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

  Knight snorted. “I’m not having this conversation. I will smack down any argument you might have, because staying here is nonsense. Pack your bags, and I’ll take you with me.”

  Elliot shifted his weight again and again, as if there was anything in this trailer that he could possibly miss. When he finally moved, the first thing he reached for was The Count’s suit, which had been carefully laid out on the bed, but Knight tsked loudly and helped himself to the other beer in Elliot’s fridge. “No way in hell you’re wearing that around the clubhouse.”

  Elliot harrumphed but didn’t protest and once he started packing, it turned out he already had most of his things stored in a large backpack. He was ready to go by the time Knight finished his beer.

  “But I’ll come back when it gets warmer,” Elliot said as if he wanted to convince Knight he wasn’t a charity case. Knight gave himself time to finish the beer and squashed the can.

  “I’ll decide when you come back.”

  For a moment Elliot just stared back at him, but when he turned around and left the trailer without protest, Knight’s grin widened.

  Chapter 7

  Elliot’s car chose this day to cough up its dying breath. So there Elliot was, on the back of Knight’s bike, cuddled up close and still shell shocked by what had happened. Knight had one of the prettiest, tastiest dicks Elliot ever put his lips on, and he had the whole package to go with it. Elliot had no idea where they stood after the sex, but even if they stood in quicksand, he didn’t care because he had a piece of Knight inside him now, and it made him warm all over.

  Knight had even forced Elliot to wear a hat and gloves, and zipped up Elliot’s hoodie. Was it patronizing? Yes. Did Elliot care? Hell no. It felt as if someone cared for his health and wellbeing for once, and he’d hold on to this lifeline for as long as it wouldn’t rip and leave him in the cold, lonely waters again.

  Knight’s hair blew into his face as they sped along the highway, but Elliot closed his eyes and just enjoyed its gentle touch, smelling leather, and the rich cologne that made him as hot at Knight’s ripped stomach had earlier.

  He didn’t think much, just let his hero whisk him away, down the asphalt path through the thick woods, and all the way to the grim walls of the clubhouse of the Kings of Hell where, for once, he would actually be invited.

  Would Knight take Elliot to his bed tonight and fuck him again? Would they kiss? Would he get a nice meal? He had no idea how things would go from now on, but after witnessing how Knight dealt with Martin, it was hard for Elliot to imagine things taking a bad turn.

  Once they stopped by a large garage that housed numerous vehicles, from bikes to vans, Elliot took a final inhale of Knight’s patches, but the other scents surrounding him were complementing the leather and musk very well. Muddy ground after the rain, motor oil, and old brick. He wasn’t sure if it was real or just his imagination, but he could swear the building had its own distinct scent. Like a mossy boulder in a swamp.

  The garage itself was big as a football field and featured several oversized shutter gates. Ventilation pipes ran along the ceiling, creating shadows between the armature and thick cobwebs.

  Knight stretched and put both their helmets into a compartment at the back of his bike. “Okay. Time for introductions before we can find you a bed,” he said and gently pushed Elliot toward a metal door in the corner.

  Elliot adjusted his backpack and gave Knight a wary look. “What will you tell them?”

  Knight frowned as they entered a dusty corridor with a floor of red tiles, some of which had visible cracks. “I will be vouching for you, so don’t break the rules. Is that clear?”

  Elliot hated rules. His dad used to have a million of them, so did school, and the one time he managed to keep a job for over a month, as a waiter at a small café, he’d hated every single day of being forced to smile and suffer indignities from patrons. “What rules?”

  “Don’t stick your nose where it’s not wanted. Beast won’t tolerate breaches of security, so consider this fair warning. If a door reads ‘Members Only’, take that to heart.”

  Elliot’s skin seemed to tingle in Knight’s presence, as if the guy were a powerful magnet. “I won’t. I can be a good boy when I choose to.” His gaze swept over the floor and walls that used to be white, eventually settling on a hole in the wall that looked like the perfect spot for a mouse family. While the clubhouse showed signs of maintenance, it seemed that the bikers only renovated what absolutely needed to be updated. The party areas were in decent shape, but the hallways such as this one—not so much, despite obviously being in frequent use.

  “You better, or there will be no more cock for you,” said Knight with a snigger, and casually patted Elliot’s shoulder. It only made things more confusing. Would he now be Knight’s… lover? Or did Knight generally enjoy getting head from guys and wanted to have Elliot around for that?

  They climbed a flight of stairs and passed through yet another hallway, bare and undecorated like a vacated apartment. As they walked on, weird silence made room for an old-school rock and roll melody, which played softly from an open room ahead. That was where they were heading. Knight lead the way into a spacious lounging area with a selection of leather sofas, and music posters hanging in frames along the walls.

  Bright red shocked his eyes upon entry, and he blinked, spinning around to take in the vast chamber with a giant flat-screen television on one side and the entrance to an industrial-sized kitchen on the other. Letters painted by hand in shiny black paint drew his eyes to the space above the doorway, and the single sentence showered his back with shivers.

  Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

  It was yet another element of the motorcycle club’s image, like the crowned skull they used as their emblem, but Elliot felt sufficiently warned to conclude the imagery was effective.

  Tall windows were holes in the blood-red shade of the walls and bathed the entire space with less light than they ought, judging on size alone, as if the entire building were somehow surrounded by shadow that wouldn’t let the sun in for fear of dispersing some infernal power that was on the Kings of Hell’s beck and call, ensuring their continued success.

  Elliot’s legs turned into lead when he spotted a severe-looking face twisted by scar tissue and bold tattoos. Beast was spread out on one of the sofas with his feet resting on the coffee table. A stunningly attractive long-haired man sat curled up under his arm like a favorite pet of his highness the King of Hell. They looked up to see who entered, and Elliot found himself completely lost in the etiquette that would be required of him. He’d never been very good at politely dealing with regular people, so how was he to cope with a bunch of bikers?

  A dog so huge he could be Cerberus himself (minus two heads) first raised its head off the floor, then rose and ran up to them. The beast was larger than many of those small ponies Elliot had seen online and its sheer size had Elliot hiding behind Knight’s back. His host didn’t seem to mind and scratched the Rottweiler’s head. The dog licked him briefly, but its dark, beady eyes were focused on the newcomer—on Elliot—and it would stop at nothing before it got the sniff it clearly thought it deserved. Stiff as the animal’s proximity made him, Elliot tried to remain calm and stood still as the wet nose dug against his leg.

  “Afternoon. Who’s your guest?” Beast asked, and the dog must have had enough of greetings, as it quickly returned to Beast’s side, loudly dropping to the floor.

  Knight casually draped his arm around Elliot’s shoulders and led him toward the sofa/throne. Yes, it was an old piece of furniture, with some of the leather looking worn and pale from repeated friction, but when it housed Beast it was nothing short of a throne.

  “Ah, you won’t believe it. This is the Count.”

  Beast’s eye twitched, which was especially unnerving because with one side of his face so badly scarred, Elliot wasn’t sure if that wasn’t just a normal feature.

  Elliot held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to me
et you.” His heart was in his throat and the arm around his shoulders, though ridiculously pleasant, made him even more confused about his place.

  “He stole my drink,” Beast’s boyfriend said with a frown.

  This was a bad start.

  Knight groaned and grabbed Elliot’s jaw with his free hand. “Look at that face. You sure it was him?”

  “If Laurent says it’s him, then it’s him,” Beast groaned and Elliot decided to let his hand wither away as if he’d never extended it for a handshake.

  “I mean… his face was painted, but you’re the one saying it’s him,” Laurent added in a frosty voice. “Are you sure it’s The Count?”

  Knight took his hands off Elliot and stretched. “Oh, I’m sure. I just saved his ass. Some idiot tried to kill him, so I thought we could house him in one of the spare rooms until this problem quiets down.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  A new voice caught Elliot’s attention, and when he glanced toward a large, well-equipped kitchen divided from the lounging area with a long counter he saw yet another familiar face. It was Jake, the prospect who’d caught him red-handed during the party. So now Elliot was off to an even worse start.

  A red flush appeared on Jake’s cheeks, and he hugged a large tub of popcorn to his chest. “Why is he here?”

  Elliot’s heart sank. He’d already grown fond of the idea of being with Knight in Fane’s home and getting private tours of the mansion. Had the mistake from a few days back thwarted his chances for good?

  “White Knight’s been activated,” Beast grumbled, shaking his head.

  Knight’s entire body went rigid at Elliot’s side. “What? This is bullshit, brother. He’s a guy.”

  Beast spread his free arm to the side as Laurent threw daggers at Elliot with his eyes. “So why are you trying to save him? Put him back under the rock where you found him. This guy smells like trouble from a mile away.”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. I can take him back to town myself. What if he’s a spy?”

  Knight groaned and gestured toward Elliot. “Look at him. Do you really think he’s gonna be a problem once he actually gets to see Fane’s room? That’s all he wants. I’ll go with him so that he can have his fill, and that’ll be that. With the ex off his back he’ll sleep peacefully, maybe suck someone’s cock as a thank you. He’s not that bad once you take off that dumb costume.”

  I could just leave, Elliot wanted to say, more embarrassed by the second, but the truth was he desperately didn’t want to go. He wanted to see ‘Fane’s room’, and sleep in a cozy bed, and suck Knight off again. He just didn’t expect the whole world to hear about it.

  Beast froze for a while, watching Knight with tension around his eyes. “You’re fucking him? Seriously? What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Knight? Less than a week ago you told me you’d get rid of him for good.”

  Jake actually gasped, as if he were watching a soap opera. “That is so unfair.”

  Knight rubbed his head with both hands. “I’m telling you he’s harmless. He’s saying stupid shit online, so what? Was I supposed to let him die out there?”

  Laurent rolled his eyes. “That sounds dramatic. We live in a civilized society. There are no wolves after him.”

  “Why are you being so dramatic? I like his ideas about Fane as much, or as little, as you, but if we let him stay here, we will be able to actually convert him.” He pulled Elliot closer and poked at the top of his head. “A little bit of brainwashing, Laurent.”

  Elliot swatted the hand away. Even he had limits to what he would stand. “I didn’t come here to be insulted. My videos are actually very popular, thank you very much. The last one, about Fane’s cannibalistic passions has over three thousand views.”

  Laurent’s eyes grew wider. “‘Cannibalistic passions’?”

  “I told you. He needs help,” Knight said, pointing at Elliot. “And by the way, I could get three thousand views easily if I uploaded a video of me making a man-bun. It’s not that hard.”

  Something in Elliot boiled. “Not hard? I’ve been working on my channel for years. You don’t get views just like that!”

  “That’s because most people don’t want to hear love poems to serial killers. They do on the other hand, want hot shirtless guys playing with their hair,” Knight said and, as if to tease Elliot, combed back his hair with his fingers and gathered it into a sort-of ponytail.

  Elliot hated every second of the process because he loved it so much.

  Laurent looked up at Beast with a bright smile that he didn’t have for Elliot. With his porcelain skin, smooth wavy hair, and the features of a classical sculpture, his beauty bordered on obscene, and he was so out of Beast’s league that Elliot wondered what kind of arrangement those two might have. “Would I get a lot of views?”

  Knight laughed, but when Beast looked at Laurent and a small smile graced his permanently crooked lips, the connection he shared with his partner was undeniable. “Of course you would. But don’t publish anything like that…What if someone tries to steal you from me?”

  “I’ll make one just for you,” Laurent said with a smile so wide Elliot could gag on the sweetness of it.

  “I bet you can’t get more views on your stupid man-bun video within a month,” Elliot said to Knight to end the topic, but Knight wouldn’t let it go.

  “Oh yeah? And what do I get if I win? Blowjobs don’t count since you’ve already given me one.”

  Beast groaned, and Elliot’s ears got so hot he needed to take his hat off.

  “How about he stops mentioning Laurent Mercier in his videos?” Laurent suggested with a frown. This was likely a sore spot, because Laurent shared his name with William Fane’s killer.

  Elliot spread his arms. “It’s not my fault the guy was there in suspicious circumstances. Delivering books, my ass. They were fucking.”

  Laurent looked as if he wanted to stand up and charge at him, but Beast stopped him with a firm hold on the shoulder. “You want that bet or not? We can all be witnesses.”

  Elliot crossed his arms on his chest and looked up at Knight. “Fine. And if I win, you roleplay Fane with me.”

  Knight chuckled. “What? You want me to dress up as William Fane and fuck you like that? You are one messed up sonofabitch. But it’s on, Elliot. Oh, it’s on,” he said with a wide smile as he turned toward his friends. “He needs someone to show him the facts. Isn’t this just the perfect opportunity?

  “No,” mumbled Jake from the side, but everyone ignored him.

  “No one knows all the facts!” Elliot couldn’t stand the indignity anymore, and being out of costume wasn’t helping his confidence. “We’ve only found five bodies so far, plus the two discovered after William Fane’s death. Why does the freshest one not have an arm, huh?”

  Laurent shook his head. “Maybe because Fane wanted to sleep with it under his pillow? You can’t apply human logic to that monster.”

  “Or he might have wanted to use the body for sex. We don’t know if he didn’t like them dead. By the way, we would not be roleplaying that. I draw a line at necrophilia,” Knight said, glancing at Elliot with his eyes narrowed. “But maybe we could find out the truth if we team up and search for real evidence instead of coming up with some bullshit.”

  That Elliot could agree on. He dared to smile.

  Beast’s tubal voice cut through the conversations like an axe. “I don’t like him being here. He already snooped around twice, and he is clearly fucking crazy. What guarantee do I have there won’t be any more trouble?”

  Knight exhaled loudly. “I’ll make sure he’s supervised.”

  The way Knight opened a protective umbrella over Elliot’s head gave him goose bumps, and he stood that inch closer to his savior. Even if Knight had repeatedly told everyone that Elliot gave him head today, he didn’t seem to mean it in a bad way.

  “I will not be a problem. All I want is to see the mansion.”

  Beast massaged his temple. “Remind me again why
is he staying here, then? Can’t you just give him a tour and fuck him elsewhere?”

  If it wasn’t for how badly Elliot wanted to get that tour, he’d lash out no matter how scary Beast looked. There had to be some limits to rudeness.

  “Look, I stopped him from entering private rooms just a few days ago. He can’t just get in here uninvited and do as he wants,” Jake said in anger.

  Knight looked back, finally paying him some attention. “Isn’t that exactly how you first came here?”

  Jake’s jaw dropped, and he tried to protest, but Knight silenced him by pressing two fingers against his lips.

  “We both know how it was. You were just a brat who wanted to show his high school buddies what a badass he was. And once you were caught, it was all howls for mercy, and empty promises. You’re still here, because you had potential.”

  Beast sighed. “Jake, leave us.”

  “But—”

  “Leave.”

  At least this time it was someone other than Elliot being humiliated. Jake glared at Elliot but did as told, leaving the popcorn behind. Damn, that tub smelled tasty, all buttery and sweet. Elliot hadn’t even eaten today, so the scent was making his mouth water.

  Jake took his time, but once he closed the door behind him, Knight spoke.

  “Look, I get why you don’t want him here. I totally do, but he’s just been attacked, and we might be enemies when it comes to historical truth, but it’s always good fun to discuss stuff with someone who actually cares. I’m not gonna let that psycho ex of his murder him. Would you take on this kind of burden when we have so many empty bedrooms here?”

  “I thought he enjoyed the company of psychopaths,” Laurent hissed, his pretty mouth spitting venom at Elliot.

  Beast sipped some beer and tapped Laurent’s shoulder with his fingertips. “Who’s that man? Will he be a problem to us?” he asked, and this time the question was directed at Elliot.

  “He shouldn’t be…” Elliot said with a deep sigh, embarrassed to have to share all this bullshit. “He’s just a guy. He’s pretty tough and just got out of jail for theft, but he wouldn’t mess with bikers.” He smiled slightly at the memory of Knight’s fist repeatedly landing in Martin’s face.