage. “So I want more! Sue me. I can see what’s going on here. Trap you? My life revolves around you. You don’t want my dedication, and you don’t care about me. I’m not settling for this shit. I’m not gonna be your convenient fuck!” He stuffed his belongings—two books, deodorant, a pack of cards—into the bag and zipped it up, walking off barefoot down the two steps from the bedroom.
Knight sighed, watching Elliot in exasperation. “I thought we were on the same page about this. If you told me you wanted more I’d have said straight away that it wasn’t gonna happen, so stop acting like a little bitch.”
Elliot looked back at Knight with his nostrils flaring. “Maybe sometimes we don’t know what we want until we get it? What could you know about that Mr. Perfect-body-perfect-face? So fucking shallow, that’s what you are!” He spat each sentence as if he were throwing daggers at Knight from across the room. “Have you ever been in love? Why did you rope me in like this? Whatever. I don’t care. I’m going. You can keep the fucking toothbrush, ‘cause I don’t want to even go past you!”
Knight leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth as he watched Elliot thrash around like a rabid hedgehog. Only it was just hysteria born out of a dream Elliot at some point started believing. No matter how ill it was making Knight to break this kind of news, he didn’t owe Elliot anything. In fact, he’d already gone above and beyond the decent thing of offering Elliot shelter. He’d saved Elliot’s life two times, clothed him, fed him, and gave him some pretty amazing sex. And this was his reward. A hissy fit and scorn. How typical. Yet more proof that any attempts at relationships were not worth the hassle.
“What about your clothes?”
Elliot scowled. “What clothes? This? You want your stuff back?” He pulled his T-shirt off so rapidly Knight heard it tear.
Shit. This was rapidly getting out of control.
“No. Just pack your shit. Where have you put it all?”
Elliot’s shoulders sagged and he grabbed his bag off the floor. “I… I’ve got everything,” he mumbled and put his boots on his bare feet. He was just stalling with leaving then. Why hadn’t he unpacked if he’d stayed here for an entire week?
Knight briefly looked away from the dark gaze that burned with so much emotion he couldn’t stand its weight. His eyes caught a black notebook on the bedside table and he gestured toward it. “What about your notes?”
Elliot hesitated. “That? That’s your fucking Christmas present, so you can keep it. It’s not like I can take it back. Merry fucking Christmas.” He turned around and walked off to the door without even a T-shirt on.
Knight glanced between the notebook and Elliot, following him before he could even see what was written in the damn thing. “Don’t be like that. I don’t want you to leave. Just stay in your room. I’ll be away for Christmas, so we can both take time to think about this.”
Elliot didn’t look back at him, but showed him the finger while walking out. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go, since we both know my trailer is a freezer.”
Knight was done. “Fine. If you can’t be fucking respectful then go. I’m not your keeper.”
Elliot slammed the door behind him so hard a framed poster on the wall rattled. The silence left behind was so intense Knight could hear Elliot’s steps resonating down the corridor.
He looked around, helpless against a sense of guilt, even though he knew he’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t slapped Elliot back, because he knew if he had Elliot would have probably fallen over.
The room still smelled of Elliot’s shampoo, but there was no trace of him otherwise. Well, besides—
Knight exhaled the heavy air from his lungs and walked up the steps to pick up the black notebook from his nightstand. After the clusterfuck that had just happened, he was expecting some emo scrapbook of their ‘relationship’, but what he found instead left him stunned.
Elliot had dug up information on Raphael Mercier. That in itself wouldn’t have made much sense because Knight had shown Elliot details about the man himself, but what the notes were pointing out was that Elliot had found out that Knight’s ancestor had actually been of Italian origin and only when he came to France he’d changed his last name from Massimino. Which opened up a whole new branch of research for Knight’s family tree after he’d been stuck in his research into family history prior to the 1700s forever.
Page after page, Elliot stapled in scans of all the information he’d found on the topic, including printouts of screens from his favorite serial killer fan community.
Knight brushed his fingers over the pages of the most thoughtful gift he’d ever received from anyone. The paper had even somehow soaked up Elliot’s scent and was now whispering for Knight to catch Elliot. Try to make amends. Maybe talk things through like grown men. Maybe Elliot had reconsidered after having initially exploded with rage?
He buried his face between the cool sheets of paper that smelled of ink and Elliot’s sweat, and he shook his head. No. He shouldn’t be just budging at someone’s whim. If he remained firm, Elliot could have the much-needed time to think and get over his obvious infatuation with Knight. They could then go back to work in the cellar, even if just as friends.
It should be all right eventually.
It really should.
Chapter 17
Elliot was sobbing so violently he needed to stop walking in order to breathe. His entire body trembled with the sudden cold of the corridors and the shock that overcame him when Knight pushed him without warning into icy waters. How could his life have collapsed this way in a matter of minutes? One day Knight was texting Elliot that he wished they have seen
the Morris-Jumel Mansion together, and now he was kicking Elliot out like a sick dog that came with more responsibility than he’d bargained for.
The chilly corridor made Elliot’s skin break out in goose bumps, since he’d left his fucking T-shirt at Knight’s in a meaningless display of pride. Was he really not worth a glimmer of affection? Hadn’t Knight proved that he was by saving his life? Elliot couldn’t even blame the breakup on Jake’s cocksucking lips, as it was Knight who said he didn’t care for monogamy. Clearly in Knight’s mind the disastrous fight wasn’t even a breakup, because they hadn’t been a couple.
How pathetic was that? When Elliot was settling into his role of boyfriend, all along, Knight had considered him a charity case. A guy to feed and clothe. Never in his life had Elliot felt this humiliated.
Elliot put his jacket—the same one Knight had gotten for him because he didn’t want the guy he fucked to be cold in winter—over his freezing skin and leaned against the wall with his teeth clattering. In the darkness peeking into the clubhouse through the single-glazed windows one could believe it was the middle of the night, not the afternoon, and when the black silhouettes of trees moved with the wind, a chill went all the way down Elliot’s spine, as if he were alone in the woods and there was a pack of wolves after him.
He was now twenty-five, and since the day he was born he’d never managed to attract another person’s love. Not his father’s. Not his mother’s. Not Martin’s. And most definitely not Knight’s. He was always the one who put so much work into each new relationship, always the one with hope and the one to have his heart crushed and tossed away like a wasted piece of ink-stained paper. A pathetic man who no one wanted to keep.
The faint echo of a Christmas carol drummed down the corridor. He could see the twinkle of colorful light coming from one of the common rooms where the bikers and their friends gathered, but he knew his presence wasn’t desired. Everyone tolerated him only because the VP brought him here, and they would all turn their backs on him the moment they realized Knight didn’t care for him anymore. Jake would laugh in his face, and Beast would show Elliot the door.
His trailer wasn’t a place worth going back to in the middle of winter, especially since the one person Elliot still thought was worth living for was in this building.
It wasn’t Knight.
Under his feet, were the hidden rooms he’d uncovered with Knight. Something to be proud of, something to investigate, something that could make him matter to the world.
On shaky legs he pulled himself away from the wall and started walking toward the stairs at the end of the long, dusty corridor. The building was so vast, walking through it felt like stepping through the innards of a long-dead monster, full of dust and cobwebs, some of its parts rotting, others reused to become something else.
Every step down Elliot’s new path was a step farther away from Knight, and the pull to go back and grovel, promise that he’d be fine with being just fuckbuddies, was so strong Elliot had to start running to fight it. It would not be fine. His heart was already in tatters and bleeding all over the floor. He wouldn’t give any more to a man who didn’t want it.
But when he reached the corridor that could lead him to his forgotten, empty room, he didn’t even think twice before turning toward the gargoyle sculpture, toward the secret rooms where the one person for whom he could become everything dwelled.
He slowed down as he approached the old hall, and it almost felt like someone was calling out his name and reminding him of the promise he’d given Knight. But if Knight had no qualms about stepping over Elliot’s heart, then Elliot might as well spit in the face of all promises.
In the bluish light coming through the windows high up on the wall, the gruesome statue seemed to have grown, its carved muscles tense as if the stone could break at any moment, revealing monstrous flesh. The horns on the beast’s head pointed up the staircase, toward Knight’s apartment.
But Elliot would be going in the other direction. With tears still streaming down his face, he didn’t even care to wipe them anymore, finding some solace in the way they cooled on his skin in streaks. He pressed the wooden tulip, and the cellar opened up to him.
What William Fane had always wanted was a man of his own, and what Elliot craved was to become the apple of someone’s eye, no matter the cost. To for once belong to someone who truly wanted him.
He turned on his flashlight and walked into the cool abyss. Even now, after talking to the ghost several times, he was somewhat spooked, especially that he’d never come here on his own. But it was time to leave his fear behind and embrace the darkness of William’s soul.
He pulled out the key he’d made a copy of during Knight’s absence. He’d seen Knight hide it and used the opportunity to obtain one of his own but never broke the promise given to the man who Elliot had believed to be his lover. Well, fuck that promise, and fuck Knight and his undecided bullshit. Jake had been right. Knight would never commit to anyone. Not with that perfect face, the sense of humor that made everyone feel at ease, and the way he fucked like a demon. Knight could have anyone, so why would he choose Elliot, the poor, scrawny kid no one ever wanted to keep?
William on the other hand? Lonely and imprisoned in a single room, he might just form a true bond with Elliot. Just like him, William Fane had no one to care for him.
Elliot gently knocked on the door, swallowing a sob that stubbornly pushed at his throat. “Mr. Fane? May I come in?”
A deep sigh came from up close and made the wood vibrate under Elliot’s touch. He swallowed but reined in his fear and stayed put as the tormented soul answered.
“I sense distress. What did he do, Elliot?”
Elliot had planned to be more collected, to hide his pathetically broken heart from William, but when he spoke, it was no use. “He doesn’t want me. He never has,” Elliot choked out, hugging the wood. The floor was crumbling under his feet, and all he wanted was to curl up and turn into stone so that his chest would stop hurting.
William stayed silent for so long Elliot feared the pathetic truth had put him off, but the deep voice spoke in the end, “I am sorry you had to go through this. He is that kind of man. Too handsome. Incapable of loyalty or true compassion.”
Elliot put the key into the lock but hesitated, waiting for an invitation, for once struck that if he forced his presence on William, he might be rejected yet again. When Knight had taken him out of the trailer and into this castle of a building, for once Elliot had felt so very wanted. Like he wasn’t the man rejected by even his father.
“I got so wrapped up in him it feels like I’m bleeding.” The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they dripped down his chin, onto his bare chest. “As if there are cuts all over my body, and I am just waiting to die.”
“You won’t die of a broken heart. Believe me, I know,” William said, and the sound Elliot heard sounded suspiciously like a hand rubbing the other side of the door. “Come in, please.”
Elliot took a deep breath, wiped his face with his arm, and turned the key. If only William could see what Elliot had to offer, everything would work out.
He pushed open the creaking door and didn’t dare to look up right away. Stricken by nausea brought upon him by anxiety, he stared at black shoes with silver buckles right in front of him. William stood silently, not blinking when the bright glow of Elliot’s flashlight shone straight into his eyes. And yet he looked as if he were flesh and bone. He wore the same exquisite finery as the first time Elliot had seen him, and the front of the waistcoat still bore the red stains that would never be washed off.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you for so long,” Elliot whispered.
William swallowed, elegantly moving away from the wall. The heeled shoes gave his form a grace impossible to achieve in modern footwear. “That’s quite all right, my boy. I do know the perils of attachment to the wrong man. And I forgive you, even if I can’t say it didn’t hurt me when you wouldn’t even visit. I have been lonely for too long. Lo
cked away in this room no one ever enters.”
Elliot put his bag on the floor, still amazed that the man he’d idolized for so many years was right in front of him, even though two hundred years had passed since his brutal death. Maybe this was destiny after all, and Knight just one last painful step on Elliot’s way?
“Does it still hurt? Do you still love him?” Elliot pushed some hair off his face, watching William’s every move. He had to know that William wasn’t burdened with thoughts of anyone else before he could invest his feelings yet again.
The handsome face tensed, and William crossed his hands on his chest, obscuring the bloody stain. “Betrayal never stops hurting. But I have moved on. I will not keep my hopes up for a man who treated me so poorly. Neither should you,” he said, approaching Elliot in elegant strides. He looked just like a real person. He wasn’t translucent, and there was no glow to his appearance. And yet he was long dead.
“I never wanted all that much,” Elliot’s voice kept breaking down, and he had to rub his eyes time and time again. “If he could only focus on me, I could put up with a lot. I’m so sick and tired of being alone.”
William reached out for Elliot, but instead of resting on Elliot’s shoulder, his hand went straight into Elliot’s arm, photoshopped out by unknown laws of physics. The only trace of touch was a cool sensation in Elliot’s bones, but that was gone the moment William pulled his hand away, visibly distressed.
“You should not sell yourself so cheaply. If he cannot accept you the way you are, then he is not worthy of your affection.”
Elliot sighed in frustration when he was about to reach out for William’s hand, only to remember he couldn’t grasp it. They were forever sentenced to live without each other’s touch, even if it so clearly was fate that brought them together in this unlikely place.
My Dark Knight (gay biker romance) (Kings of Hell MC Book 2) Page 22