Gray's Shadow (Kings of Hell MC 4)

It sounded overly dramatic for a week of solitary confinement that had included visitors and burgers, but it seemed Shadow was a herd animal, and even the short punishment had a deep impact on him. Maybe he really was lost and in need of guidance, like a dog everyone found vicious but which was actually just scared. A bit of attention could go a long way, so instead of leaving Shadow to shampoo his own hair, Gray stayed.

He guided Shadow’s head down into the water and supported his nape with one hand while working the other through the soapy strands until they were soft. “If you stick to the rules, you can stay with me.”

Shadow glanced at him, still mostly submerged in the white liquid that covered everything but his face, pecs, and knees. He took his time but eventually nodded. “I will. I promise. You said to not touch you or anyone else, and I try to do just that. Unless you’re in danger. I had to ignore it when those men came. You do understand that, right?”

There was a raw intensity in the way he spoke, as if his chest were wide open and he wanted to show Gray his beating heart. Everyone had secrets and agendas, and in Gray’s experience certain things should remain hidden even from his own club brothers.

The Kings of Hell were all about freedom of expression, but the other bikers were still uneasy about one of them being a bottom. Jake had gone through a lighter version of what Gray had had to put up with when he finally understood what his needs were. As dedicated as the club was to letting all its members do their own thing, being dominant and masculine in the traditional way was still the default, and Gray failed to meet some of the criteria.

Introverted and picky about partners, Gray had faced negative feedback for what had come naturally to him from a young age. The club was his family, but there were rules to how people related to one another, and feelings weren’t discussed openly when sober. The only person Gray was able to be truly himself with had been Mike. His brother had never judged him and always tried to understand.

But Shadow was as open as a boy before he had been first been told to ‘man up’. He would form words in his heart and offer them to Gray as if it was the most obvious thing to do. His new, unusual life existed beyond the gender norms that informed a lot of the actions men chose. Despite his inhuman power, Shadow didn’t posture or show off, nor was he embarrassed to express his fears or insecurities.

Was this what being truly free would have been?

Gray rubbed the dark scruff on Shadow’s face with the back of his hand and had to keep secret the shiver that ran all the way down to his feet, like fire following the trail of gunpowder. The facial hair scratched him in a way that instantly took him back to the last time he’d had sex, and the scruff on Pete’s chin had rubbed his neck. There was something about the sensation of touching stubbly skin that made all of Gray’s senses overload.

The short beard needed to go.

“I-ah… I wanted to thank you. For the arm. And for saving me, but you need to be careful so that no one gets hurt by accident,” he said, briefly standing to grab the shaving foam and a fresh safety razor from the cupboard.

Shadow eyed the latter and inched closer to the back of the tub, away from Gray. It had to be the memory of the knife that got him so nervous—yet another reminder that despite being physically hurt, Shadow hadn’t retaliated. Whatever ‘being close’ meant to him, he hadn’t intended to assault Gray.

“But… hm. You brought five men down back on the train. How do I choose who to hurt?” he asked, with a twist to his lips.

It was a tricky question, but Gray needed to deal with it nevertheless. “If someone tries to hurt you first or wants bad things to happen to you, then you can hurt them in defence. But you should never attack friends. Honestly, it will be best if you follow my lead. Come closer,” he said, spraying some of the gel onto his open palm.

Shadow hesitated, his mouth pressing into a line as he watched the small blade glinting in its plastic frame, but he fought through his apprehension and allowed Gray to rub the gel onto his face. “You said I have no friends,” he said, moving his plump lips against Gray’s wrist. It felt like featherlight kisses, and Gray briefly pulled away, afraid his resolve to not sexualize Shadow was fraying at the hem.