My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

“I’m not sure you’re being honest. I can’t trust you for shit after that stunt you pulled at visitation,” Martin said, roughly forcing Elliot to bend over the table, which in turn sent all the cosmetics flying.

Elliot’s legs turned soft when he half-expected Martin to pull down his pants, but instead something rough squeezed around his neck. It took him a full second to realize it was a worn leather belt, which tightened around his throat at an alarming rate.

He tried to grab it, slid his fingers under the strap to loosen it, but it was no use, and his vision was already getting blurry, his lungs stinging with the prickle of invisible needles. If he’d only had the guts to get rid of his father himself, this wouldn’t have been his end.

Brute force yanked him by the impromptu leash and sent his world into a spin, but instead of flattening against Martin’s powerful chest, Elliot slid off the table and spiralled to the floor. His head smashed against the laminate, and without pressure applied to it, the belt finally loosened around Elliot’s neck, letting him breathe. Once darkness lifted off his vision, he was stunned to see two bodies stumbling against his kitchenette with such force the wonky doors of the upper cupboard fell off.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, still dizzy from the strangling, but cold air was rushing into the trailer through the open door, and his hazy brain was slowly processing the sight.

Knight came. He responded to the message.

Knight’s body was smaller than Martin’s overall, but he knew how to use it to his advantage. With his face flushed and eyes sharp as blades, he pulled Martin back, hissing curse words through his teeth. He managed to move Martin all the way to the bedroom area, when Martin freed his arm and repeatedly jammed his elbow into Knight’s stomach.

Knight’s thick hair covered his face as he folded in two, but just when Elliot thought all hope was lost, Knight grabbed Martin by the balls so hard they might have cracked open. Martin’s shriek tore through the trailer, and Knight pushed his opponent to the floor, landing on him with a vicious sneer. Fists crashed against Martin’s head over and over, and the blows must have confused him enough to keep him from efficiently defending himself. It was as if he’d lost steam, covering himself rather than punching back.

Seconds ago, Elliot had been calculating how to help without getting in the way but now he sat there on the dirty floor among shards of glass and watched in amazement as Knight unleashed on Martin what he hadn’t been willing to do to Elliot. Every punch was followed by a grunt from Martin, and the way Knight bared his teeth in fury reminded Elliot of the vicious Rottweiler at the Kings of Hell clubhouse.

Martin didn’t stand a chance against the much more proficient fighter despite having the advantage of size. Another punch from Knight’s powerful fist sent Martin’s skull against the floor, and that was that. He went limp under Knight who stared down at him, breathing hard and still ready to put his hands to use.

It was only when Martin remained completely still that Knight glanced at Elliot in a way that made his insides flutter. Their gazes locked for what felt like an eternity, and Elliot hoped the moment would never pass until Knight quickly got up and pulled on Martin’s leg just in time for the first signs that his opponent might be waking up.

Unceremoniously, Knight jumped out of the trailer and hauled the mountainous body behind him, as if it were a sack of potatoes. Something inside Elliot flared with heat, and he gaped at the door, listening to muted threats before Knight walked back in in a storm of wild hair.

He was heaving and grabbed himself the beer Elliot had earlier put on the counter.

When their eyes met once more, Elliot couldn’t find his voice.

Chapter 6

The guy looked twenty at most. Thin and long-limbed, he watched Knight from underneath a countertop where he sat in a puddle of clear liquid that smelled like aged piss. Shards of glass were everywhere, and some had cut into the guy’s pale flesh as he fought the enormous man who was now gathering his teeth off the ground outside. Judging by the belt still looped around the slender throat and the stranger’s sickly pallor, Knight must have entered the trailer just seconds before the damage done by the choking would have been irreversible.

Knight took a deep breath and cooled himself with a can of beer grabbed from the counter before he noticed an angry bruise forming in the middle of the stranger’s forehead, beneath sweaty strands of dark hair.

The guy’s full lips were parted, and he stared at Knight with large eyes reminiscent of lacquered coal, so dark against the background of pale skin. His angular features, with pronounced cheekbones and a sharp jawline made Knight reassess the guy’s age, despite making his eyes seem so big in contrast. The young man stood up, wobbling as if he were about to faint, but he was so tall Knight changed his estimate to around twenty-one years old.