Beast shook his head. “‘Fragile’? He’s always looking for a good ass whooping, if you ask me. So you’re gonna be his savior? His white knight?”
Knight supposed he deserved that last bit after his own comment earlier.
“So he grows spikes as soon as he feels attacked, and he’s got a fucked-up taste in men—or had so far—and he snaps at everyone because he doesn’t know what else to do. But when you show him kindness, he turns into the sweetest guy. I’m not gonna let him down.”
“By which you mean getting Fane out of him, housing him here forever, finding him a boyfriend, or making sure he doesn’t die?”
Knight scowled, turning away from Elliot, because he was too much of a distraction. Thoughts whispered against the inside of his skull, telling him so many conflicting things he didn’t know himself what to feel. “Look, Beast, I know this is a bit crazy, okay? But he’s different. He wants to listen to the stuff that I like, and he’s also into history. We can talk about it for ages.”
Beast sat behind the desk and tapped his fingers against it. “So you like him. That much I’ve figured out.” He squinted at Knight. “You’re not… angry I spend so much time with Laurent nowadays, right?”
“What? Why?” Knight asked, willing to rather focus on the second part of Beast’s comment.
“‘Cause you used to come to me with any new findings on your family. Come on, Knight. You’re dodging the point here. The boy clearly has a crush on you the size of an ocean, so if you don’t see it, I’ve gotta spell it out to you. Does he understand you don’t do boyfriends?”
“We’re fucking again,” Knight said, sensing hot needles all over. His brain was trying to come up with alternatives to the things he was feeling, but there was no denying that his libido had been low recently, only to suddenly spike the moment he and Elliot were close.
“That doesn’t answer my question. If you want him as a friend, don’t lead him on. You said it yourself that he has no friends, no family, and a string of shitty ex-boyfriends. He will cling to you, and it will all go to shit.”
Knight swallowed, feeling blows of heat and cold inside his body. He hated this kind of uncertainty. “Look, I know his face isn’t as pretty as your Laurent’s, and that he’s so gangly, and that he can be a giant dick sometimes, but... I don’t know. When he’s there, I just can’t help myself. It’s like he’s the hottest guy on the planet, even though I logically know he isn’t.”
Beast watched him for a long time in silence, then glanced back at Elliot again. “What if you were to make him yours? Does the idea make you want to stick a knife in your eye? Would it be like when you couldn’t promise Jordan not to do guys?”
Knight licked his lips, suddenly uncomfortable. “You can’t compare him to Jordan. She was dumb and empty like a beer keg after a party. When I talk to him, sparks are flying, you know. It’s so weird. I... stopped fucking other people when he came here,” he admitted, embarrassed. This was not who Knight was. Knight fucked whoever he wanted and whenever he wanted. Had anyone other than Jake noticed the change?
Beast leaned back in the chair, folding his hands in his lap. “That’s… what? Over two months? No one else? Not on the trips out of town?”
“I just didn’t feel like it, all right? What about you? I know it’s only been a few months, but how do you expect to sleep with one person for the rest of your life? How do people live like that?”
Beast sighed. “My dick hasn’t gone soft to hot people other than Laurent, but you just make that choice, Knight. I bet people sometimes make eyes at Laurent, or approach him in town if they don’t know who he belongs to, but I trust him. It’s a question of self-discipline. Remember when you were getting ripped for that photoshoot years ago? You still wanted to eat bread and ice cream, but you chose not to. And if I had the opportunity to get it on with someone else, I wouldn’t either, because it would break Laurent’s heart. I know it’s sappy as fuck, but that’s what it is when you care about someone more than you do about yourself.”
Knight swallowed hard and stopped himself from looking at Elliot, even though he really wanted to. “I... don’t think he’d be up for an open thing.”
“There’s your answer. Now, what you do with that, is another matter.”
The door burst open and Laurent rushed in, panting and red on the face. “Sorry I’m so late, there has been an electrical emergency in my room. I tried to deal with the wiring, like Knight had shown me, but… I have not been successful,” he muttered the last bit and held up three bandaged fingers.
Beast’s mouth opened, and he shot out from the chair, grabbing the injured hand. “What the hell were you thinking? Do we have naked wires in the apartment now?”
“Maybe just let me deal with it next time, Laurent?” Knight said, approaching them too. “What happened? What was the emergency?”
Laurent sighed, letting Beast examine his hand. “The light stopped working, so I assumed the wiring disconnected. I got a small shock. I admit that I might have been too eager to put my skills into practice. I’ve turned off the switch before I left.”
Knight frowned. “Did you check the lightbulb first?”
“Right. The lightbulb must have ran out of electricity. How could I have missed that?”
Beast groaned and pulled Laurent to his chest. “Never handle electricity on your own again, okay?”
“You listen to him, Laurent. Watching me at work and asking questions does not equal learning to handle wiring,” Knight said, amused only because nothing serious happened.
Laurent nodded, all flustered, but his attention finally shifted to Elliot, and he only pressed into Beast’s embrace harder. After the talk they’d had with Beast, Knight could imagine how he would feel if a ghost of, say, Martin, hung around trying to kill Elliot. He’d have his arms around Elliot just like Beast had his around Laurent.
Laurent frowned. “I am still of the opinion that he should be exiled for his actions. There must be consequences. He is a man of twenty-five. He can fend for himself.”
Knight huffed, annoyed by Laurent waving his flag of righteousness in front of his face. “No. He’s staying, because I want him here. Isn’t a guy allowed to make mistakes anymore? Weren’t you crushing on Fane once?”
Laurent’s eyes went wide. “That was long before I knew what a vile creature he was! Elliot spoke about Fane’s victims many times as if they were trifles, mice to play with for the cat he loved.”
“Well, now he’s a mouse too, and you want to push him out to be eaten. Don’t you have a bit of heart in you for anyone else than Beast?” asked Knight, increasingly aggravated. Especially that he found himself pulled into those ridiculous, old-timey comparisons.
“I do, but is it even good for him to stay here? Would it not be better for him to live somewhere in Brecon where you could visit?” Laurent tried, making it seem as if it were perfectly fine to just kick Elliot out.
“Really? How about you move out to Brecon so Beast can visit you?”
Laurent pouted, and his eyes slid over Elliot, who just sat there in the corner, cuffed and listening to heavy metal for comfort. “So that’s how it is?”
“So maybe I want him to stay with me, all right? Don’t remember that being a crime,” hissed Knight.
Laurent stepped back from Beast with a deep sigh. “I guess the puzzle of how to send Fane into eternal flames is one that I would like to solve.”
Beast leaned down and kissed the top of Laurent’s head. “That’s my boy.”
Knight exhaled and finally looked back to see if Elliot was fine. The thought that a maniac like Fane could hurt him even now in slight, sinister ways, like making Elliot bite off his own tongue, was making Knight sick.
“I’ve been reading,” Laurent continued, “but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.” He looked up at Beast. “So I’m starting to consider if we shouldn’t… ask the demon for advice on the matter?”
Beast groaned and punched the wall. “We can’
t become slaves to that thing. Any other ideas?”
Laurent swallowed and hugged his injured hand to his chest. “Well… an exorcism?”
Knight whistled in disbelief, but the truth was that if that sent Fane’s ass out of their lives, then he could pray, pour holy water, and donate money to the local church.
Chapter 25
Elliot no longer desired Fane’s company. And yet the ghost was always there, always taunting Elliot with insults, always looming somewhere in the background, hurling slaps and pinches when they were least expected. Two days had passed since the disastrous New Year’s party and the presence that used to be a minor inconvenience had become difficult to cope with. Even though in a convoluted way Fane had brought Knight and Elliot back together, he would also never leave them alone. What was even more frustrating, Elliot was kept away from any plans meant to save him, because if he listened to something—so did Fane. The limbo this left him in was bearable only because of Knight’s caring attention.
Elliot sat in the office while Knight worked there, went with him to run errands, but whenever Knight was off, he showed a genuine interest in Elliot, which often resulted in the most amazing sex. He acted as if Elliot were important. As if there was something unique about Elliot worthy of cherishing. A part of Elliot even considered that if keeping Fane’s ghost inside of him meant that Knight would never leave his side, then maybe he could live with the reality of permanently sharing his body with the malicious ghost.
He’d gotten used to seeing King whenever he walked past the gargoyle statue, and to the woman in an old-timey hospital gown, who always ran away whenever he approached.
Even the silent Native American man who roamed the grounds around the house didn’t creep Elliot out anymore. It helped that most of the apparitions didn’t seek out any contact, though judging from the snippets of conversations only he could hear, he presumed it was Fane the other spirits didn’t want to associate with. Even in death, Fane was the most hated man around. Their presence became ordinary, and every now and then, Elliot would see a shadow disappear too quickly for anyone to notice.
But while Elliot was unconcerned about the ghosts, mirrors were a different story. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he first noticed the change, but since William Fane entered his body, the hard, reflective surfaces hadn’t been the same.
It started with a sound. A low, indistinct hum that turned into a noise reminiscent of gurgling when Elliot put his ear close enough. But that wasn’t all of it. The mirrors still showed Elliot his face when he looked into them, but there was something very off about them, as if instead of hard glass they were like the smooth surface in a bowl full of mercury. Despite no single ripple ever appearing on the smooth glass, he could not fight the sense of seeing faint movement somewhere inside the mirror, and there were moments when Elliot felt as if something alien could emerge from his reflection at any moment.
A part of him itched to check for himself whether it was yet another feature of the strange house, but he didn’t dare dip his finger into the glass, the same way he wasn’t complaining that he hadn’t met the demonic ‘master of the house’ despite occasionally sensing his presence.
Sometimes, Elliot felt eyes following him, or heard a gentle scratching against a smooth surface that had his back crawling with ants. Fortunately, Knight was always there to keep Elliot sane with distracting touch, silly games, and Mercier family trivia.
It was slowly getting dark when, with Knight’s arm resting on Elliot’s shoulders like a shield, Elliot visited several places around the clubhouse, chatting to Nao, Rev and his son, and briefly visiting a very frustrated Fox in the office. It was almost like making rounds, and instead of talking to his friends and leaving him be, Knight stubbornly kept trying to pull Elliot into the conversations.
It was new, but not exactly unwanted. Elliot wasn’t sure if it was some form of keeping him distracted, or if for some reason Knight… wanted them to like Elliot? He couldn’t deny that it felt good when he managed to make Rev laugh with his story about how he once tried to boil beans in a can.
But regardless of all the positive attention he was getting, Elliot couldn’t help the feeling that something was up when Knight casually passed him a third beer. Thinking of himself as Elliot’s keeper, he usually capped him at two after an infamous incident in the first week of Elliot’s stay when he almost broke his neck falling down the staircase after drinking too much.
The two of them eventually made their way out of the main building and walked through the snowy courtyard that could have easily housed two football fields. After Fane’s death, subsequent owners of the property added various extensions, with the last major development having transformed the country mansion into a horseshoe-shaped behemoth of a building with two long wings extending from what used to be Fane’s home and encompassing the empty space in the middle. The owners of the former asylum even added a little train station, which used to process staff and visitors coming in from Brecon.
The shuttle used to enter through a tunnel built into the east wing. Now disused, the empty gateway had been fenced off, but the barbed wire did nothing to stop cold wind from blowing through the passage. It was so cold Elliot needed to wrap an additional layer of the scarf Knight had gotten him around his neck to withstand the freezing gusts.
With Knight’s arm keeping Elliot’s shoulders warm, the short walk to the former station building, located in the courtyard and connected to a skybridge that provided easy communication between both wings of the building, wasn’t even that bad.
“I cannot believe human beings have stooped so low. This building is grotesque. Have we returned to more primitive times in terms of architecture?” Fane complained from behind Elliot’s back.
Elliot burst out laughing. “Primitive? You didn’t even know what a train was.” When Knight raised his eyebrows, he explained. “Fane’s complaining about the architecture agai—”
He slipped on a snow-covered step and his jaw would have hit the ground if Knight weren’t there to save him. He was always there to help. Elliot didn’t even care anymore that Knight wasn’t his and his alone if he could have him at his side. Or rather, he did care but wouldn’t do anything about it, because having even a chunk of Knight’s attention was better than nothing.
“Careful. Without you I won’t be able to hear any more of his inspiring comments,” Knight said, leading Elliot by the arm toward the gray building. The Kings of Hell had reused the former waiting rooms as a gym, and upon their approach Elliot spotted punch bags through the window.
“I cannot believe you would rather keep this brute’s company than mine. He would have been banished from proper society with those kinds of manners,” hissed Fane.
“I bet he wouldn’t have been banished from people’s beds.” Elliot laughed, holding on to Knight’s steady arm.
“So crude.” Fane shook his head.
Elliot looked up at Knight. “The man who raped over thirty young men is telling me I’m crude for saying you’re good in bed.”
“Well, we know who sucked in bed then,” Knight said and opened the steel door at the front.
Dull thuds reached their ears the moment they entered. The gym didn’t feature any fancy equipment, so it was mostly free weights, mats, and punch bags, with a treadmill and a stationary bicycle, but Elliot suspected the tiny cardio station was meant for the use of the female hangarounds. They closed the door behind them, and Knight led Elliot farther, past a room with lockers and benches.
Warmth hit his cheeks as soon as they left the cold outside, and he instantly started unwrapping the scarf.
“Try kicking higher, you’ll surprise your opponent,” Gray said, slowly circling Jake, who boxed one of the large punch bags. It must have been going on for a while now, since his bare chest shone with sweat.
Jake was a fine-looking guy, but like this—half-naked and with trim muscle glinting in the warm light of the lamp above—his physique made Elliot feel even smaller and les
s impressive. He almost wished he could excuse remaining in his jacket and scarf, but it was an impossibility in this kind of heat, so he followed Knight’s example and took off his outerwear.
Jake finally noticed them and grinned widely, hugging the punch bag. “Knight! You wanna join in?”
Knight shrugged. “Maybe. I was kinda hoping you guys could show Elliot a thing or two.”
Elliot froze, as if there was a spotlight pointing right at him, and he forgot his lines.
Jake scratched his head, his smile waning slightly. “I mean… is that his thing?”
Gray shrugged and in a quick, catlike move, pulled off the sporty black long-sleeve he had on. “I could assess him if he wants to.”
At the sight of another muscular chest Elliot took a step back. Gray wasn’t as big as Knight. Not even as big as Jake for that matter. His physique looked strong and lean like that of a dancer, but the veins on his arms and the chiseled stomach left Elliot to imagine that their strength would be nothing alike.
“I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Elliot muttered, but Fane shoved him forward at full force.
“Go on, you wimp. Learn some skills so I can use them when the time comes.”
Gray stretched, and the bandage on his arm reminded Elliot just how close he’d been to killing an innocent person because of Fane’s bloodlust. Fortunately, Gray had been briefed about the whole situation and didn’t seem to hold a grudge. Or, if he did, he was hiding it well for Knight’s sake.
“What do you want us to do?” Gray asked, gliding his gaze up and down Elliot’s lanky body, as if assessing every useless bit of him.
“I was thinking some basic self-defense. You’re better at that shit than I am,” Knight said, and Elliot could understand why. With Knight’s size, he didn’t need to resort to tricks and could easily overpower others with sheer physical strength. Gray on the other hand was much more Elliot’s #bodygoals. Elliot didn’t exactly hate the way he looked, especially now that he’d regained some weight, but he had always wondered how it would feel to put on some muscle. Still, this situation could be a humiliation in the making. And in front of Jake at that.
My Dark Knight (gay biker romance) (Kings of Hell MC Book 2) Page 31
