My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

Movement sent Knight’s scent his way, tonight made sharper with liquor and sweeter with some kind of cologne, but as Elliot braced himself for a jaw-breaking strike, no brutality came his way other than the insistent hold of the prospect’s fingers on his shoulder.

“I—I bought a ticket—” he tried weakly, but the prospect cut right into his sentence.

“The ticket’s for the concert. You can’t just sneak in wherever you want!”

“He did what?” The booming voice had Elliot opening his eyes despite the choking fear, just in time to see Beast storm toward him like a bull about to eviscerate him with its horns.

Knight’s hand was hot and firm when it clenched on Elliot’s jaw, forcing him to glance back into the man’s eyes, expressive and sharp despite the liquor on his breath. “What do you think you’re doing, huh? Didn’t I tell you to never come back here?”

“I would like to claim temporary insanity,” Elliot choked out.

One of the other biker burst into a manic laughter. “Christ! He doesn’t even have shoes.”

Beast towered over Elliot, and even Knight, when he stood right next to them. “You don’t have the right to claim shit! You’ve been warned, and still you come back?”

“I just wanted to see Fane’s house,” Elliot said in a tiny voice, looking pleadingly between the two men large enough to eat him whole for breakfast.

Knight’s nostrils widened as he took a slow, laborious breath before glancing up at Beast. “I’ll deal with this,” he said tightly.

Beast’s eyes narrowed, and he pushed his index finger against Elliot’s breastbone so hard he would have fallen back if it weren’t for the prospect holding him in place. “Make sure you teach him a lesson this time,” he said to Knight before nodding at the prospect. “Good job, Jake.”

Elliot hung his head in resignation when Knight let go of his jaw. What had he been thinking? That it would all be fine because he had a ticket? How come his brain became so clouded sometimes that it lost the ability to assess danger?

Knight grabbed him by the neckcloth and pulled as if it were a leash. “If you can’t listen, you’ll have to feel what it means to cross the Kings of Hell.”

Elliot followed because there was nothing left for him to do. He’d gotten so blinded by his need to somehow unite with William Fane that it erased his sense of self-preservation… He should have known this wouldn’t end well, since nothing ever ended well for him. Would he even survive the battering Knight was about to unleash on him? Even if, his body would remain one big bruise and prevent him from working for food and bills.

“Can you believe that guy?” He heard Beast growl to the others before Knight shut the door behind them.

Elliot’s chest clenched when he imagined Knight taking him back to the drunk crowd. He’d lead him onto the stage and unleash the punishment he promised, and the partiers would cheer, eating up Elliot’s humiliation like medieval spectators gathered at the pillory.

But instead of directing him to the large concert room, Knight pushed Elliot through a narrow door and down a flight of steps illuminated by a single lightbulb. The panic button in Elliot’s head was instantly activated, and he looked up at Knight with his eyes wide. At this point, in the labyrinth of corridors, he was way past dreams of dignity.

“Please don’t kill me.”

“Why not?” Knight asked, following Elliot down the narrow passage. He was so close his warm scent overpowered the damp aroma in the air, but with each step Elliot feared a push against his back. Without hands to protect himself from the fall, he’d stumble to the very bottom of the staircase, and the club could call his death an unfortunate incident.

“Because that wouldn’t be fair. I got in a bit over my head. I’ll just leave and never come again,” he said, even though he knew it would be difficult to resist the magnetic pull this place had on him.

“I don’t believe you. I shot at you, and you still came back like a hungry rat,” Knight said and reached to the lock in the door at the bottom. When he opened it, a whiff of cold air pushed into Elliot’s face. It was only when he stepped into the wet leaves that he remembered there were no shoes on his feet. He didn’t dare ask to get them back right now.

“I thought it was fine if I came to the concert!” Elliot looked around the area, and it seemed to be another back door. Two small paths led from it. One along the walls of the building, another dove into the darkness ahead, toward the menacingly rustling trees.

The moon was high up the sky tonight, framed by puffy, thick clouds. Knight pushed Elliot toward the woods. “Where’s your car?”