His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (24 page)

Grim took a deep breath and
pushed Misha’s face toward him again, completely focused despite the
post-coital laziness that melted into his muscles. “Why? Don’t say that. You
were there for what ... five years? I would have gone crazy. Maybe you didn’t
because you did find some positive things to focus on?”

Misha nodded, his eyes getting slightly
glossy. “I had to find things that would make me happy. And if I was good, he’d
get me new books, movies, something nice to eat. I think I’m angry that I
didn’t do more to spite him. But if he resented me, he could have given me back
to Zero …”

“Would he do that? Didn’t he ...
like you on some level?” asked Grim and pressed a slow kiss to Misha’s
forehead. He was by no means a good man, but it sickened him to think that
someone would treat his partner like this.

“I don’t know. I think he liked
my stumps more than me. He was just happy to have access to them.”

Grim scowled. Misha accused him
of the same thing at the beginning of their relationship. But was he like that?
Would he still be interested in Misha if he had no stumps? He had no way of
really knowing.

“I’m embarrassed I liked parts of
him, but I had to latch on to something. It was easier not to think of him as a
monster.” Misha let out a long sigh. “He’s gone now. Got what he deserved.”

Grim traced his fingers up and
down Misha’s chest. “What about me? Is this also Stockholm Syndrome?” he asked,
raising his gaze at Misha, with his stomach clenching as soon as their eyes
met.

Misha’s face got stone cold
serious. “No. I chose you. Not just because I’d have a hard time on my own.
Being with you is something completely different. It’s like having a
domesticated wolf. Sure, he can act out, because he’s a wolf, but he’s still
yours and will protect you.” He got all flustered the moment Grim squinted at
him. “Sorry, I don’t mean that you’re a dog …”

Grim snickered and kissed Misha
on the mouth, rolling partially on top of him and pushing his leg between
Misha’s thighs. “So you’re saying that you domesticated me? My boys would have
a good laugh.”

Misha moved his hands to Grim’s
nape. “Still a wolf.”

Grim looked at Misha with a
tenderness taking hold of his throat. “And a wolf will always protect his
bitch.”

Misha swallowed and pulled him
down for a kiss. “I shouldn’t like hearing that, but I do.”

“You’re not just a bitch. You’re
my
bitch. There’s a difference,” said Grim, playing with Misha’s lips.

Misha opened his mouth in
invitation and curled his legs around Grim’s thigh. And no matter how much of a
pain in the ass Misha could be sometimes, he was the embodiment of everything
Grim needed in a partner.

But something still lingered at
the back of Grim’s mind, even if the kiss was a welcome distraction. He nuzzled
Misha and cleared his throat. “That boy you told me about ... did they already
take him?”

Misha froze, but there was
nowhere he could go to avoid Grim’s eyes when he was under him. “I don’t know.
It wasn’t that long ago, and then the whole raid happened … I want to believe
he’s safe.”

Grim smiled and propped himself
over Misha. If they did nothing, Misha would keep agonizing over this until the
end of time, and that was the last thing Grim wanted. “Do you know how to
contact him?”

“Kind of. But I really don’t want
to go on the Internet. I bet they’re still hacked into his computer.” Misha
went silent for a while. “I do know where he lives though.”

“Where?”

“In Betsville. I remember the
exact address. I have … freakishly good memory. Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but
I do.”

“Where is that? What state?”
asked Grim, his mind going back to its normal function as soon as there was a
job to be done.

“Northern Ohio. Why?”

Grim sat up and looked at the
moon outside, a small smile spreading over his mouth. “We could get there
within a day. We should do that.”

“Warn him. Make sure he’s okay …
Apologize. I’d really like that. You’d do that for me?”

The look on Misha’s face and the
trust Grim could see there, made his mood even lighter. “Hell yes. Can’t have
you angsting for the rest of your life.”

“Thank you! It won’t be a long
visit. In and out.”

“In and out? That sounds kinky,”
said Grim, rolling back to lie next to Misha. He was sweaty, there was some cum
on his thighs, and bruises on his ribs, and he didn’t care at all.

Chapter 19 - Grim

The road to Betsville, Ohio was
long and uneventful, but Grim didn’t mind in the slightest. Misha spent most of
the time quietly solving a few dozen sudokus and chatting to him. At the back
of his mind, Grim knew Dennis would most probably be fine, but he still wanted
to check and warn the guy if necessary

They drove past a gas station
that didn’t seem to have much traffic at this time of day and then down the
road, following the instructions of Grim’s navigation system. With the sunlight
turning the asphalt dark orange, a lazy satisfaction filled Grim’s bones as he
put his arm over Misha’s shoulders and pulled him close. They had stayed in
Charleston for a few days, enjoying the benefits of having company for once,
and he was glad to see Misha warming up to strangers. He really did seem to
trust Grim’s judgment when it came to people so that was some kind of progress
considering how afraid he’d been of any stranger just weeks ago.

The weight of Misha’s declaration
was still fresh in Grim’s mind, and he found it hard not to smile whenever he
looked at his sweet, pretty boyfriend. Misha had been the first since Coy to
confess his love to Grim, but as much as Grim didn’t want to unfairly compare
the two, it felt as if Misha’s words were more sincere. They were both adults,
and the truth was that Misha was ready to love Grim despite the dark side he had
always hidden from Coy, out of fear of rejection.

And he would have been. Coy had
been too good of a person, too pure to accept the love of a true predator, even
if he himself were safe from Grim’s sharp teeth. Misha, on the other hand, was
ready to take Grim the way he was. He still smiled, whispered sweet words, and
sucked Grim’s cock, no matter how Grim earned a living or how he
liked
to earn a living for that matter. This was much more than Grim could have ever
hoped for.

Misha stroked Grim’s thigh with a
smile. “I’m sad I will have to disappoint him about the meeting I promised
him.”

“But didn’t he want to see you
anyway? That would be even better. His beloved porn star appears at his
doorstep!” said Grim, hugging Misha with one arm.

Misha tapped his fingers on
Grim’s jeans. “With a big bad boyfriend.”

Grim chewed on his lip, enjoying
the way Misha touched him almost all the time. Physical affection wasn’t something
he had received much of throughout his life. “Is he ... a devotee?”

Misha went silent for a moment.
“I think he’s a pretender. You know, likes to pretend being wheelchair-bound. I
think. He was excited to learn about how I do certain things without my lower
legs.”

Grim frowned. “What things?”

“How I reach something from a
higher shelf. If I can move on my knees, if I have phantom pains ... that kind
of thing.”

Grim always found this kind of
stuff strange, but who was he to judge? “Does this freak you out? That someone
wants to act as if he were disabled?”

Misha pouted and shrugged. “Not
really, no. It’s weird but harmless. Devotees can be much more dangerous in my
eyes. No offense.”

 “Yeah, some guys are a bit ...
stalkerish, I suppose. Good thing you ended up with such a fine man.”

Misha snorted. “Such a fine
specimen. And so modest too.”

Grim laughed and squeezed his
hand on Misha’s nape. “Sure, mock me, and we’ll see how you’re gonna sing once
I mount you again.”

Misha’s cheeks got a splash of
red, but it was now getting less visible with his skin sporting a tan. “It was …
intense.”

Grim massaged Misha’s back,
remembering how good it felt to be buried in Misha’s tight, pliant body only a
few days ago. Misha had moaned, shouted, and shuddered impaled on Grim’s cock,
and he would do so again soon enough. But not today. Grim didn’t want to hurt
him in the long run, and he was content with only getting to fuck Misha’s ass
once in a while, especially since he hadn’t even been sure if that would
ever
happen. Not everyone liked to be penetrated, even less so by a cock as enormous
as Grim’s, and he would not give up on someone as perfect as Misha because of
something so insignificant. It wasn’t the way Grim usually had sex anyway, and
he’d be content with just being able to do
all the other things
as long
as Misha stayed at his side.

“You still sore?”

“No, but I can still viscerally
recall the feeling.” Misha sent him an air kiss.

Grim laughed, but his attention
turned to the road when he noticed they were approaching their goal. Dennis
lived out of town, and the houses were a bit scattered here, but once he saw
the number at the front of a small bungalow without a garage, he drove into the
front yard and stopped the truck. “I think that’s the place.”

Despite this being a preventive
visit, Grim couldn’t help a chill going down his spine and his attention
sharpening. Just in case.

Misha took a deep breath. “Okay,
let’s do this.”

Grim jumped off the cab and onto
the white gravel. “Is he away? He’s bound to have a car here.”

“How am I supposed to know?”
Misha grumbled as he opened the door and sat sideways, waiting for Grim.

Grim raised his eyebrows at him
but let it go and pulled the wheelchair off the back of the truck, watching his
bike with longing. He needed to get Misha a car and get back on his ride, or
he’d eventually go crazy from being locked in a box, even in such fine company.
“I don’t know ... because you’re friends with him?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. And it’s
been what? Over a month now.” Misha looked at Grim with a small smile.

Grim couldn’t help but smile back
as he gently pulled Misha out of the seat and held him up for much longer than
was necessary. “A month. That went quick.”

“It’s a special power amputees
have. We can speed up and slow down time,” Misha said with a straight face and
pushed the wheels of his chair forward once he was sitting in it.

“Magical creatures. No wonder you
have all bewitched me,” said Grim, following Misha to the door. He put his hand
on one of his guns, but he wasn’t expecting any unwanted company without a car
around.

“And gay ones are even rarer.
Unicorns, right?” Misha was by the door, but stalled, as if he forgot how to
knock.

Grim gave his wheel a gentle
nudge with his foot. “Can’t you reach the bell?”

Misha sighed and took a few more
seconds but eventually pressed on the button, crossing his arms on his chest
once they heard a loud melody playing inside.

“Why are you so nervous? He’s not
gonna be dangerous with me here,” whispered Grim, snickering with pride.

“I know, it’s just … it connects
me back to the life with Gary and makes me uncomfortable. I’m about to meet
another person who’s seen me inside out. It’s embarrassing.”

“I really should show you those
movies I made. Then, there will be two of us,” said Grim and tousled Misha’s
hair, even though he wasn’t proud of his work in porn. He hadn’t been that
good, and he’d had trouble staying hard with everyone watching. He’d rather go
back to breaking into homes than to the film set.

“Maybe you should.” Misha smirked
and rang the doorbell again, for longer this time.

An uneasiness settled in Grim’s
stomach. “Did he say where he works?”

“He told me he works from home.”
Misha looked up at Grim and rang the doorbell a few more times.

“It’s kind of late,” said Grim,
looking at his watch. It was almost eight pm. When his gaze rolled toward the
road, he noticed the mailbox and walked toward it in quick strides. He didn’t
even have to open it to see how full it was, and his stomach twisted as he
pulled back the flap and emptied the box of a whole stack of letters.

Misha’s face went pale, and he
wouldn’t say a word. He entwined his fingers in his lap and cracked his
knuckles.

Grim looked through the post, but
hope didn’t die in him until he saw a notice with a date that was dated three
weeks back.

“Fuck,” he muttered, suddenly
feeling like a shell. He didn’t want to look at Misha, but the ragged breath
close by reminded him that Misha was there, waiting for answers Grim couldn’t
provide.

“Look ... maybe he’s on
vacation,” said Grim, even though he didn’t really believe that. This was a
fucking nightmare. Misha would never forgive himself if those fuckers took
someone because of him.

“He didn’t have enough money to
go anywhere. This trip to meet me was supposed to be his first vacation in
three years.” Misha’s voice got a higher pitch, and Grim brought himself to
look at him.

“Do you have his phone number?
E-mail?”

He was feeling sick from just
thinking about this. And while he couldn’t blame Misha for wanting to save
himself, he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t care about what possibly had happened
to Dennis. Another boy would get mutilated. The same way Misha had and that
girl from the Louisiana chapter.

Misha dictated both the phone
number and the e-mail to Grim. He really had a freakishly good memory. Grim
pushed the mail back where he found it and listened to the beeping in his cell
phone as his stomach turned with anger. He was no knight in shining armor, but
cutting people’s limbs off made him have visceral reactions, which he couldn’t
stop.

“He’ll die,” Misha whispered.
“And I pulled him in.”

Grim swore and rubbed his
forehead, finally dropping the call. Misha was right. No one would be picking
it up. He folded his arms and looked at Misha, unsure what to say. It was over.
Zero, and the boy for that matter, could be anywhere.

“He will cut him up …” Misha’s
voice was high-pitched and dull as he ran his fingers over the door.

Grim looked down at him, knowing
he needed to sober up and help Misha forget. Those things happened sometimes.
They came here too late. Just like he had been too late to save Misha. To save
Coy. “You don’t know that. Maybe they need him for something else.”

“Yeah, like rape,” Misha hissed
and clenched his fists, so small in the wheelchair despite his well-defined
arms.

Grim sucked in both his lips and
kicked a darker piece of gravel against the wall. “There’s nothing we can do
now. Maybe the police will raid them eventually,” he said, even though it was
all wishful thinking.

Misha licked his lips, and the
silence extended into what felt like eternity. “Can you break into this house?”
he asked in the end.

Grim frowned and looked back at
the door. “You think he’s in there?”

“No, but maybe I can look at his
computer and figure something out.”

Grim’s arms relaxed, and it was
as if adrenaline fueled his bloodstream again. “Right, you’re a hacker,” he
said and quickly approached the door, pulling out his own version of the Swiss Army
knife. Breaking in didn’t even take a minute. Houses in the countryside tended
to be easy prey with their simple locks and all too much trust put in
strangers.

“A lot of what I know should
still be valid. I remember how I hacked into their system, I just … hoped I
wouldn’t have to use that knowledge.”

Grim looked back at Misha, a bit
conflicted about all this, knowing Misha would be reliving this day over and
over. But on the other hand, if they didn’t try, Misha would never forgive
himself. Or him for that matter. Grim knew a thing or two about regret, and
he’d do a lot to save Misha the pain.

He pushed open the door and
winced at the stale scent of dust and rotten produce. This wasn’t the house of
someone who went on vacation. A notebook and some pieces of paper were
scattered over the floor, and as they moved in farther, a whole array of pens
littered the carpet, next to a fallen cup.

“Shit,” muttered Grim and stopped
Misha before he could wheel inside. “No fingerprints.”

Misha nodded and reached back to
his bag to pull out the gloves Grim had bought him for the visit at
Pat-the-homophobe’s house. “Did you leave fingerprints on the letters?” Misha
asked and wheeled down the corridor.

Grim massaged his nose.
“Probably, but those came after Dennis went missing,” he said, following Misha
inside and donning his gloves as well.

The stench of food came from the
large room on the left side, and the landscape inside the house screamed of
struggle with chairs fallen to the wooden floor and large spots of dried fluid
on the panels. There was a plate of food on the coffee table, now covered by
grey and white fuzz.

“I found his computer,” Misha
said from afar, and selfishly, a part of Grim wished they hadn’t come here to
check on Dennis. Misha wouldn’t have to face the horror of what he’d been
through yet again. It was Grim’s fault. He’d been the one to plant this idea in
Misha’s head, and now they would both be dealing with the consequences. He
walked past an open bedroom with a tidily made double bed and went straight
into the open doorway of what looked like a home office. He stopped in his
tracks when he spotted a wheelchair in the corner. Must have been Dennis’s.

Misha glanced at Grim over his
shoulder and pulled his hair back into a short ponytail. He pulled out the
keyboard from underneath the desktop and turned on the computer, watching the
screen in silence. Once the sign-in form appeared on the screen, he typed
something in and logged in after a few attempts.