Red Hot

by K. A. Merikan

  “He wouldn’t have shot me if you had some self-restraint.”

  That stung. Maybe he wouldn’t have had a problem with Ted if he hadn’t been a stupidly horny teenager. He probably wouldn’t have had that problem if he stuck to guys his own age either. Loki’s fingers bit into his forearms, but he looked up. “You’re right, it’s all my fault. Maybe you should break my neck first.”

  “Stay here, and maybe I won’t,” Jack said and walked out. Monster followed him without a word, and as Loki watched them disappear, a warm hand patted him on the back. Sam smirked when Loki glanced at him.

  “He’ll get over it. Make him dinner.”

  “And make it good. Fuck! I forgot about this!” Jack yelled from outside. “Motherfucker!”

  Loki flinched, but he rushed outside when Sam was locking the door. He jumped off the stairs and joined Jack by the broken chopper. “I need to be there!”

  Jack kneeled on the ground and petted the damaged golden paintwork with misery all over his face.

  Loki stood next to him, unsure what to do. It was a beautiful bike, and he was the one to wreck it. “Jack, I’m sorry...”

  Sam looked at the machine with a scowl. “Not your fault the ex got mental. We’ll sort it out later.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like Lucy would have ever opened her legs to me.” Jack slowly got up but wouldn’t look at Loki. It was worse than getting punched in the face.

  “Jack, you don’t need stuff to impress anyone,” whispered Loki, grabbing his own hand when it rose to touch Jack’s hand. He was so ashamed of himself for attacking the poor bike that clearly meant so much to Jack.

  “Stuff isn’t enough when you’re spotty all over and have radioactive hair,” Jack muttered when Sam walked over to his own bike and couldn’t hear them anymore.

  Loki scowled and looked around to check whether Monster was within hearing distance before speaking. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I think of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m the love of your life,” Jack whispered, but still scowled at his chopper.

  “And you’re so hot I can’t believe I can touch you every day.”

  “Am I?” Jack smirked, and looked at his friends, who were already waiting for him on their bikes.

  Loki exhaled. “I’d show you if we were alone. I fucking melt when you touch me,” he whispered, remembering the way Jack’s fingers had traced the side of his knee earlier.

  “You hate that Ted fucker?”

  Loki snorted, and a cold, gooey feeling spread throughout his stomach. “I want to see him die.”

  Jack’s eyebrows rose slightly, and he turned to his other bike without a word. He mounted the beast of a Harley and patted the bitch seat. Loki stared at it for a second before darting to take his place behind Jack’s back. His chest swelled with pride as he held on to the seat and pressed his knees against the backs of Jack’s thighs. His stomach was clenching at the thought of seeing Ted again, but with Jack at his side, he didn’t have to worry about a thing. This time it was him who’d be coming with pit bulls.

  Jack passed Loki a helmet, and when he revved his bike, the vibrations went through Loki’s body, making his heart beat even faster. How he wished to slip his hands under Jack’s arms and hold on to him tightly. Jack’s hair still had the faint scent of hospital, but to Loki, he couldn’t smell any better, because it meant he was alive. Just like Ted wouldn’t be.

  Chapter 16

  Sam, Red Jack, and Monster discussed the situation with Borg, and it wasn’t a pleasant conversation considering that Red Jack had tried to hide the gunshot wound in the first place. Monster was kind enough to tell Borg all about that. They were to set out at night in a van with stolen licence plates, so they needed to wait at the club house. The deal had been sealed from the moment Red Jack went with Loki’s story. People lost their teeth for getting too close to a Coffin Nails’ bike, let alone shooting a patched member. Ted Mozer was a dead man walking, especially without any gang associations.

  Loki had said that the guy used to make drugs, but from what Monster gathered as they waited for nightfall, Ted was now a deadbeat crackhead, always in debt, always sponging off new boyfriends and family. A pathetic man, not really worthy of anyone’s interest.

  Loki kept to Red Jack’s shadow whenever he could and kept to public areas when he couldn’t, always on his toes, a bit jumpy. It was hard to tell what was going on in his head when he threw his ex to the sharks. Was he that cruel? Crazy? Both? He had shot Red Jack, and his eyes would sometimes go all empty and strange. Maybe it was the tumor eating at his brain.

  To make things worse, Lucy was dancing tonight, and Red Jack avoided looking at her, as if she could infect his fresh wound. He’d always thought he’d be God’s gift to a piece of pussy like her, but since he’d found out that she didn’t share the sentiment, he was too embarrassed to even approach her. He’d made a fool out of himself too many times already.

  What he really needed before heading out after midnight was to find a secluded spot and talk to Loki, squeeze out more about Mozer. The way Loki said that he wanted to see the guy die had a dark undertone Red Jack needed to explore if he was to blow the tweaker’s brains out. Red Jack might not have been the nicest guy out there, but he wasn’t okay with just killing off random people.

  An opportunity arose when Sam finally left him alone to chat with Candy about something she needed him to fix in her bakery. Red Jack gestured to Loki and walked out of the lounge as soon as Loki followed. It was a regular weekday, so there weren’t that many people to bother them, but Red Jack was still on pins and needles until they left the clubhouse and headed for the garage, which at this point was closed to customers and pretty much deserted, unless one of the guys was working on a private project.

  He could hear Loki’s footsteps behind him, but neither of them spoke as they walked through the gate, along the outer wall of the fort-like clubhouse, and into the shop yard. Red Jack headed straight to the building at the back, which he used for paintwork. He opened it up and let Loki pass into the darkness before walking in and locking the door behind himself. Red Jack lit a cigarette and turned on the light by the small desk, the only piece of furniture in the room. For a brief moment, his gaze lay on the unfinished paintwork. The customer would have to wait a few more days. Other business came first.

  Red Jack lit another cigarette and passed the first one to Loki. “What did this methhead do?”

  The cigarette trembled in Loki’s fingers, but when he spoke, his voice was as steady as ever. “He did a lot of things. I was with him three years.”

  “I hit you. You wanna kill me too?” Red Jack watched the sharp shadows dancing on Loki’s face.

  Loki took a long drag from the cigarette and held in the smoke, closing his eyes. He curled his shoulders, appearing smaller than he was, and pulled down a few strands of hair, covering the scars on his cheek. “You didn’t do it like he did. You didn’t break my arm, you didn’t knock me out, you didn’t...” He swallowed the rest of the sentence and shook his head. “Not the same.”

  “How did you two break up?”

  Loki smiled and leaned against the desk, gently twisting his sensuous body as he did so. “Told you. I reported him.”

  “And that was the last you’ve heard of him?” Somehow Red Jack didn’t believe Mozer wouldn’t have tried to take revenge.

  Loki’s Adam’s apple bobbed abruptly, and his dark eyes glanced at Red Jack’s face. “No. He and his friends fucked me up bad. I don’t think he knows I’m still alive.”

  Red Jack licked his lips. “Those scars on you were no bet, were they?” His pulse rose rapidly, filling his veins with rage that made him curl his fingers into fists.

  Loki kept his gaze and slowly shook his head. He raised his hand and just kept it there for a moment before combing back his hair. He gave a low grunt and rubbed the scars on his cheek. They must have been covered with something because very soon the tic-tac-toe pattern changed color t
o a pink shade. “They were playing. On my face.”

  Red Jack groaned and inhaled a big breath of smoke before reaching out to run his fingers over the raised skin. “Fuckers cut you up?” He couldn’t stop his breaths from getting deeper.

  Loki gently shook off Red Jack’s hand and pulled up his shirt, turning around to show him the abstract scarification on his back. Loki pulled his long hair forward. “I had it changed so that you couldn’t see the words.” He took a shuddery breath. “It was Rat cumwhore.”

  It wasn’t that Loki was sweet, or not a rat for that matter, but it was becoming clear that sending the guy to prison was the only thing Loki could think of doing to end the miserable relationship where he was constantly abused. Red Jack’s imagination worked all too vividly, suggesting torture he didn’t want to see inflicted on Loki. Sure, the guy could be an annoying fucker at times, but the kind of evil that came with those scars was something else entirely.

  Red Jack butted the cigarette and slid his arms under Loki’s. Fuck, it felt good. Relief as if he’d taken a long drag of weed after a stressful day.

  Loki leaned back into him and gently picked up Red Jack’s hand, leading it into his soft hair, all the way to the scalp. “There are some here too. They cut my hair with a knife, and... some of the skin got pulled off as well,” he said softly.

  Red Jack traced the scars with his fingers and couldn’t help but kiss Loki’s ear from the other side. “How long did they keep you?” As horrible as Loki’s story was, the violence that was about to spill tonight was already exciting Red Jack because of the reasons behind it.

  Loki gasped, melting into Red Jack’s embrace, completely trusting. “Three days, I think. I was bleeding real bad by the end of it. I wanted them to kill me, but it just went on and on. They wouldn’t even give me water, and I was so thirsty I’d drink anything... I guess that makes me a cumwhore.” He snorted and squeezed his hand on Red Jack’s.

  Red Jack swallowed. It was worse than he’d imagined, and that thought truly terrified him. Not in the sense of being afraid of tweaker scum like Ted Mozer, but scared for Loki, even though this shit had gone down a good two years ago. How could anyone go through being brutalized that way and live a normal life? How did Loki still want to fuck anyone after? The hug he’d given Loki before didn’t seem like enough, so he squeezed him tightly and gave his neck a tender kiss. “It’s not funny, you fucker.”

  Loki chuckled. “No? Damn, I thought I needed to find humor in the bad things.”

  “Dying is not funny. I know.” Red Jack took a long whiff of Loki’s hair. It was a bit greasy after the two days in hospital, but it still had that herbal undertone Red Jack loved.

  “It’s not, but after those three days I was really happy that I was dying. They dug me a hole, covered me with dirt, and left. I couldn’t breathe. I don’t remember getting out, but I was told someone found me crawling at the side of the road and took me to the hospital.” Loki slowly turned around in Red Jack’s arms. His eyes were two black holes, sucking Red Jack in and refusing to let go. “You would never do that, right?”

  Red Jack let out a shaky breath. Bastards. He grabbed the sides of Loki’s face and wouldn’t even blink. “I. Would. Never. Do that. I promise. I’m no Mr. Right, but this sick shit is not something I’d do.”

  Loki bit his lip. He covered Red Jack’s hands with his own, gently petting them with his fingers. His eyes shone like twin black pearls. How could anyone do all those horrible things to someone like Loki?

  “To me, you are perfect,” whispered Loki.

  His toes curled in Red Jack’s boots, and he was happy no one would see that. He wanted to turn off the light and fuck Loki here and now, show him just how perfect he was, but it was too close to midnight, too close to other people, too risky. He settled for a kiss as hungry as Red Jack was for Mozer’s blood. Loki’s mouth opened up to him, warm and slick and wonderful as their bodies clashed together with an urgency that used to be a tiny flicker in the depths of Red Jack’s mind. He wanted to hold Loki tight, keep him safe, fuck him hard. All those thoughts melted as their tongues moved together in Loki’s mouth, all sounds muted by the furious beating of Red Jack’s heart.

  He had never kissed a man before he kissed Loki, so he wasn’t sure if it was Loki himself, or—what would be more scary—it was kissing a man that was so intense. They understood each other in a way Jack had never experienced. Even Keith never knew the whole story of Red Jack’s love and lust. With Loki, he could be his true self and still be accepted. Good enough without pretending to be something else. Red Jack let one of his hands slide to Loki’s back as they kissed, and he closed his eyes while tracing the ugly scars between Loki’s shoulder blades. The whole world could disappear if that meant he could explore those lips forever, slide his tongue along the gums and the roof of Loki’s mouth, nip on the lips and kiss, kiss, kiss with his heart revving in his chest.

  Then Red Jack’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and eventually he had to pull away, even as Loki followed his mouth with his open lips. They couldn’t stay here any longer, or it could end up disastrous. He took a deep breath and petted Loki’s cheek with his thumb as he took the call. The scars didn’t look ugly anymore. Sam told him to come back to the club house. It was on.

  Five minutes later, they met Sam and Monster by the latter’s nondescript black van, and both the guys zeroed in on Loki.

  “He can’t come,” Monster said right away, without even stopping to pull on a pair of thick rubber gloves.

  Red Jack tensed up. This confrontation was the last thing he wanted now. “He will just watch.”

  “It’s club business,” insisted Monster.

  Sam frowned, but before he opened his mouth, Glock emerged from the building. “You still here? It’s taking you ages.”

  Red Jack felt a flush on his face and looked away. After telling Loki about Keith, it was suddenly really hard for him to look at Glock without feeling guilty about lusting after his late son.

  Monster dropped his hands. Glock and his wife had essentially taken Monster in when he had still been a teenager, so there was no wonder Monster wanted to impress his fake dad. “We can’t decide what to do with Loki.”

  Red Jack avoided looking at Sam too, afraid that his best friend would see right through him, but he needed to man up and stand up for Loki. “His asshole ex is getting what’s coming tonight, and all he wants to do is be there. He fucking deserves it.”

  Glock was silent for several seconds. He was the club’s sergeant-at-arms, and so his decision would be final, as Borg would not want to discredit Glock in the eyes of everyone else, especially not in such a minor matter. “Won’t he talk? Get scared?” asked Glock finally.

  Red Jack put his hand on Loki’s nape, and he could swear Loki leaned into the touch the tiniest bit. Not enough for anyone to see, but more than enough for Red Jack to sense it. “He’s my cousin, not a rat.”

  Glock narrowed his eyes. “So you vouch for him?”

  “Yes,” Red Jack said without hesitation, but surprised himself at how easy the word came to him. It had to still be the kiss lingering on his lips that had him so drunk on confidence.

  Glock nodded. “All right then. Take him, and don’t waste the whole night,” he said before walking off.

  Sam exhaled. “That must be some grudge,” he muttered to Loki before opening the van on the driver’s side.

  “Fucker should have stayed in the gutter,” Red Jack added, almost believing his own words now. For a moment, he was so blinded by rage that he forgot it was actually Loki who shot him, not Mozer. Then again, maybe it was Mozer who made Loki so fucked-up in the head. If that was the case, then he was guilty of the whole thing. If not, he still deserved all that was coming his way.

  Loki wordlessly entered the van, followed by Monster, who gave Red Jack the look of silent judgment before closing the backdoors.

  Chapter 17

  Loki pushed his fingers over the scars on his scalp. Even though time cou
ldn’t erase the vividness of those three days of torture, he still found it hard to believe that even the skin on his head had been torn up, with a flap of it hanging over his forehead, bloodied and aching. Two years later, and all Loki had to remember it by was a few scars. He’d gotten off lightly, without any permanent damage to his organs. The doctors even patched up his torn insides, and if it weren’t for the ugly markings on Loki’s face, the only ones he was constantly confronted with, it would be as if it had never happened. The only scars would be in his heart.

  He pulled on his thumb, looking at the traces of grime on the floor of the van as he listened to the sounds outside. It was quiet in the thatch of trees at the back of Ted’s rundown house, and so he listened to the chirping of insects, hidden away in complete darkness. He was sweating. His mouth was going dry. Now that he was to see Ted again, the weight of it had him hesitating. Maybe he should have stayed home after all? Let Jack deal with it?

  But there was no turning back when the backdoor of the van slammed open, and three men in balaclavas threw a wheezing Ted inside. For a split second, Loki’s eyes met Jack’s, and there was no hesitation in them. Jack jumped in behind Ted and pulled the door shut as Sam and Monster rushed to take their places in the separate cabin at the front of the van.

  Loki caught his breath, staring at the body wriggling on the floor. Ted’s eyes were so wide he could easily see them in the dark, but with a makeshift gag in his mouth, Ted could only utter unintelligible groans as he twisted around, trying to get away.

  “Hi Teddy,” someone said, and it took Loki a few seconds to realize it was his own voice.

  Jack pulled up his balaclava when the van drove off with a screech of tires. He sat next to Ted and watched him without a word. His bulky body, combined with the leather jacket and the rings on his fingers made for a menacing presence, but it was when he pulled out a switchblade that chills went down Loki’s spine. Ted must have had some idea what was happening, because he whined into his gag and actually crawled toward Loki. His feet and wrists were tightly bound with tape, so he didn’t seem like much of a threat. His long, greasy hair was tied into a thinning ponytail, and the sores on his arms suggested that his addiction has gotten worse. Looking at him now, Loki was ashamed Jack knew he’d been with such a loser.