Sex & Mayhem 01 Road of No Return (34 page)

Oh, for God’s sake.
Zak turned his head toward Cox, knowing there was no point to hide his injuries now that they have been spotted. “What? Why would he do that? Of course not.”

“Maybe because he’s been out of your house for the past week?” Cox held out his hand to hold Zak’s chin for inspection.

“That’s because we broke up,” said Zak, pulling away from the touch. “Listen, I’m fine. Let’s not talk about him.”

“No, let’s talk about him. I can’t believe this motherfucker would do this to you. You need to get that photographed and signed off by a doctor, and press charges. Come with me to the station.” Cox was breathing hard and watching Zak with a manic expression.

“No.” Zak drew in a sharp breath, surprised by the outburst. “It wasn’t him. Can I get my speeding ticket and go home?”

“You’re going to let that scumbag walk all over you like this? You know what?” Cox pulled out his booklet for tickets, but never even opened it. “I am done watching him assault and torment a nice guy like you. I don’t care if he outs me in retaliation. I am going to put his gay ass in prison, and you can thank me later.” Cox's fingers squeezed on the booklet so hard that Zak heard a crack in the finger joints. With a harsh bang to the roof of the car, Cox walked off back to his car.

Zak blinked and leaned out despite the painful pull in his back. “Are you sick in the head? I fucking told you it wasn’t him!”

Cox got into his car and slowed down as he passed Zak. “I’ll deal with this, Zak,” he said with a serious expression and didn’t wait for an answer before speeding up.

Zak stared at the lights of the police car disappearing in the darkness, a hot urgency burning in his chest. He reached out to the passenger seat where he’d put his cell phone and fumbled with it to find Stitch’s number, which he fortunately hadn’t deleted yet. “Pick up, you dumb fuck,” he hissed when the wait lasted more than three signals.

Stitch sat on the bed in his room, feeling as empty as never before. He kept putting on Zak’s ring (as he now thought of it), but it only reminded him of Zak being gone from his life. The Hounds were out in Houma to party with another club they were becoming allies with thanks to having the Coffin Nails as a mutual enemy. Stitch chose not to go though, knowing it would be shit. He was in a bad mood and on top of that Captain would probably keep pushing Raven at him. There was nothing wrong with the girl, she was a cool rocker chick, but she wasn’t Zak. And it wasn’t just about dick or no dick either. With Zak, the whole world disappeared as they fucked each other into oblivion, then just lay there as if they were one body, until they had enough energy to come again.

Stitch looked at his phone where he had three missed calls. The last thing he wanted now was to have people trying to talk him into going to a party full of booze and tits. Something that used to be his element now felt as alien as never before. As if Zak had changed something in his DNA. He wanted Zak back so bad it hurt, but he couldn’t do it just now, when an explosion of violence was threatening to tear the town apart. So if Zak couldn’t wait, then this was it. Stitch could already imagine Zak finding some cool guy to start a life with and gritted his teeth so hard it began to give him a headache.

Stitch was such a waste of space. A problem for Crystal, a selfish father, he couldn’t make it work with Zak, nor could he blindly follow the club’s increasingly violent rulings and plans. He put on his cut and pulled out the gun hidden in it. The barrel was shiny and black, the heaviness so certain in his hands. Maybe there was something he could do right? He dug his fingertips into the hard steel when he heard a harsh rapping at the club backdoor. It was as if someone was beating on the wood with both fists.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He got up and went out into the corridor. “Shut the fuck up!” he yelled before opening the backdoor with a kick.

Cox stepped back, his hand trailing dangerously close to his gun. He was the last person Stitch expected to see.

“Someone has a violent streak today,” growled Cox.

“The fuck you want, Cox? If it’s ‘cock’ then you’re not getting it from me.” He sneered at the cop, the image of Cox in bed with Zak impossible to erase and now even more vivid than usual.

“It’s not cock,” said Cox with a smile that was dripping with poisoned honey. He made a move to enter.

“Go on,” Stitch snarled at him and let him pass. All the weed had been taken to the party so he couldn’t care less. “I suppose you don’t have a warrant?” Stitch imagined pushing his thumbs into Cox’s thick neck and holding them tight until he stopped breathing.

“I don’t need one.” Cox slowly walked over to the center of the lounge and crossed his arms on his chest. His eyes were dark and stabbed Stitch like invisible lasers. “You’re such a sad excuse of a man, Larsen.”

“You got something to say, Cox? Or are you just visiting for no reason?” Stitch frowned at him and clenched his hands into fists. He did not need to hear anything from this motherfucker.

“Yeah, I’m arresting you for assault.” Cox sneered like a vicious dog. “That at least will finally keep your hands off Zak.”

“Assault on who? Stay here longer, and it might be another assault on a police officer. Good stuff.” Stitch put his hands in his pockets not to push Cox just yet. “You have no business with me or Zak.”

Cox laughed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. What a piece of shit. You know what? I don’t care if you out me anymore. I’ll live, but if people find out about you where you’re going, you’re gonna be so
fucking
fucked.” Cox stepped closer, showing his teeth like a rabid dog. He was rounding Stitch, readying himself to attack.

Stitch’s body went cold, and he grabbed the front of Cox’s uniform. “What did you say?” He didn’t go through all of this shit with Captain to get outed and possibly killed by his former brothers. He was alienated enough already. “The fuck you want from me, huh?” He put all his effort into keeping his breathing normal despite the panic seeping into his brain.

They both turned to the door when it hit the wall, pushed from the outside. Zak stepped in with his eyes wide open, a thin layer of red smudged around his mouth, hair all messed up. He leaned his back against the wall with a low groan. “Told you it wasn’t him,” he uttered, but Cox was already back to the conversation he was having with Stitch.

“You’re gonna cooperate. I want your gang of thugs behind bars!”

Stitch’s eyes widened at the bruises on Zak’s face. Did Cox dare touch Zak over this shit? “I’m not gonna rat on no one! You know very well it would get me dead!” he yelled at Cox and shook him so hard a few buttons popped off Cox’s shirt.

“Oh, yeah?” Cox’s breath was moist and hot on his face. “Then I’ll make sure you’ll be gang raped in jail so many times you’ll call me, begging to rat out your own mother,” he growled with his face tensed into a cross between a grin and scowl.

Stitch already felt like a rat, trapped, cornered, with no good way out. Every option was like a wall pushing him in, trying to crush him. Crystal, Zak, prison, the Hounds, Captain, his own sexuality at the center of it all. He wished he could just cut it out of his body like a tumor. Instead, there was one wall he could crush. A tumor to cut out.

He pulled out his gun and shot into Cox’s chest. The impact sent Cox tumbling back, with his eyes wide open, so Stitch shot two more times just to make sure it sank in.

Cox’s chest, visible through the half-open shirt changed color to bright red, while the rest of him became ghastly pale within a split second. With his eyes wide, he opened his mouth and pulled out his own gun. Zak’s scream echoed in Stitch’s head along with the single shot, but Cox already dropped his firearm to the floor and fell to his knees, only to drop face-first like a fallen tree. He was dead.

So much adrenaline rushed through Stitch’s body that only now he put his palm against his arm, realizing the bullet had grazed its side. Blood dribbled down his skin, but he looked up at Zak, unsure what to do or say now.
Fuck. Fucking fuck.

Zak was frozen by the door, his face a mask of shock. He was trembling slightly as he moved his eyes between Cox and Stitch. The room resonated his deep, hissing breaths. “You killed him.”

Stitch looked to the body, and the dark stains on the floor. He’d never actually killed anyone before, but Cox had pushed him over the edge, threatened him. This was him or Cox. “He beat you up,” Stitch uttered quieter than he intended to. His stomach was taking a tumble, but his mind was blank, still processing what had happened.

Zak shook his head. He pushed himself away from the wall as if he were glued to it and stumbled forward with stiff, careful movements. “Oh, God, Stitch... What did you do?”

“You heard him!” The icicles in his body were warming up and trickling fear and panic into Stitch’s bloodstream. His hands shook, but he quickly put the safety on the gun. His breathing sped up. “What are you doing here, anyway?” he didn’t want to raise his voice, but it was all too much. He had a cop’s body cooling on the floor, a dead man’s blood on his face.

Zak stopped halfway through the room and wordlessly nodded at Cox. If there was something Stitch didn’t want Zak to see, that was it.

“What happened?” Stitch spread his arms, but then put his hands on his nape.

To make things worse, heavy steps resonated through the back corridor.

“Stitch! How many times am I supposed to call you? Get your ass ready for the par—” Captain yelled, but cut the sentence the moment he walked into the room. “What the fuck?”

Zak crossed his arms on his chest and looked to the cooling body, chewing on his lip like he wanted to bite through it. Captain quickly locked the door behind him, staring at the corpse as well.

“Is that Cox?”

“Yes, it’s fucking Cox!” Stitch yelled at him, but when he noticed red stains on Captain’s knuckles, a red light flashed in his brain. “Who’s blood is that, huh?” He walked up to Captain, looking between his hands and Zak’s messed-up face. He couldn’t care less about the blood dripping from his arm. If they didn’t get rid of Cox properly, he really would go to prison as a fucking cop-killer. This would be the end of his life. He wouldn’t see Holly again. Zak would move on and forget him. No one in the criminal justice system would ever believe it was all an accident. He didn’t want to pull the trigger. It just... happened.

Captain sneered and stomped toward Zak, as if he were trying to frighten a dog. “Seems it wasn’t fucking enough for that fag.”

Zak flinched, looking back. He actually moved closer to the body, hovering his hand over Cox’s forlorn gun.

“I fucking quit him on your push, and told you not to touch him!” Stitch went straight for Captain, ready to pull him apart like he was slow-cooked beef. Enough was enough. “Told you to leave him alone! It’s not his fault I’m like this!”

“Whatever. I don’t want his dirty ass in my town. Neither do the others,” growled Captain, pushing Stitch away. His dark hair was wild and unruly like some demonic villain’s from a movie.

“Never touch him again!” Stitch screamed at him and punched Captain in the gut, even though he knew that would provoke an onslaught. He couldn’t care less as they started hitting and kicking each other in an equal fight. The thought that Captain had beaten up Zak was the final straw.

Captain growled, twisting his body just enough to punch Stitch square in the jaw. Pain radiated through all of Stitch’s head like a ray of heat. He could hear Zak’s voice in the background, but he was completely taken by the need to twist Captain’s balls off.

Anything could be used in the fight, knees, elbows, teeth. Stitch bit Cap’s ear, almost tearing it off, but Captain elbowed his stomach and threw him to the coffee table. The rattle of broken glass accompanied his fall as he knocked over the old piece of furniture. Stitch kicked Captain’s knee so hard, Cap screamed and threw himself on top of him. They rolled around in the broken glass like two pit bulls that had been trained for this fight all their lives.

“There’s a fucking body out here!” It was a sobering hiss from Zak, but Captain only looked his way before headbutting Stitch so hard Stitch's brain felt like dripping out through his nose.

“Take care of it, pussyboy,” he growled, spitting red to the side.

“Don’t you dare call him that!” Stitch mumbled, still dizzy. He put his hand on Captain’s face and dug his fingers into the skin, but as he noticed Zak’s face above him, Captain got the upper hand again and pushed his thumbs under Stitch’s ribs, making him groan.

“I don’t care. Stitch, you killed a man, we need to do something about this!” Zak was close to wheezing. “Let’s go before someone starts looking for him. The fucking police car is outside!”

That seemed to have sobered Captain because he pulled away, frowning at Zak. “Fucking hell.”

Stitch rolled out from under Captain, pushing Cap to the glass. He was so done with this shit. The fact that he killed a man still hadn’t seeped in, but looking back to Cox, lying there, facedown, made it feel real. “Right. Car,” he mumbled and spat out blood.

Zak settled in the passenger’s seat, constantly eyeing Captain’s shadowy face in the rearview mirror. They were waiting for Stitch, who was still fumbling with Cox’s remains, which they had wrapped in several plastic bags to avoid any stains in Zak’s trunk. Zak crossed his hands over his chest. They felt dry and tender after all the bleaching and scrubbing he had to do back in the clubhouse. He preferred that to getting rid of a car or cutting apart a warm body with a saw from Stitch’s workshop. Zak couldn’t bring himself to think of Stitch methodically cutting off arms, legs, the head, without feeling nauseated. Those hands, which he knew to be so gentle, weren’t made for such an act.