The chilly corridor made Elliot’s skin break out in goose bumps, since he’d left his fucking T-shirt at Knight’s in a meaningless display of pride. Was he really not worth a glimmer of affection? Hadn’t Knight proved that he was by saving his life? Elliot couldn’t even blame the breakup on Jake’s cocksucking lips, as it was Knight who said he didn’t care for monogamy. Clearly in Knight’s mind the disastrous fight wasn’t even a breakup, because they hadn’t been a couple.
How pathetic was that? When Elliot was settling into his role of boyfriend, all along, Knight had considered him a charity case. A guy to feed and clothe. Never in his life had Elliot felt this humiliated.
Elliot put his jacket—the same one Knight had gotten for him because he didn’t want the guy he fucked to be cold in winter—over his freezing skin and leaned against the wall with his teeth clattering. In the darkness peeking into the clubhouse through the single-glazed windows one could believe it was the middle of the night, not the afternoon, and when the black silhouettes of trees moved with the wind, a chill went all the way down Elliot’s spine, as if he were alone in the woods and there was a pack of wolves after him.
He was now twenty-five, and since the day he was born he’d never managed to attract another person’s love. Not his father’s. Not his mother’s. Not Martin’s. And most definitely not Knight’s. He was always the one who put so much work into each new relationship, always the one with hope and the one to have his heart crushed and tossed away like a wasted piece of ink-stained paper. A pathetic man who no one wanted to keep.
The faint echo of a Christmas carol drummed down the corridor. He could see the twinkle of colorful light coming from one of the common rooms where the bikers and their friends gathered, but he knew his presence wasn’t desired. Everyone tolerated him only because the VP brought him here, and they would all turn their backs on him the moment they realized Knight didn’t care for him anymore. Jake would laugh in his face, and Beast would show Elliot the door.
His trailer wasn’t a place worth going back to in the middle of winter, especially since the one person Elliot still thought was worth living for was in this building.
It wasn’t Knight.
Under his feet, were the hidden rooms he’d uncovered with Knight. Something to be proud of, something to investigate, something that could make him matter to the world.
On shaky legs he pulled himself away from the wall and started walking toward the stairs at the end of the long, dusty corridor. The building was so vast, walking through it felt like stepping through the innards of a long-dead monster, full of dust and cobwebs, some of its parts rotting, others reused to become something else.
Every step down Elliot’s new path was a step farther away from Knight, and the pull to go back and grovel, promise that he’d be fine with being just fuckbuddies, was so strong Elliot had to start running to fight it. It would not be fine. His heart was already in tatters and bleeding all over the floor. He wouldn’t give any more to a man who didn’t want it.
But when he reached the corridor that could lead him to his forgotten, empty room, he didn’t even think twice before turning toward the gargoyle sculpture, toward the secret rooms where the one person for whom he could become everything dwelled.
He slowed down as he approached the old hall, and it almost felt like someone was calling out his name and reminding him of the promise he’d given Knight. But if Knight had no qualms about stepping over Elliot’s heart, then Elliot might as well spit in the face of all promises.
In the bluish light coming through the windows high up on the wall, the gruesome statue seemed to have grown, its carved muscles tense as if the stone could break at any moment, revealing monstrous flesh. The horns on the beast’s head pointed up the staircase, toward Knight’s apartment.
But Elliot would be going in the other direction. With tears still streaming down his face, he didn’t even care to wipe them anymore, finding some solace in the way they cooled on his skin in streaks. He pressed the wooden tulip, and the cellar opened up to him.
What William Fane had always wanted was a man of his own, and what Elliot craved was to become the apple of someone’s eye, no matter the cost. To for once belong to someone who truly wanted him.
He turned on his flashlight and walked into the cool abyss. Even now, after talking to the ghost several times, he was somewhat spooked, especially that he’d never come here on his own. But it was time to leave his fear behind and embrace the darkness of William’s soul.