Road of No Return (gay outlaw biker MC romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  “Will you go with me, help me get all my stuff? I didn’t want to just assume you’d want to live with me.” Stitch gently kissed Zak’s neck. “She said I’m disgusting, but I tried to be something else than I am, and I can’t do it.”

  Zak pressed closer to him and slid his hands to the sides of Stitch’s face, making their eyes meet. “You are not disgusting. You are a real man. You are beautiful. Don’t ever forget that,” he whispered, holding onto Stitch’s jaw.

  Stitch chuckled, trying to look away. “Me? ‘Beautiful’? Like in that Christina Aguilera song?”

  Zak groaned, hitting his forehead against Stitch’s. “No, not like that. Just beautiful. I look at you, and the first thing I think of is how handsome you are.”

  Those words did force a smile to Stitch’s face. “Is my cock ‘beautiful’ too?” he teased, tracing his fingers over Zak’s back. Stitch always knew how to turn him into butter.

  Zak snorted and nuzzled Stitch’s nose, suddenly calmer now that he’d squeezed a smile out of his lover. “Of course. I munched it down the moment we were alone, don’t you remember anymore?”

  “Yeah, you were really hungry for it.” Stitch bowed to give him a kiss, but even though his words sounded dirty, his lips were nothing but sweet and tender.

  Zak took a sharp breath and stepped forward so that they were chest to chest. He inhaled Stitch’s warm breath, gently suckling on his lip. “I am always hungry for you.”

  “Let’s get my stuff and have that over with, huh?” Stitch slid his hands to Zak’s buttocks and gave them a firm squeeze.

  Zak curled his toes and nodded, slowly withdrawing. If they had to go, they needed to do it now. “At your service.”

  *

  They drove out as soon as they’d put all the food into place and out of Versay’s reach. Zak was tense all the way to Stitch’s former home, but he was putting up a brave face for his sake. They would get this shit done. Zak parked the car with the trunk facing the door and gave Stitch an encouraging smile as he was entering. The lights were on in the living room and Zak found himself wondering what Stitch’s former house looked like. It was nice from the outside. Old, but clearly cared for.

  Stitch came out with his first round of bags, but Zak could already hear a high-pitched female voice following him all the way to the door.

  “Don’t forget anything, because I want none of your shit here!”

  Zak moved closer to the porch. “Maybe I should just go in with you? We’ll be quicker this way,” he said, wishing he could screw his ears shut.

  Stitch stuck the bags in the trunk and nodded. “Yeah, let’s just do it and leave.” He went back in quickly. “I got it the first time, for fuck’s sake! Shut your mouth and let me pack!” he yelled.

  Zak rolled his eyes and rushed in behind him, stealing brief glances at the rooms on both sides of the corridor. It was a simple home, but just as well maintained as the outer walls. With Stitch’s inclination to handiwork, he imagined why that was.

  But as he turned into one of the rooms on Stitch’s heel, the female voice got louder and he almost walked into a petite redhead with tattoos all over her arms and neckline. Her eyes widened, and she stepped back.

  “Is this him?” she shouted, waving her hand in front of Zak’s chest. “I can’t believe you would bring your man-tart here!”

  Stitch ran back down the stairs making half the house tremble. “Give it a rest, Crystal. Zak just came here to help me take my stuff!”

  Zak blinked, staring at her. “I’m Zak, you must have confused me with someone else,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “Oh, yeah?” She sneered at him and cocked her head to the side, her hands firmly resting on her hips. “You think I’m stupid, Zak? Or should I call you the way Stitch put you in his cell phone? ‘Sexy tattoo Zak’.”

  “Shut up, Crystal!” Stitch yelled at her and came between them, only to get punched in the arm with her tiny fist.

  “I am not the reason for your divorce, so I don’t see why you're trying to insult me,” said Zak, trying to keep his cool. If he was to help Stitch start seeing his daughter again, he needed to make Crystal see him in a positive light.

  But things took an instant turn downhill when Holly started crying upstairs.

  “See what you did?” Stitch hissed at Crystal, who clenched her fists.

  “Me? I’m not the one breaking up the family because I’m a deviant!”

  Zak squeezed his teeth tightly. “Weren’t you the one who cheated on him? He and I only met on the day of your divorce,” he uttered, bumping his fist against the wall.

  Her eyes went wide. “Who the fuck are you to lecture me on my marriage?” She turned to Stitch. “So now you tell your new boy-toy everything? Watching too much Gossip Girl since you turned gay?” she hissed so much venom Zak could hardly believe how it fit into her little body.

  “Don’t call him that! And he’s right that it was you who cheated—” Stitch started, but Crystal interrupted him.

  “And I’m glad I did because otherwise I’d be stuck with a monk of a husband forever!”

  “You have a crying child upstairs. We’ll just gather his things and go, all right?” Zak decided to ignore the boy-toy comment. She was the one to talk, only about two thirds of his height. He looked to Stitch for directions.

  “Exactly!” Stitch said through gritted teeth and pointed Zak to the stairs. “I’ll take care of Holly if you need a breather,” he said to Crystal as they started walking toward the stairs.

  Crystal pulled his sleeve. “Don’t you dare go to her. I’ll go.”

  Zak ignored the commotion, nearing the high-pitched sobbing. This was such a disaster. At least he knew where to go, as Stitch’s room was the only one that had an open door. He gathered two large boxes and started carefully climbing down the stairs.

  He heard some more screaming, door slamming, something breaking, cries of a little girl. It sounded like the worst fight ever, but at least he wasn’t involved in it anymore. He was happy to see though that as mean as Crystal was, and as horrible the verbal fighting got, Stitch never hit her back. Cox knew shit.

  Zak was calmly walking up and down the stairs, filling up first the trunk, and then the back seat, while the fight was still going on. As much as he sympathized with Crystal, he couldn’t help but detest her behavior. Stitch had been faithful to her all this time, he didn’t seek out guys to hook up with. He didn’t deserve half of the stuff she was throwing his way.

  Seeing that he was done taking out Stitch’s things, he decided to break the two bulldogs apart and followed the barking all the way into a tidy kitchen.

  He frowned at the sight of shattered cups, and a broken bag of flour on the floor. At least the little girl wasn’t crying upstairs anymore, but who knew, maybe her throat got too sore?

  “Why the fuck would you do that?” Stitch hissed at her, but looked to Zak when he came in.

  Zak sighed and stuffed his hands down his pockets. “Done,” he said, looking between them with a frown. He didn’t want to ask about the mess.

  Crystal panted like a hungry bear. “Go, Stitch. Fuck his ‘juicy ass’ for all I care. There, free as a bird!”

  Zak dragged his hand down his face, wishing this were over already.

  “Fuck you! Don’t come crying to me when Milton acts like a cunt again!” Stitch gesticulated wildly, all red on the face, but at least he instantly rushed to Zak. They were making their way toward the exit when Zak heard a thud. He turned around to see that Stitch got hit on the head with the bag of flour and had the white powder all over himself. He didn’t lash out though, just showed Crystal the finger and tagged along.

  Zak was happy the upholstery of his car was made of leather. It would make mopping up that flour so much easier, but he was even happier when he pulled out of Crystal’s yard and drove home. The silence in the car was almost tangible.

  “What a mess,” Zak uttered in the end, glancing at Stitch.

  “I’m sorry I
dragged you into it. I didn’t know she’d go crazy again,” Stitch groaned and bumped his head against the window. “Thanks for the help. I’d be stuck there forever without you.”

  Zak snorted. “Yeah, I know.” He stared at the road, pondering whether to have the talk now that Stitch couldn’t leave, or wait. He decided on the former. “I spoke with Cox today.”

  The car went silent like a coffin on wheels. Stitch scowled. “The fuck did he want?” he muttered in the end.

  Zak shrugged. “I told him slicing your tires was a dick move, and that I won’t be seeing him anymore,” he said, looking straight ahead while his heart picked up its pace so much he felt it pulse in his throat.

  Stitch took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around his chest. “Good.”

  Zak bit his lip and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Is your club involved in criminal activities?”

  “Huh? What did that shithead tell you?”

  Zak groaned. “That you were in prison for assault, and that you and your friends are handling stolen goods and illegal weapons.” He bit his lip and shook his head. “You were so beaten up last night. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Stitch ran his fingers through his hair. “Why do you want to know?”

  Zak slapped the steering wheel, his arms getting rigid. “Oh, fuck. You are a criminal...”

  “That’s not fair. We just don’t always do things by the book.” The look on Stitch’s face told Zak that his new cohabitant was dying to be home.

  “We’re a couple, you’re moving in with me. Don’t you think I should know what’s going on in your life?” He shook his head in helplessness. He should have known this from the start, before he got so fond of Stitch.

  “I take care of my stuff. You won’t get involved, so don’t worry.” Stitch’s fingers climbed to Zak’s thigh.

  “Stitch, stop fucking trying to distract me, and tell me the truth,” growled Zak. “Is that all true?” He asked, boiling up inside like a sealed pot on high heat.

  “So I was to prison, yeah. Jeez. You don’t tell me everything about your past. What made you come to Lake Valley, for example. You don’t know anyone here. Why didn’t you sell the house?” He never stopped tapping his fingers on Zak’s leg though.

  Zak swallowed, feeling his stomach squeeze. “I’ll tell you if you tell me if you’re still involved in some shit.”

  Stitch was silent for a while, his frown deepening. “I am involved in shit, okay?”

  “I know that much already.” Zak shook his head, increasingly nervous. “What is it exactly? Drugs? Guns? Human trafficking?” he uttered in distaste.

  “You make it sound like I’m some mafia boss. It’s low profile stuff. We take stuff places, sell it on. And no, it’s not human trafficking.” Stitch pulled his fingers away.

  Zak sighed, stiffening his elbows. “I just... don’t want you to be hurt or end up in jail. At this point, whatever happens to you will hit me too.”

  “I’m trying to keep it contained.” Stitch pondered on something for a while, but when he spoke again it was in a quieter and steady voice. “I told you that I lost a lot of cash yesterday. What happened was a real shock to the system. I don’t think shit like that is for me. But I need to get the money back before I can try and work out something new.”

  Zak exhaled and before he knew it, his hand was on Stitch’s, squeezing it tight. That was a good sign, Stitch wanted change. “How much? Is it like, a million? Hundred thousand?” he uttered, hoping Stitch wouldn’t put himself into an even bigger risk.

  “Ten grand,” Stitch muttered and didn’t look Zak’s way but squeezed his hand back.

  Zak relaxed, taking a turn toward his home. That was all right. It was a large sum of money but manageable. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

  “But it’s not your responsibility, yeah?” Stitch looked like he was doing a silent prayer when he saw Zak’s house.

  “It’s not, as long as you don’t do anything reckless to get that money back,” whispered Zak as he parked the car.

  “So what’s your story?” Stitch nudged Zak’s side before getting out.

  Zak sighed and rested his forehead against the steering wheel before leaving the car. He gestured for Stitch to follow him home. There was nothing in those boxes that couldn’t wait in the vehicle.

  “I’m not trying to sell the house because the economy’s terrible for that now.”

  “But you left your old home.” Stitch put an arm over Zak’s shoulders as soon as they walked into the house.

  Versay rushed from his bed in the kitchen and circled them with a wide smile, accepting the gentle petting.

  Zak shrugged, not sure whether he was ready to talk about it. Even to him, the situation was silly. “I was betrayed by someone I trusted, and I guess I just took the opportunity to leave.”

  “What do you mean by ‘betrayed’?” Stitch pulled Zak along to the living room and they cuddled up on the couch.

  Zak sighed and sat cross-legged, leaning into Stitch. He chewed on his bottom lip and held on to Stitch’s hand, which made him feel warm and safe. “I was the co-owner of a tattoo studio. The other guy, my partner, had started it but he wasn’t doing well. I guess he isn’t that good of an artist either, but I talked to him, and he promised me fifty percent if I could help him make the studio work, even though on paper I only got thirty. He wanted to keep control of the business, and I got that because he didn’t know me yet.” Zak inhaled some air, playing with the numerous signets on Stitch’s thick, strong fingers. “He kept his word and we were splitting the money fifty-fifty. At this point, he was the closest thing I ever had to a boyfriend, so I trusted him,” he said with a shake of his head. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like such a bad idea. All of them, actually, from dating your co-worker to not pressing on the changes in the contract.

  “I can see how this story goes,” Stitch said, but there was no mocking in his tone, just compassion, and he kissed Zak’s temple. The gesture was so tender Zak actually had to wait for his voice to return to normal before he could speak further.

  “Yeah, at some point he got greedy and told me that there is no reason for me to get that much money, that he was the one who created the studio. And you know, I helped him hire all the artists he now has, to make the studio known. I worked so hard for it.” He shrugged, his face turning into a scowl. “I couldn’t stay there. Neither with the studio, nor in his bed, you know.” Slowly, he turned his head to look at Stitch.

  “So you thought to make it on your own here in Lake Valley?” Stitch stroked Zak’s hair, embracing him with his wide arms. Zak immediately turned around to face him, curling his legs against Stitch’s side.

  “I thought I could get some rest from all this bullshit and work from home at the same time, but now... I don’t know,” he whispered, slowly resting his head on the wide chest. Even now Stitch smelled of wood chips.

  “No? You seem to be settling in well.” Stitch gave him a kiss.

  Zak sighed and picked on Stitch’s cut with a small smile. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d stay this long. It’s all on you.”

  “Yeah? I’m anchoring you here?” Stitch nuzzled his neck. “I hope you stay so, you know, I have a place to live.” He nipped on Zak’s bruised skin.

  Zak snorted. “Men, always using me.” He didn’t really mean that, but his dark humor got the best of him.

  “You love to be used by me.” Stitch murmured into Zak’s collarbone.

  Zak closed his thighs and pushed his fingers into Stitch’s mane, getting flour all over his hands. “I know, you make me so helpless when you kiss me.”

  “I’ll remember that for the future, thanks.” Stitch chuckled. His stubble scraped Zak’s skin as he let his lips explore.

  Never breaking the close contact, Zak climbed into Stitch’s lap, straddled him, and let his head fall back, accepting the sweet kisses all over the skin.

  “You’ll stay with me here, won’t you?” Stitch murmured and
slid his hands to Zak’s ass. It was so good that Zak’s balls tightened at the contact, and he pushed his body closer to Stitch.

  “Yeah.”

  Stitch pulled up Zak’s hand to his lips and kissed its knuckles. Without a word, he took off one of his signets and slid the heavy thing on Zak’s thumb.

  Zak stared at it, hardly breathing, his mind still frozen on the moment when Stitch’s lips touched the back of his hand in a gesture that spoke of devotion. The metal on his finger was still warm from its former host. Zak exhaled, looking at the hammer adorning the ring, his heart already rushing, pulling him deeper into Stitch’s body, but he resisted and looked at his lover instead.

  Stitch pointed to the little runes around the heavy signet. “It’s Mjölnir. And the runes around are for protection. My granddad gave it to me.”

  Zak bit his lip, his mind going astray just as his pulse quickened even more. “I... but it’s important to you.”

  “You’re important to me,” Stitch said with a smile, sliding his fingers under Zak’s T-shirt. Their rough skin was the sweetest kind of touch Zak could imagine, and he hugged Stitch closer, brushing the ring over his lover’s jaw over and over again. He wasn’t sure what it all meant so he abruptly kissed Stitch’s mouth, robbing them both of breath.

  “I... why the ring?” he whispered, closing his eyes.

  Stitch grinned into Zak’s lips. “My name is Thor. And I gave you my hammer. Does that sound dirty?”

  Zak laughed out loud. “Super dirty. Is that a sign that you’re the only one allowed to hammer me, or something?” He brushed his hand over Stitch’s face and kissed him again, slowly calming down even though the warm metal seemed to burn his finger. “And you never even told me what your name is, you jerk.”

  “I just told you. Thor. Blame my Norwegian parents. And yes, I am the only one allowed to hammer you.” Stitch started a languid move of his hips under Zak while looking into his eyes.

  Zak let out a laugh. Even the sensuous grinding between his legs couldn’t distract him from what he had just heard. “You’re serious? Oh, my God, you’re actually called Thor?” He felt so light he could fly up to the ceiling, still clinging to Stitch with his thighs.