“And your conclusion is what? That thirty men broke Fane’s heart?”
“No…” Elliot licked his lips and took a step closer. “Maybe we could look for the hidden graves together.”
Knight looked ahead as they walked along the road, toward the sad purple piece of junk that was Elliot’s car. A sense of embarrassment curled in Elliot’s stomach, but his attention was completely taken by Knight and what he might answer.
“And what? You’d twist our findings to fit your theories? I don’t see how this would be a good deal for me.”
“I’m also seeking truth. My feelings are what they are, but I want to find out what happened to those men. How did he do it? How did he hide it?”
Knight pondered Elliot’s words, but then his mouth curved and he let out a laugh. “Is this one yours? The Count’s carriage?” he asked, nodding toward the car.
Elliot groaned. “It’s not mine-mine. Of course. My actual car is being repaired so I got this piece of shit for now as a replacement.” He kicked the wheel for good measure, even though his heart bled at doing so.
Knight shook his head and pulled the leather jacket off Elliot’s shoulders before putting it back on. “Damn it. I don’t think I have the keys to the cuffs on me. Looks like you might have to drive using your teeth on the steering wheel.”
Elliot’s eyes went wide. So this was Knight’s plan. He hadn’t hit Elliot but would instead leave him here in the cold and have him die of hypothermia. It now made sense why he first got Elliot cold, then warm, and now cold again. He wanted to fuck up Elliot’s body and kill him slowly.
“You’ve got to be shitting me. I don’t even know if I have toes anymore.”
Knight blinked, as if he were a mime, and pulled out a small bundle of keys. “Ohh, there they are.” He whistled and gestured for Elliot to turn around.
Elliot exhaled deeply, frustrated to no end. Tiredness dropped on his shoulders like a coarse wet blanket, and with his guard down, he let himself enjoy the touch of Knight’s fingers.
“There. You may now call your driver,” Knight said once the handcuffs were off.
Tears filled Elliot’s eyes, but he wouldn’t let them spill. He opened his shitty car, ready to go back to his shitty place, and his shitty life. “Just leave me alone.”
Knight moved so abruptly Elliot fell right into the torn seat, suddenly certain he would end up dead after all, but Knight was only leaning over him, with the thick hair hanging so low Elliot could grasp it with his lips.
“Beast won’t tolerate you snooping around, and neither will I. Is that clear? Next time this happens, you are gonna lose that pristine smile of yours,” Knight said, tapping his teeth to demonstrate what he meant.
Elliot nodded in resignation. He was used to being disrespected, but this was a new low. He was sat in his piece of junk, with torn stockings, no shoes, his suit soaked and his face probably resembling a melted ice cream. This night didn’t have many ways in which it could go any worse than it had already. Knight’s presence seemed to exist only for the purpose of contrast.
Knight grabbed a fold of Elliot’s suit, which was hanging out of the cab, and tossed it inside before he shut the door. And that should have been it, but he gestured for Elliot to lower the window instead of turning on his heel and returning to the party.
Elliot rolled down the glass, unable to keep his eyes off this man who caused him so much distress and yet provided the perfect concoction of pleasure and pain simply by gracing Elliot with his brief companionship. Knight’s scent clung to Elliot, as if he were still clad in the jacket.
Knight popped his head into the car. “Give me your phone.”
Elliot’s shoulder’s sagged. “Really? After all this, you’re gonna rob me?”
Knight rolled his eyes and opened his palm. Elliot handed over his cell with resignation. Now that he thought of it, Knight probably just wanted to check that Elliot hadn’t taken any photos, so he just lay back and waited.
In the pale light generated by the cracked screen Knight looked as handsome as William Fane in his portraits, and Elliot couldn’t deny the insistent pull he felt in his company. He was so lost in his own head it surprised him when Knight dropped the phone into his lap.
“My phone number. Call me up if you really want to uncover the truth, and I’ll give you a personal tour. But if I ever see you coming here without authorization...” He made a cutthroat gesture with his index finger.
It took Elliot a while to process what he’d just heard, but in the end his heart started beating faster. A tour. Of the Fane mansion. He smiled. “I won’t. I mean, I will. I will call first!”