Sex & Mayhem 01 Road of No Return (33 page)

The man didn’t answer, but Zak didn’t care much for him, too focused on the warm touch of Stitch’s rough fingers. He looked at him even as they walked. “You’ve been here all this time?” he whispered.

“Yes.” It was a barely audible mutter, and when they walked into the club, a dozen eyes watched them pass. It made Zak’s skin crawl. He swallowed hard and rushed forward, leading the way into the corridor where Stitch had taken him a few times. His feet moved quickly, as if wanting to keep up with Zak’s heart. He didn’t know what to make of this. How could Stitch worry him so much?

The moment the door to Stitch's room shut, the silence became unbearable. And to make matters worse, Stitch actually backed off a few steps instead of following his usual voracious hunger for closeness.

Zak’s teeth started slightly clattering, and he squeezed his jaw hard, his back hitting the wall. “What is this? What the fuck is going on?” he uttered, choking up at the back of his throat. His mind already knew, but he refused to believe it. He knew going into a relationship would end badly, he knew it!

“I have to take some time off, Zak.” Stitch took a deep breath, which only emphasized just how ridiculously well chiseled his abs were. “There’s all this shit with Captain, with the club, with Crystal. It’s gonna take a while to sort out.”

Zak laughed into his face, though to his own ears it sounded sad and desperate. “Time off? Are you fucking kidding me? Is that why you made me wait for a fucking message that you’re all right?” Within a single second, Zak crossed the space between him and Stitch, and pushed him to the wall, breathing hard. His whole body was burning with the need to hit someone.

“I thought it’d be better if I stayed away. What if someone steals my phone and finds the texts, or sees you’re someone I talk to all the time, and they track you down, huh?” Stitch didn’t push back though.

“Oh, fuck you,” growled Zak. He entwined his fingers over his nape and paced toward the other end of the small room, close to shaking in anger.

“Please don’t be like that…” There it was. That puppy-eyed look that had no right to be there. Yet Stitch didn’t move closer, as if Zak were some leper all of a sudden.

“Like what? Be like you and pretend that I don’t love you?” Zak stepped back and kicked the single chair to the floor. Every part of his body was aching with tension. “What is this shit? Those girls? What the fuck, Stitch?”

Stitch frowned and hit his forehead against the wall. “It’s stupid. Captain found this girl, Raven, and he keeps pushing me at her like she can replace you just because she’s got tattoos and piercings. I’m playing along so he pisses off. He’s changed so much I feel like I don’t even know him anymore. I just need to make things right in the club and find a way for us to be together, but it’s not easy.”

Zak spread his arms in helplessness. “And how long it this shit going to take? You don’t talk to me, you can’t even fucking text me? Grow some balls!”

Stitch looked back at him with his face tense. “I’m sick of everyone trying to push me their way! You want balls, here’s balls: I’ll tell you when I’m ready. For now, we’re done. I can’t be split in half! If you can’t wait, then that’s it,” he lashed out and punched the wall so hard his fist made a dent.

Zak stared at him, completely dumbfounded. So there it was. The truth about Stitch. His priorities, people who he considered more important than Zak. Maybe it was better to get the wake-up call sooner than later. He was already getting too comfortable in Lake Valley.

“Why did you do this to me? I was perfectly fine with my fun and relaxed sex life before I met you.” Zak shook his head, pulling on the shirt over the black hole in his chest.

Stitch looked back into his eyes. “Me? I had none of these problems before I met you. I didn’t ask for this to happen. I was a perfectly miserable closeted guy, and then you just walked in and… and…”

Zak raised his hand to shut him up. He’d just taken a figurative bullet to the chest, and he needed to get it out of his system. He walked over to Stitch, turning the signet on his thumb. It was a dead weight, squeezing over his pulsing finger like the jaws of a carnivorous bug. With each step, he was closer. First, close enough to sense Stitch’s smell. Then, close enough to feel his warmth, and as they were almost nose to nose, he smiled, even though his insides felt like they were falling apart. “Then you’ve solved that problem. You won’t be seeing me anymore. Enjoy Raven, or whatever her name is,” he whispered and pushed the signet deep into Stitch’s jean pocket.

Stitch watched him without a word, but it did give Zak a tiny glimpse of satisfaction to see his whites redden. “My problem will never be solved after I’ve been in that hot, tight body,” he whispered, and his breath was so close it burned.

“That hot, tight body?” repeated Zak through his teeth, squeezing his right hand into a fist. “You even talk about me in third person now?”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Stitch closed his eyes for a moment. “Why don’t you
listen
?”

“You just dumped me.” Zak laughed out loud and stepped back when his eyes started welling up. He was so done. If he needed a sign he was through with this town, this was it.

Stitch fished out the signet from his pocket and held it out to Zak. “Would you keep it?”

Zak stumbled backward as if the ring was a weapon and held onto the door handle, which he quickly pushed down, opening the door. He didn’t need memories like this. Stitch didn’t follow him out into the corridor, nor did he say another word. Without him by Zak’s side, the corridor felt so alien and uninviting, Zak just wanted to leave.

Unsure whether the club door was open, he walked back to the bar and rushed straight for the door, not wanting to talk to anyone. Outside, he was blinded by sharp sunlight but found his way to the car, keeping his head low.

Captain sat by the table surrounded by girls, looking like a cock in a henhouse. He eyed Zak all the way to the car, but Zak chose to ignore it. He slipped his shades on and started the engine, pulling away without a word. The heavy metal that tore through the air the moment he switched on his MP3 player should suffice. He didn’t want to go home yet. The sun was slowly setting, so there wouldn’t be that many cars on local roads, and he could just go somewhere quiet to have a place to scream.

He pulled out of the club’s parking lot and sped down the road, to be out of town as soon as humanly possible. The emptiness on the finger where he used to wear the signet still burned, so he forced his old car to go even faster, just so he could be as far away from the lying bastard as he could. Soon enough, Zak started passing little houses and neverending fields. It was getting dark when he finally stopped the car at the side of the road and got out, turning his face to the sun. It didn’t burn anymore, leaving a pleasant warmth on his skin instead. Slowly, he made his way toward the trees by the road, all alone and with the hole in his chest still the size of the Grand Canyon. He swore into the creeping darkness and slapped his hand against one of the trunks.

He hadn’t decided on what to do. Six months was a lot of time, and he’d started feeling homely in his new house. In the city, Versay wouldn’t have as much space as he did now, and Zak didn’t want to give him away. He had no idea what the best course of action was, and the chaos in his head did nothing to help.

All his senses stood to attention the moment he heard the roar of a motorcycle on the road. Did Stitch change his mind? Zak wouldn’t accept it just like that, but if Stitch did his penance and said he’d leave the club, Zak supposed he could accept an apology. His heart leapt toward the still roaring engine, but his mind refused to just let him walk over to Stitch’s feet like a beaten puppy. He turned around to face the sweet-scented bushes and leaned against the tree, listening.

The heavy steps of boots crushed the dried up weeds, but instead of Stitch’s Nordic blond, what Zak saw was Captain’s black bushy hair and beard emerging from behind a thick tree. Zak’s first reflex was to step back, but he forced himself to stand his ground even though his insides froze, and his brain started looking for possible weapons around. Sadly, he was afraid breaking off a branch wouldn’t do.

“Thought we needed to have a little chat,” Captain said, clearly enjoying approaching Zak like a predator. They both knew who had the upper hand here, but Zak was intent on not showing any sign of weakness, as difficult that might be.

He shrugged with a deep sigh. “I don’t think we do anymore.”

Captain stood in front of him, all too close. “If I ever see you around the club again, you’re as good as gator meat, get it?”

Zak knew what he should say, but anger got the best of him. He would not just piss his panties in front of the guy who took Stitch away from him. “Are you getting off on this?”

Instead of an answer, he got a fist to the face so fast, Zak barely comprehended why he ended up on the ground with his head still dizzy from the hit.

“Now I am.” Captain took a step back and squinted at him. “I’m not gonna have some faggot degenerate my friend.”

Zak swallowed the coppery taste in his mouth, his muscles stiffening as he checked his teeth. All were still in place. “Says the guy who eats out a girl in public,” he muttered, slowly rising to his feet. This time, he’d be prepared.

“Better than having my ass fucked.” Captain launched at Zak and even though Zak tried to kick him, the guy was like a bulldozer of muscle next to him, pushing Zak to the ground, hit by hit.

Zak’s head was a mixture of panic and resignation. He managed to deliver a few punches, but it didn’t seem to slow the fucker down. “No one wants to fuck your ugly ass,” he growled through clenched teeth as he shielded his skull from the punishing blows. He was caught on the edges of a tornado, tossed around without a way out. His mind turned to autopilot, searching for an opening to Captain’s groin, but it just wouldn’t come.

Captain managed to kick Zak’s shin and send him to the dirt again before taking a step back. He spat at Zak with an ugly gurgle. “Keep your fag ass away from Stitch.”

Zak flinched, curling into a ball in the wet dirt. He watched Captain through the slit between his half-closed eyelids, ready to move to avoid a kick in the back. His whole body was screaming with dull pain, dizzy from the powerful blows to the head, and he sealed his mouth shut, wishing only that this menace would turn around and leave.

And he did. Without another word, Captain walked off, leaving Zak to swallow his own blood along with his pride. This day just couldn’t get any worse. Slowly, he wiped his face with his arm and turned to his stomach with a low groan. It was exhausting enough with his muscles tense as strings, but the sudden roar of a motorbike engine spiked something deep in Zak’s stomach, and he lurched forward, vomiting on the dirt. He heaved over the puddle and rolled to the side, looking into the treetops looming over him. He didn’t even notice when he started shaking.

“Fuck...” he uttered, spitting blood as he pulled himself up by a tree that he used as support. Each of his joints twitched, as if every punch he got had been precisely aimed to turn him into a ball of pain. His eyelids were burning, he didn’t know whether because of shame or loss, but he hugged the trunk, digging his fingers into the bark as if it were the patches on Stitch’s cut. A low, breathless sob left his lips, and he opened his eyes, blinking away the haze of moisture before slowly making his way forward. It felt like he was moving like a penguin but with each step, his body got more used to the sting. When he finally dropped into the seat of his car, the safety of the known upholstery, of the familiar smell, made the situation dawn on him even more.

He started the car gently, afraid the rattle would get him hurting even more, but when nothing changed, he sped up, wishing to be home as fast as possible. Driving out to think in the countryside when a mad biker hated your guts wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe even staying in Lake Valley wasn’t such a good idea. With every mile closer to town, he drove faster. What if that motherfucker came to his house and poisoned Versay or something?

“Nonono,” whispered Zak, pushing the pedal even lower as he drove down the empty road. Each pulse in his temples was like a strobe light exploding in his head. It was making him dizzy again, but he was too close to home to stop in the middle of the road, so he sped up even more, focusing on the fluorescent markings on the road.

An ear-piercing signal of a police vehicle dug into his skull, and he saw the car in his rearview mirror, like a piranha approaching him when he was already deep in water, bleeding and unable to swim away. Could nothing go his way today?

Gritting his teeth, he slowly pulled to the side of the road and put his hands on the steering wheel. He regretted obeying the protocol the moment he saw his fingers trembling, but the policeman was already approaching in the bright lights of his car.

And of course, it was no one other but Cox. Was he the only fucking cop in this town? Zak groaned when Cox knocked on the car window. He pulled down the glass, trying to keep his face in the shadow. He just wanted to be home.

“Hey,” he muttered.

Cox bowed down to his window. “Hey, Zak. You hurrying somewhere?”

“Sorry, my mind drifted away,” he said, wondering if Captain had castrated his tongue as there were no clever remarks coming Cox’s way.

Cox frowned, taking a better look at Zak. “Did Larsen do this to you?”