Road of No Return (gay outlaw biker MC romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  Cox’s chest, visible through the half-open shirt changed color to bright red, while the rest of him became ghastly pale within a split second. With his eyes wide, he opened his mouth and pulled out his own gun. Zak’s scream echoed in Stitch’s head along with the single shot, but Cox already dropped his firearm to the floor and fell to his knees, only to drop face-first like a fallen tree. He was dead.

  So much adrenaline rushed through Stitch’s body that only now he put his palm against his arm, realizing the bullet had grazed its side. Blood dribbled down his skin, but he looked up at Zak, unsure what to do or say now. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

  Zak was frozen by the door, his face a mask of shock. He was trembling slightly as he moved his eyes between Cox and Stitch. The room resonated his deep, hissing breaths. “You killed him.”

  Stitch looked to the body, and the dark stains on the floor. He’d never actually killed anyone before, but Cox had pushed him over the edge, threatened him. This was him or Cox. “He beat you up,” Stitch uttered quieter than he intended to. His stomach was taking a tumble, but his mind was blank, still processing what had happened.

  Zak shook his head. He pushed himself away from the wall as if he were glued to it and stumbled forward with stiff, careful movements. “Oh, God, Stitch... What did you do?”

  “You heard him!” The icicles in his body were warming up and trickling fear and panic into Stitch’s bloodstream. His hands shook, but he quickly put the safety on the gun. His breathing sped up. “What are you doing here, anyway?” he didn’t want to raise his voice, but it was all too much. He had a cop’s body cooling on the floor, a dead man’s blood on his face.

  Zak stopped halfway through the room and wordlessly nodded at Cox. If there was something Stitch didn’t want Zak to see, that was it.

  “What happened?” Stitch spread his arms, but then put his hands on his nape.

  To make things worse, heavy steps resonated through the back corridor.

  “Stitch! How many times am I supposed to call you? Get your ass ready for the par—” Captain yelled, but cut the sentence the moment he walked into the room. “What the fuck?”

  Zak crossed his arms on his chest and looked to the cooling body, chewing on his lip like he wanted to bite through it. Captain quickly locked the door behind him, staring at the corpse as well.

  “Is that Cox?”

  “Yes, it’s fucking Cox!” Stitch yelled at him, but when he noticed red stains on Captain’s knuckles, a red light flashed in his brain. “Who’s blood is that, huh?” He walked up to Captain, looking between his hands and Zak’s messed-up face. He couldn’t care less about the blood dripping from his arm. If they didn’t get rid of Cox properly, he really would go to prison as a fucking cop-killer. This would be the end of his life. He wouldn’t see Holly again. Zak would move on and forget him. No one in the criminal justice system would ever believe it was all an accident. He didn’t want to pull the trigger. It just... happened.

  Captain sneered and stomped toward Zak, as if he were trying to frighten a dog. “Seems it wasn’t fucking enough for that fag.”

  Zak flinched, looking back. He actually moved closer to the body, hovering his hand over Cox’s forlorn gun.

  “I fucking quit him on your push, and told you not to touch him!” Stitch went straight for Captain, ready to pull him apart like he was slow-cooked beef. Enough was enough. “Told you to leave him alone! It’s not his fault I’m like this!”

  “Whatever. I don’t want his dirty ass in my town. Neither do the others,” growled Captain, pushing Stitch away. His dark hair was wild and unruly like some demonic villain’s from a movie.

  “Never touch him again!” Stitch screamed at him and punched Captain in the gut, even though he knew that would provoke an onslaught. He couldn’t care less as they started hitting and kicking each other in an equal fight. The thought that Captain had beaten up Zak was the final straw.

  Captain growled, twisting his body just enough to punch Stitch square in the jaw. Pain radiated through all of Stitch’s head like a ray of heat. He could hear Zak’s voice in the background, but he was completely taken by the need to twist Captain’s balls off.

  Anything could be used in the fight, knees, elbows, teeth. Stitch bit Cap’s ear, almost tearing it off, but Captain elbowed his stomach and threw him to the coffee table. The rattle of broken glass accompanied his fall as he knocked over the old piece of furniture. Stitch kicked Captain’s knee so hard, Cap screamed and threw himself on top of him. They rolled around in the broken glass like two pit bulls that had been trained for this fight all their lives.

  “There’s a fucking body out here!” It was a sobering hiss from Zak, but Captain only looked his way before headbutting Stitch so hard Stitch's brain felt like dripping out through his nose.

  “Take care of it, pussyboy,” he growled, spitting red to the side.

  “Don’t you dare call him that!” Stitch mumbled, still dizzy. He put his hand on Captain’s face and dug his fingers into the skin, but as he noticed Zak’s face above him, Captain got the upper hand again and pushed his thumbs under Stitch’s ribs, making him groan.

  “I don’t care. Stitch, you killed a man, we need to do something about this!” Zak was close to wheezing. “Let’s go before someone starts looking for him. The fucking police car is outside!”

  That seemed to have sobered Captain because he pulled away, frowning at Zak. “Fucking hell.”

  Stitch rolled out from under Captain, pushing Cap to the glass. He was so done with this shit. The fact that he killed a man still hadn’t seeped in, but looking back to Cox, lying there, facedown, made it feel real. “Right. Car,” he mumbled and spat out blood.

  Chapter 23

  Zak settled in the passenger’s seat, constantly eyeing Captain’s shadowy face in the rearview mirror. They were waiting for Stitch, who was still fumbling with Cox’s remains, which they had wrapped in several plastic bags to avoid any stains in Zak’s trunk. Zak crossed his hands over his chest. They felt dry and tender after all the bleaching and scrubbing he had to do back in the clubhouse. He preferred that to getting rid of a car or cutting apart a warm body with a saw from Stitch’s workshop. Zak couldn’t bring himself to think of Stitch methodically cutting off arms, legs, the head, without feeling nauseated. Those hands, which he knew to be so gentle, weren’t made for such an act.

  The process of removing the puddle of blood from the club lounge had been painful, and he had to constantly tell himself it was not blood that he was soaking up with kitchen towels and washing off with a rough sponge, or he wouldn’t have been able to go through with it. It took lots of disinfectants, but he managed to make the whole floor cleaner than it had probably been since being laid.

  Stitch avoided Zak’s gaze when he got back and sat in the driver’s seat. He started the engine as calmly as an old lady. Zak couldn’t help but glance at Stitch’s hands, expecting to see red under his fingernails, but fortunately they were scrubbed clean.

  Zak swallowed hard, turning his head to face him. Stitch was pale, with dark circles around his eyes, shoulders set as if fastened to a wooden frame. “Did you clean it all?”

  Stitch nodded and drove toward the quickest route out of town, but Captain wouldn’t keep his ugly mug shut.

  “Of course he did. He’s a fag, not an idiot.”

  Zak inhaled a gulp of air and leaned forward not to be too close to the bastard behind him. “Just shut up already.”

  “None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for the homophobia in the club,” Stitch snarled at Captain, keeping his eyes on the road. “If being out wasn’t such a sin against humanity, I wouldn’t have been so freaked out about Cox telling everyone.”

  Captain snorted in the back seat. “If we knew you’re such a pussy, we wouldn’t have patched you.”

  “You think this was always so obvious to me? You know shit.”

  “And you’re not a pussy,” added Zak, much to Captain’s apparent amusement.

&
nbsp; “Come on Stitch, now you have a personal protection poodle? What did you do to make him defend you so viciously? Suck his balls?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Captain.” Stitch frowned and turned into a smaller pathway leading to the forest and swamp. “I did whatever the fuck it is people do in relationships. I am sick of hearing this shit. You don’t wanna know so stop asking!”

  Zak had only just rested his back against the seat when Captain lunged forward, and his heavy, leather-clad arm rested against Zak’s chest, keeping him in place like an over-the-shoulder restraint. Even without Captain, this ride had been far from enjoyable, and Zak was constantly reminding himself to keep his dinner down. He almost forgot to breathe, unconsciously imagining that arm pulling up to choke him.

  “So it’s a ‘relationship’ now, huh?” growled Captain. “You fucking bringing him flowers every Sunday?”

  Stitch looked toward them, but didn’t let Captain provoke him. “Yes, it’s a fucking relationship, Jesus Christ! And no, I don’t bring him flowers. I walk his dog, paint the house, and we fuck like there’s no tomorrow. That enough for you, or do you wanna know exactly what we do? What the fuck do you want?”

  Captain did exactly what Zak had feared. Within a split second, the muscular arm went up to press at his throat, but before he could as much as attempt to free himself, Captain pulled away as if it had been just a joke.

  “Fuck,” he uttered through his teeth. “This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for this freak.” A powerful kick shook Zak’s seat, but he didn’t even try to reason with the unreasonable.

  “It’s not his fault that I don’t like pussy.” Stitch briefly turned around and smacked Captain’s leg. “I am done doing what others try to push me to do. Aren’t we supposed to be fucking outlaws? Living life without rules? Who says I can’t fuck a guy if I want to? Fuck that.”

  For a moment, Captain’s face froze but only to explode with a snarl. “We’re not bound by civilians, that doesn’t mean we don’t have fucking rules.”

  Zak swallowed, eyeing Stitch in silence. He didn’t want to read too much into Stitch’s words, especially not after seeing him kill a man. It hadn't been planned, and Cox’s cruel words had been the trigger, but that didn’t change anything about the contents of the trunk. He wanted to make a hole in the ground and scream into it until his voice would give out. If only he could bury all his worries and doubts this way. Cox didn’t deserve this. He’d been a good guy, with dreams and hopes for the future that would never come.

  Zak glanced through the window, watching the passing trees as they drove. He was too numb to despair yet, but logically, what was he doing? He was helping to get rid of a body. He never thought he would be that guy. He used to joke with some of his friends about being so close they would call one another if need arose to hide a body. But he wouldn’t have done that for them. His eyes slowly turned to Stitch, who clasped his hands hard on the steering wheel, oddly pale in the face.

  “They’re our rules. Why don’t we just change them?” Stitch turned into yet another small path and ventured deeper into the trees.

  Captain leaned forward and grabbed both the front seats. “Because no real man wants to fraternize with a fag. Since you met him you even started lagging with club business. We need to expand. How can you not see that?”

  “That has nothing to do with Zak. I’m pulling back because I don’t want to get shot while dealing drugs. Is that so hard to understand?” Stitch scowled at Captain.

  “Then buy a fucking Vespa,” spat Captain and leaned back in the seat. He didn’t open his mouth for the rest of the ride, and for once Zak was missing his voice. The silence made him think too much, and the more focused Zak was on the cramps in his stomach, the more he believed that he could smell decay, which didn’t make any sense. After all, the body had to still be warm.

  Stitch parked the car in the mud by the swamp. The eerie lighting from the car and the sounds of thousands of insects reminded Zak of an X-Files episode.

  “Why? ‘Cause I don’t wanna mule drugs? I don’t need more trouble in my life,” Stitch hissed and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

  “It’s club business, and you’re the only one who’s got a problem with it. The vote passed, Stitch,” growled Captain, exiting the car as well. He kicked Zak’s door on his way to the water but Zak wouldn’t give him the satisfaction and only moved outside more quickly, despite all the cramps in his body.

  “It’s bullshit,” Stitch grumbled and went over to the trunk. “I don’t even want to talk about this. Let’s get this body to the gators.”

  Zak looked to his hands when Captain turned his smirking face toward him “I’ll get some stones, yeah?” he muttered, stepping away the moment the trunk was opened.

  “Thanks.” Stitch sighed like an old man when he looked inside.

  “I just don’t get it,” Captain continued opening his fugly mouth. “You were with Crystal for so many years, and it was fine.”

  Stitch snapped. “No, it wasn’t fine! That’s why we got divorced. You really are as dumb as a rock.” He pulled on something that sounded like a plastic bag.

  Zak looked away and switched on the flashlight in his phone, looking for stones or other heavy objects that could keep the body under the water. The situation was surreal. He had never done anything illegal. Okay, he’d done the petty stuff everyone does, but he never did anything that he actually considered ‘criminal’. It all changed since he met Stitch. He had been turning a blind eye to the Hounds’ activities, and now he was helping to feed the gators with a man he had slept with. A police officer. An overall decent man. Did it make him a bad person that he was willing to let Cox disappear without a trace because he didn’t want Stitch to be taken away from him for something that was clearly the result of misjudgement? It hadn’t been a cold-blooded murder, and Zak wanted to believe with all his heart that he was doing the right thing, even though most would disagree. But who could possibly benefit from Stitch doing time? If anything, putting him in jail would make his family miserable. And Zak would lose the only man who ever made him feel so intensely alive.

  “Because it doesn’t make sense!” Captain helped Stitch pick up the body parts with a grunt. “Why would you swap a life with Crystal for this dude? The blow jobs can’t be that good.”

  They carried the body toward the shore. It was barely visible in the darkness, but Zak still noticed Stitch shake his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. When you fall in love, even a kiss is mind-blowing. You don’t fuck other people, because there’s only one person you want to be close to. When he fucks me, it’s like I give him a part of my soul,” his words became quieter. “I’m not looking for other guys, and I don’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

  Zak turned around to face them, his heart tumbling all around his chest as if it wanted to break free and crawl to Stitch’s feet. He wasn’t a natural sap, but that was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said about him. Had Stitch reconsidered his decision to break up? Because Zak had already made up his mind, even if it meant being an accessory to manslaughter.

  Captain dropped his side of the bag, and it fell down with a dull thud. “Did this fag make you his bitch?” he uttered, sounding genuinely surprised.

  Stitch let go of the load as well. “You are not fucking listening, are you?”

  “You’re fucking delusional,” growled Captain, kicking the carcass. “You need to be fucking locked up.”

  “Let’s just get on with it. You can sit in the fucking car if you want. Zak, you got those rocks?”

  “Yeah, give me a second.” Zak breathed in the damp air and shut himself away from the conversation at the shore. He gathered a few stones and carried them back as quickly as humanly possible. He was happy that he kept the car keys on him because Captain walked back to the vehicle without another word.

  The next half an hour was the longest thirty minutes of Zak’s life. Whenever he tried to help, Stitch just told h
im to stay away, which Zak supposed was noble of him. Especially since killing people wasn’t some routine thing for Stitch either. He had to be traumatized by having to cut a body into pieces. Zak knew he was, but at this moment, Cox’s death was too surreal to sink in. It could be shock, but he felt cold inside, only focused on getting back into the safety of their home. An alligator peeking out of the water, with its eyes glistening in the light from the car, wasn’t helping Zak’s nerves. With every body part Stitch threw into the swamp, Zak’s palms got more sweaty, his imagination leading him to scenes where the reptiles attacked Stitch, and it would be too late to save him. He’d seen enough blood tonight to last him a lifetime.

  “I heard what you said,” he eventually uttered into the silence, glancing at his lover. He wanted to hug him, but there was no way he’d do that with that one-eyed bastard watching.

  Stitch didn’t look back at him, dragging the last, and biggest, bag toward the swamp. Zak gagged at the thought of what was in there. “Yeah,” he muttered.

  Zak shuddered and hugged himself as a flash of cold went all the way through his body. “What changed your mind?”

  “I never changed my mind.” Stitch grunted as he threw the bag as far as he could into the black water.

  Zak sighed, rushed toward him, and pulled him away from the shore. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the water getting rough in the moonlight as reptiles crept closer in the darkness, ready for some fresh meat. “Will you come back home with me?” he uttered, cold sweat sliding down his back.

  Stitch took a deep breath and held onto Zak’s hand. “If you’ll have me,” he whispered. “This was such a shit day, wasn’t it?”

  Zak squeezed his hand tightly with a shuddery sigh. A man who had trembled with pleasure in his bed turned into gator feed, and Zak was choosing to betray him. The death could still be discovered, they could still be charged with murder, but he was determined to keep himself in one piece. “I just want to kiss you so badly.”