Eventually, he reached the front of the house where two windows on either side of the door shed enough light to reassure Knight that he wouldn’t miss anything. Careful to remain hidden, he stood on a block of concrete to peek into the single room inside.
Knight’s blood boiled and evaporated through his ears on the spot.
Elliot stood next to his ex. The same ex who had tried to strangle Elliot just weeks ago. Now Elliot was handing him the stolen beer.
Martin was tall and thick in the shoulders, likely twice as heavy as Elliot’s angular frame. And yet there Elliot was, walking straight into the bear cave in the spring yet again.
The uncertain smile on Elliot’s face was the most unsettling thing Knight had seen all day, but at least he could listen on to their conversation through the thin windows.
“It must have been hard for you after a year in jail. I should have been more understanding,” Elliot said, opening a beer for himself. “Do you need some help with this place?” He looked around the rundown room full of empty microwavable dinner boxes and plastic bottles.
Knight’s fists balled up. So there it was. Elliot wanted to move in with that prick. Over Knight’s dead body. He would not have someone who was under his protection disappearing in a shallow grave somewhere in the woods. Besides, Elliot told him he wanted to do some work together on the history of the clubhouse, and that was how he was going about it? Running away like a rat from a sinking ship just because Fane’s ghost appeared in the basement?
Knight reached for his gun and stiffened when he didn’t find it where it usually was. Crap. He’d left it in the clubhouse. Because who came armed to a sex party? What a useless fucking situation.
The cold ceased bothering him when a yelp came from inside the house, and once he looked up, he saw beer drizzling down Elliot’s face and Martin twisting his ugly profile into a scowl.
“What the hell is this? Are you really bringing me this kind of warm piss? I’ve been in the slammer for over a year, and I got rid of your old man for you. That’s how you’re thanking me?”
Knight gasped, shocked by this admission, and his mind flared up with the memory of Elliot talking about his late father so begrudgingly. He watched Martin spill the remaining beer from the can down Elliot’s head and the pale face tensing in anguish.
Elliot whined and stepped away, shaking the liquid off. “I just grabbed the first thing there. I wasn’t thinking. I can make it up to you though.” He pulled off his soaked turtleneck, and despite the rage flooding Knight’s body, he didn’t fail to notice that Elliot was no longer skinny in a sickly way. “We had a good thing going, right? No one knowing, no distractions.”
Martin snorted, glaring at Elliot even as he tossed away the empty can. “You found someone to console you pretty fast. He broke my fucking nose.”
Elliot stepped closer and touched the thug’s face as if it were porcelain. “I’m sorry. Things got out of hand, and I had to live my life somehow. If you hadn’t stolen that car, we wouldn’t have had to part in the first place.”
There was an unpleasant tingle in Knight’s body. Second by second he could see Martin’s muscles tense, his small eyes coldly focused as Elliot scrambled for forgiveness of a man who’d tried to kill him once already. The worst of Knight’s suspicions were about to come true if he didn’t act, but he was unarmed. With an emptiness in his head, he searched the ground within the weak glow coming out the window and finally spotted a narrow pipe resting on a pile of rubble.
As quietly as he could, Knight approached it and picked it up. It was painfully cold and so rough it was likely very rusty, but that didn’t matter when Martin raised his voice enough to be easily heard through the walls. So far away from other people he didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing the violence that was coming Elliot’s way. But Knight was here. Knight wouldn’t allow Martin to be a danger to Elliot ever again.
“If you’re so sorry, how about you lick that disgusting piss off the floor? It’s your fault I got so angry.”
Elliot backed away and for a split second disappeared from Knight’s view, only to come back, pulling his wet sweater back on. “Why do you have to be such a dick about this? I came over so that we could make up.”
Martin showed his teeth, barking at Elliot like a ferocious bull terrier. “This is my house, and you’ll do as I tell you. On your knees.”
How could have Elliot not seen this coming from that meathead? How could anyone be so blind? Then again, Elliot did have an unhealthy love for Fane, and that should have explained it all.