Bottom Line_Nomad Bikers Read online

  The next morning, I wake up with Avery in bed beside me. We had already planned to share a bed because he only had the one from his mom’s house and we wanted to save money. Avery wants to go to college, and I promised to support it, not be a distraction, and help keep costs down so Avery can afford to live here and go to school. Laura certainly can’t afford it. And Butch, well, we won’t ask the sick fuck for a penny.

  It feels right – me and Avery, doing shit our way.

  We didn’t move past kissing last night. I like the slow pace. This thing between us is all so new. With the shit Butch did to us both, I want Avery to know there is no pressure. I don’t want him twisted up about me being a man and him being a man. I don’t want him worried with what people with think of us. I just want to be. It’s all simply the way I love Avery Marcus Collins.

  I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before I hop out of bed and shower. With Avery still sound asleep, I head to work.

  The day is long, and we have a last-minute request for a small team move. It’s overtime for me, so I volunteer to take the job.

  Climbing into the box truck, I see Julius is my partner for the night. He went to school with Avery and me. He also made assumptions and made life miserable for us every chance he could. By doing stupid shit like shoving Avery around every chance he could find him alone. Well, Avery and I are both bigger now. More so, the passion I feel, I won’t tolerate him laying a finger on my man.

  Back then, Avery was skinny, and not because he didn’t eat. It was just his metabolism. Julius would pin him in the bathroom and flush his hair in the toilet whenever he could. I fight the urge to kick his ass just from the memory. I did once and got kicked out of school for it. Avery quickly reminded me too much of my future was on the line by fucking up Julius. The same applies right now. I can’t lose this job. There is too much on the line.

  After I send a quick text to Avery that I will be late, we head to the job.

  Six hours pass with Julius and me not speaking, just loading box after box into the truck, then making our way to the clients’ new home where we unload. I prefer the jobs where we move trailers, but these residential packing and moving jobs keep the bills paid.

  It’s just after eleven when we pull out. Julius doesn’t head back to the office, though. He parks in front of the Rat’s Nest to which I give him the what the hell look.

  “Let’s grab a beer, man,” Julius says, flashing me his new fake ID. We are both eighteen, but we work with a guy who makes the best identification cards that will pass any test given.

  Deciding it’s been a long day, and that one drink won’t kill me, I open the door to the box truck and hop out.

  Rat’s Nest is a rundown kind of place, but they have the most options on tap. A cold draft sounds better and better with each passing second.

  When we go inside, Julius immediately finds his group of friends. The five fuckers, Avery and I call them. Gabe, Andrew, Charlie, Fitz, and Michael all surround a pool table.

  I ignore them and belly up to the bar. Sending another quick text to Avery, I let him know we are done working but grabbing a beer. I decide not to tell him I’m with Julius. Why cause an issue or worry him?

  When I finish my beer, Julius is still hanging with his friends. I go over, not to bother them, but to let him know I’m going to get a ride home.

  “Hey, Julius,” I tell him when I make my way over to his group. “I’m heading home. Just park the truck where Clyde wants, and if anyone asks, I’ll get my bike tomorrow.”

  “Too good to ride with me?” he asks with an attitude.

  I shake my head. “Don’t start some shit. I’m fuckin’ tired. I’m gonna call Avery and go the fuck home. We have a big job tomorrow. You may not need sleep, but I fuckin’ do.”

  Without giving him a chance to reply, I walk away, pulling a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lighting one up as I step outside. Thank fuck for a job and money to buy them instead of picking up shit out of the garbage. I finish my cigarette moving to the right corner of the building on the sidewalk. Grabbing my phone on the clip on my side, I start to call Avery when it happens.

  I feel the burn. Shock hits me. The pain sears. It comes from different directions as I feel so many hands on me. Hands everywhere, I can’t move. I feel like I stop breathing. Everything burns. Over and over again, I feel knives pierce into my skin. I can’t shield myself as I stumble around, finding myself pushed in every direction.

  “Dirty boy, you thought you could clean yourself up; have some life in this town like you didn’t grow up in the gutter. You’re shit, Mitchell Gates. Always have been,” Gabe says, as I feel knife after knife cut into me.

  My shirt is ripped off, my pants cut off. I go commando.

  I feel them grab at my cock as I thrash wildly, but there are five of them and one of me.

  The one of them behind me, I feel his denim covered erection as he thrusts between my ass cheeks. The bite of the knife cutting my skin burns as the air hits my ass cheeks and the warmth of my blood trickles down.

  “Oh Avery must love this cock.” Fitz keeps thrusting behind me like he’s fucking me. “Pretty little Avery Collins suckin’ you like a pro. I hear he sucks better than a girl.” He groans reaching around me and grabbing my cock. Painfully, he strokes trying to make me go hard.

  My cock revolts as I fight to breathe. Is this what Avery feels when his asthma gets to him? I need air.

  “Fuck you, Fitz,” I spit as Charlie punches me in the head over and over again.

  I can’t see. I’m so dizzy. The sensations overwhelm me as my blood pools on the concrete under me. My entire body tingles. Everything hurts. Adrenaline rushes through my system as I try to fight back but there are too many of them.

  They continue to taunt me, cut me, and beat me. It’s all too much. I’m losing the battle. I fight to stay alert. My vision narrows. My ears ring making it hard to hear. My mind shuts down as I zone in on trying to survive. I finally have something to live for and they are trying to take it all away.

  “We’re gonna leave you here and go find your precious Avery. I’ll bet he can suck cock better than a bitch.” Gabe torments me.

  They all laugh and continue with the lewd comments. Rage boils inside me.

  “You fuckin’ touch Avery, I’ll kill you all.”

  “You two on display makes our whole town look disgusting. Like we’re some accepting place of your kind. We don’t accept man on man.” Julius tells me spitting in my eye. “We see you two. How you go out together and now live together, we see what you’re becoming!”

  “A bitch licking pussy is fine as long as I can watch and get my dick in there but you and Avery, you gotta learn, Mitchell, that shit won’t be tolerated.” I think it was Fitz who says this. The same Fritz who got hard while clothes grinding on my ass and jacked me off is going to talk about what won’t be tolerated. My head spins.

  “You can leave, Mitchell.” Julius instructs kicking me in the nuts. “Leave and don’t look back, Avery will be safe. You don’t and Avery is next.”

  In time, their words garble as the blackness wins. They all keep telling me to leave or they’re going to get Avery. I remember agreeing, nodding, choking out the words, all before I passed out thinking death was taking me.

  I wake up naked on the street, alone with no wallet, no phone, and nowhere to go.

  On an elbow crawl, I somehow make it down Main Street in Leed, Alabama until I land on the only doorstep that had lights on in the building that I could make out with my eyes swollen almost shut. I can’t make my body work. I can’t stand. Every time I try to push up I flop back down hitting the unforgiving pavement beneath me.

  I moan when a group of men come rushing out from what I make out to be Old Dog’s tattoo shop. Panic fills me, yet I can’t muster the energy to keep going.

  Kill me now, send me to hell.

  “Deacon,” someone calls out. “This man needs a medic. Frogman, you’re up.”

  I try to th
rash as the men grab me. My limbs are heavy and I’m too lethargic to put up a real fight.

  “Easy, brother. We’re the Devil’s Due MC. We’re gonna clean you up, get you healed. But you need to calm the fuck down.”

  I have never been able to trust anyone in my life, other than Avery. No way am I’m going to trust some random group of men on the streets. Hell, look what the people I know just did to me!

  The pain is too much. I want to die. I want to beg for the reaper.

  My body shakes and I control it. I’m freezing and I’m bleeding everywhere. I swear I tingle everywhere and one of my wounds opens more with every breath I attempt to take it seems.

  Closing my eyes, I see his face.

  Avery, I can’t let them get Avery. That means I have to walk away, let love go. Their problem was seeing me and Avery happy together. I will let him be free before I worry about someone touching him like this.

  “No,” I cry out. “Let me die. If I can’t have Avery, I need to die. I’m no good.”

  Knowing what we will face, knowing what could happen to him, I would rather die than stand witness to the ugliness life could give him, and all for standing behind me. I will pay his bills, go somewhere else just to keep him safe. The fuckers who did this, they’re going to get a message from me: They touch a single hair on Avery’s head …

  No, fuck that, if they so much as breathe the same air as Avery, I’ll kill them all by making them choke on my motherfucking cock.

  If I live through the night, I’ll leave this town and always remember this.

  “Phone,” I clip out. “I need a phone.”

  Another man comes into my narrow vision holding one up. “Name’s Collector. Give me the number and I’ll make the call.”

  “No call. Text. Simple.” I bite back the pain. Spouting off Avery’s number, Collector nods at me. “Can’t do this shit after all. I promised myself to give you the world. Your world is better if I’m not in it. I’m riding out to find myself. Mitchell.”

  Collector types away and gives me another nod when the message to Avery is sent. I lose consciousness knowing Avery is going to hate me for hurting him. This is a pain we will both feel, but in time Avery can move on. I never will. No one will ever give me what Avery did and this is the only way I can protect him.

  Avery’s going to have everything I never could, and he’s going to have it for the both of us.

  Love may be love, regardless of gender, but people are assholes and the danger is real.

  Devil call me home, because the life I will be forced to live without Avery will be a hell all its own. Mark my words by the blood on the cement beneath me, every moment I live will be to give Avery a future free from this right here. And if one motherfucker ever fucks with that, I’ll be the one to send them personally to hell. I’m trapped once again.

  The devil himself doesn’t have shit on the hate I feel and the hate I will forever carry with me.

  SECTION THREE

  The Present …

  Isn’t easy and it’s as ugly as the past.

  This section picks up where Paid in Full left off. Deacon and Tempest are still in Tennessee running Haven’s Harbor. Judge and Tamalyn stayed in Tennessee as well while the rest of the Devil’s Due MC make their return to Leed, Alabama. We go back to where it all began – Old Dog’s shop.

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Mitchell~

  Eight Years Later…

  L eed, Alabama. Back to the beginning.

  Some scars to our souls can never heal. That is how I feel every time we come back here, like the wounds on my soul will be ripped wide open again.

  This place is a portal to Hell. Sure, most people will disagree with me on that point, but they can fuck themselves.

  I was eighteen years old when my world was turned upside down. I was eighteen years old when I made a decision—the wrong decision—that changed the course of everything I was and made me everything I am today.

  Good Mitchell, the boy who simply wanted a better life than his upbringing, bled out on the concrete that night. The Mitchell who dumpster-dived in order to not steal food or clothes was killed in a pool of blood and shame. Mitchell, the boy who once hoped he could overcome everything with enough determination and love, including Butch Sanders, was lost the night his peers showed their true colors.

  In the last eight years, Trapper was born and turned into the man I am today. No longer a victim to be held, confined, and raped, I am a man who will take whatever the fuck I want, whenever the fuck I want it. No longer a boy with no way to defend myself, I will gut a motherfucker without a single second of hesitation.

  During the time it took to heal my body, I seared closed any opening to my soul. The devil himself should fear a fucker like me. Death can take me now and I shall fear no evil, because I am all things dirty, wrong, and bad, bitches. No one can touch me now … no one except Avery.

  I spent ten days sleeping on Old Dog’s tattoo table, refusing to go to the hospital, while complete strangers nursed me back to health. Fucking Deacon constantly giving me alcohol before pouring rubbing alcohol on my stab wounds and packing the ones that needed it. The man even gave me stitches for the cuts that required them. The burn down my throat was nothing compared to the burn as the shithead stitched me up.

  At the time, I didn’t know he was a former Navy Seal. And when he set up an IV out of a backpack he referred to as a “go-bag,” I was in too much pain to give a shit. I refused to get treated at the hospital. I just wanted to die that night. Gentry “Deacon” Hawkins refused to let me, though. The bastard.

  All to save Avery.

  I may not have died physically, but inside, the piece of me that craved him like my next fucking erection, was killed with every stab of those knives. Well, at least that’s what I tell myself.

  That’s a lie .

  Spitting blood on Deacon didn’t deter the man from continuing to seek answers for what happened. All the nomads of the Devil’s Due tried to get the information out of me. In the end, the man who was trained in counter-interrogation won. I filled him in with the details of the hate crime. And to this day, the damn man pretends like he doesn’t know. My nightmare, he will take to the grave. I respect him more than I think he even knows.

  I expected the military man to haze me, harass me, or put me out on my ass. After all, I didn’t hold back. The memory washes over me like it was yesterday even though I was five days into my healing and trying to sort out my shattered heart while sorting out my life.

  “I’m a homo!” I yell out. “That what you wanna hear, sailor boy? I love to take cock up my ass.” I let the venom spew from my mouth even if I don’t know what it is to have consensual sex with a man. In my mind, I have had sex with Avery so it makes me gay enough for my standards, to hell with anyone else’s.

  I don’t love cock. I love him. I love Avery Marcus Collins. It’s not about a man or a woman. I love the person. I love the person who didn’t see me as the trash in town, but as a boy going through a different kind of hell, just wanting to survive.

  Survival is overrated.

  “You think I give a fuck if you like cock?” Deacon asks, never raising his voice. “We all got issues, but you gettin’ laid, however you do it, doesn’t seem like a problem to me.”

  “That’s what they cut me for. Sliced and diced. And they can do it all again as long as they stay the fuck away from Avery.”

  “Your man in danger?”

  “Not something I can’t handle,” I cough out as I sit up and feel my stitches pull.

  “Dammit, Mitchell, we’ll fuckin’ help you. Ain’t a single one of us that give a shit how you get your rocks off,” Deacon continues to explain. “Collector sent the text. You should know this Avery person is bound and determined to find you. Been blowin’ up Collector’s phone trying to reach you.”

  “I just need time to heal and then I’m gone so Avery can be safe.”

  “We can make Avery safe for you.” Deacon explains still che
cking each wound.

  “Who knows?” I ask him feeling the panic build at someone else’s judgment.

  “No one. Look man, you’re young. We see that. You got yourself in some shit. Collector doesn’t even know Avery’s a dude and I’m not sayin’ a word. That’s your shit to tell when you want to.”

  “Avery’s called, I’m sure he knows he’s a man.”

  Deacon shakes his head. “Collector’s days of getting in someone’s shit are done. Unless it’s a job he’s hired for he simply deletes the messages without listening. Old Dog says you’re a good kid. He’s known you around town. Told us to take you in. Earl says you ate out of the dumpster as a kid to not steal food. That’s the kind of man we respect. Old Dog Earl got you in and now we’re family. Lay your troubles at our feet and together we’ll figure shit out Devil’s Due style.”

  “No one knows. I’m trapped staying here. I’m leaving, and you don’t tell a soul what you know.”

  “Ride out with us. We’ll stay till you’re road ready.”

  As the pain and the meds took over, I passed out before verbally answering Deacon that night. I woke up with clothes, a new phone, and my bike parked in the back two days later. I respect that Deacon has never once brought up what I told him that night.

  When I was strong enough to face Julius and his crew, it was Deacon who was at my side.

  I made a deal with the devil’s cronies that night—they let Avery be, and I would leave town. No one would know what they did. Julius would be free to take more hours at work since I wouldn’t be there to compete with, which turned out to be what he really wanted. Fitz, well, I told that fat fuck I wouldn’t let a soul know how hard he was when he had jutted into my ass, especially not his boys who had cut me up.

  Deacon was the one who put the icing on the cake, binding them to their words. If they so much as said hello to Avery Collins, he would wipe out their entire existence with his government connections.

  It worked, too. Avery was safe from that day forward, while I was a mess of a man.