His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (29 page)

Chapter 24 – Misha

Misha was sat in a chair at the
barber shop belonging to Tooth’s boyfriend, feeling nervous without the
wheelchair, but Grim insisted it needed a technical checkup at his friend’s
workshop and took it away. Grim assured Misha that Lucky could be trusted and
that he wouldn’t be gone long, but it didn’t make Misha feel much safer. If
anything happened, he wouldn’t be able to run, and crawling wasn’t nearly as
effective as a method of losing a tail.

He was, however, relieved to
realize that he wasn’t afraid of the scissors in Lucky’s hand. He’d wielded a
knife without fear just yesterday, and it didn’t matter that Tomas had been
dead already. What mattered was that Misha wasn’t afraid of the blade anymore.
Maybe he was getting more confident, or maybe it was the way Grim had with
knives that made Misha believe the blades were on his side. Either way, it made
him feel good about himself, and now he would get his hair in order as well.
Even staying among strangers without Grim was becoming easier as long as Grim vouched
for them.

Lucky was a handsome guy around
Misha’s age. His extremely long blond hair contrasted with an all-black outfit,
but despite his big combat boots and a skull-shaped belt buckle, he smiled a
lot and seemed friendly. A bit
too
friendly toward Grim as far as Misha
was concerned. When Lucky turned around to pick up a comb, Misha noticed white
patches on the back of his denim vest. They stated: “Property of Tooth” and
were accompanied by the Coffin Nails logo.

“Did someone cut your hair out of
spite? Jesus.” Lucky frowned and ran his fingers through Misha’s locks. “I’d
cut a fucker who tried to mess with mine like this.”

It felt strange to be touched by
someone other than Grim, but Misha needed to get over himself, so he didn’t
flinch. “No, Grim did it. It was getting too long,” he mumbled, annoyed by how
shit his social skills were after spending years talking only to Gary or a
webcam.

Lucky pulled on a few strands,
watching the hair as if it were out to murder him. “I guess he tried.”

“I’m here for a reason. No need
to rub it in.” Misha pouted and sank in the chair.

“Wow, I didn’t see that one
coming,” said Lucky and put his hands on the backrest of the chair, glancing at
Misha in the mirror. “What kind of hair do you want to leave with?”

Misha didn’t exactly spend his
time looking through fashion magazines. “I want it to be … you know,
attractive?” This couldn’t get any more embarrassing. Killing people was easier
than this.

Lucky closed his eyes for a
moment. “Okay. How does Grim like it?”

Misha frowned, watching his own
reflection go red. “I think he likes to have something to hold on to.”

“You
think
?” asked Lucky,
lowering himself over Misha. His nimble fingers slid between the strands,
massaging Misha’s scalp. It had been so long since Misha visited a hairdresser
that he wasn’t exactly sure if this amount of touching was something American
barbers did or if he was getting some kind of
special
treatment.

“Sorry, that was a bit too much
information.”

“No, no. That’s viable
information. A man’s barber is like a doctor. You can be absolutely sincere
with me,” said Lucky, and he picked up a trimmer.

“Grim likes to be all slick and clean-shaven,
but I’m pretty certain he wouldn’t like me bald.” Misha stared at his
reflection. It’d been a while since he was prompted to assess himself so
intensely. Gary had been insistent about Misha’s grooming routine, but he
didn’t leave Misha any choice in the matter. Without the Rapunzel hair, with
his arms exposed by a tank top, and fair hair dusting his forearms, Misha
finally felt more grown up. As if his skin was his own again.

“Oh, I’m not gonna get rid of
your nice, healthy hair. You’ve been taking care of it,” said Lucky, and he started
easing the strands with a simple black comb.

The silence that settled between
them made Misha choke up, and he was desperately trying to come up with
something to talk about. “Soo … Your boyfriend’s Tooth, right? The VP here in
Detroit?”

“Yep. And it’s thanks to me that
all the members have fabulous hair,” said Lucky with pride as he switched on
the trimmer and used it to cut some of Misha’s hair by pulling the buzzing
device along the comb. “Tooth’s really amazing. We even have our own house
now.”

“And no one bothers you? For
being gay? We’ve been to Charleston with Grim, and it was … tense.” Misha
winced when Lucky pulled on his hair a bit too hard.

Lucky rolled his eyes and gave a
quiet laugh. “This isn’t West Virginia, babe. Our guys are much more open about
this.”

Misha smiled, wondering how it
would be to be a part of a community that kept their own safe. Where he
wouldn’t have to fight tooth and nail for every step.Though, to be fair, not
all the guys he met here so far wanted to interact with him in any way, so
maybe it was just Lucky and Tooth that everyone was fine with. Misha and Grim
went beyond the token gay couple everyone could use of an example of “gay
friends” when push came to shove during a discussion at the Christmas table.
“And if people who aren’t in the club see the back of your vest … they don’t
bother you?”

Lucky shrugged as he continued to
even out Misha’s hair. “They wouldn’t dare. My Tooth is famous for dealing with
people who pick on his family.”

“That’s … nice.” At least as
Misha watched the proficiency with which Lucky worked, he wasn’t anxious about
the outcome.

Lucky looked at Misha with a
smirk tugging at his handsome face. “I bet you’re having a lot of fun with
Grim. He’s such an interesting person.”

Misha couldn’t help a silly grin.
“That he is. Definitely. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“I knew something was up when
Tooth told me he wouldn’t be interested in me, because I don’t have ... the
attributes he likes,” said Lucky casually. “I really wanted to meet him after
that, but Tooth wouldn’t let me.”

Misha looked down at his stumps,
which were safely tucked into a pair of pinned-up sweatpants. “Oh. This is …
common knowledge?”

Lucky shrugged. “No, but Tooth
and Grim had this fling once, and that’s how he must have found out.”

“Tooth had a fling with Grim?”
Misha reflexively wanted to look over his shoulder, but Lucky forced his head
to stay put. “
You
were hitting on Grim? I mean … yeah, I guess he’s
handsome,” he uttered, suddenly losing ground from underneath his feet. He knew
he was being unreasonable, but the conversation opened a gash in Misha’s
newfound confidence about his developing relationship with Grim.

“Just don’t tell them I said
that, or I’ll get spanked,” said Lucky with a cocky grin.

“Is that a thing with bikers?”
Misha stirred in the chair, even more uncomfortable, desperately missing his
wheels. If there was something he might want to run from it was this kind of
conversation with a stranger. “They spank their ’property’?”

“No. It’s a private joke I have
with Tooth,” said Lucky, and a few short bits of hair tickled Misha’s skin as
they fell to his shoulder.

Misha sighed in relief. He needed
to understand the biker culture better, but he kept stumbling over stupid shit
like this. “Sorry. I-I guess it makes sense if they were both single. So even
though you’re so cute, he wouldn’t go for you just because you’re … whole?”

 “No idea, but once, there was a
guy here, who had his fingers amputated, and Grim definitely had the hots for
him.”

Misha took a moment to reevaluate
his doubts. They were stupid. He and Grim shared much more than Grim having the
hots for stumps and Misha considering Grim ridiculously handsome. Those were
all just features a person could have.

“I suppose it’s nice to be liked
for what you look like not despite it.”

“Very true. That’s actually quite
inspiring,” said Lucky, glancing at Misha in the mirror.

Misha snorted. “I could put that
on Facebook.”

“With a picture of Grim’s
you-know-what?” asked Lucky, wiggling his eyebrows.

Misha went so silent the next
clip of scissors sounded like a guillotine cutting through his neck. This
conversation got out of hand all too quickly. “Facebook doesn’t even allow
women’s nipples, so … yeah.” He hoped that would end the topic in a fun yet
definitive way, but Lucky didn’t seem to get the hint.

“How is it with him? He’s
enormous even when soft. Does his dick grow even bigger when he gets hard?”
Lucky whispered with a knowing smile ghosting across his mouth.

Misha frowned, unsure if Lucky
was unbearably rude, or if this was something gay guys talked about. “That’s …
kind of private.”

Lucky switched off the trimmer
and started combing Misha’s hair with his fingers. “Come on, I won’t tell.
Tooth’s big, but Grim ... I mean ... can you actually
take
it?”

Misha crossed his arms on his
chest, pretending to be assessing his hair as he desperately thought of a
comeback. “I top.”

“Yeah right. I saw him going
after a guy once. He wasn’t in the mood for bending over. Plus, it would be
such a waste to have him bottom with a cock like that.”

Misha groaned, struck by the
memory of how resentful Grim was about men always focusing on the size of his
cock. Clearly, he hadn’t been exaggerating. “Okay. Whatever. So he’s got a big
dick, but he knows how to use it.” At least Misha’s hair really did look nice
and even.

“How does it feel? Is it
painful?” Lucky petted Misha’s hair, as if he were a cat. “Or are you into
that?”

“Why? Is Tooth so small, that you
think it’s so differe—Ow!” Misha hissed when Lucky pulled his hair
accidentally, yet
so
on purpose.

“No need to be mean. It’s just a
question. I’m curious.”

“He’s more than his dick. He’s
not a fling to me, he’s my … man.” Just like Misha wasn’t just the stumps.

Lucky scowled. “I never said he
wasn’t. That’s your assumption.”

“I don’t want to talk about our
sex life!”

The bell at the door rang when
Grim entered in his all-leather outfit, pushing Misha’s dearly missed
wheelchair inside. Misha couldn’t help but glance to the dick outlined so
clearly in one leg of his pants.

“How are you two doing? I bet
you’ve become friends by now.”

Misha put a hand over his face,
flushing as he trailed his gaze up Grim’s powerful chest, all the way to the
chiseled face. “My hair’s almost done.”

Grim smiled. “You look really
nice. I’m not nearly as good at this as Lucky.”

“Grim! You’ve been here for a few
days now, and we didn’t even get a chance for a chat,” said Lucky and reached
out to him in greeting.

Grim stared at him for a split
second but shook his hand. “I’ve been busy.”

“That’s a sign that you need to
relax. Maybe I could tempt you with a treatment? On the house,” promised Lucky.

“I don’t know if we have time.”
Misha looked over the back of the chair to catch Grim’s eyes and communicate
his peril.

“Oh, you do, you do.” Lucky waved
his hand with a smile and pushed Misha back into the chair when he rose. “I still
have a hair mask to do on you.”

Grim sat in the other chair. “I
suppose ...”

Misha couldn’t help glancing at
the outline of Grim’s dick again. It was difficult to miss, especially when
Grim shifted and the leather clung even tighter around the length.

“Here,” said Grim and put
something in Misha’s lap. It was a folded leather garment, a plastic folder
stuffed with paper, and an American passport on top. “Your new surname’s
Babanin.”

Misha smiled and picked up the
passport to look inside. His heart sped up, and he wondered how the Coffin
Nails managed to do this. Did Grim have to bribe someone in the immigration
department? For him? “Classy.” He looked through the document, ignoring the
whole folder for the time being. The passport even had a picture of Misha’s
that they took at a mall on the way here.

“And look at the cut. I had one
of the girls sew on the patches.”

Misha gave Grim a quizzical look
but quickly folded out the black leather. His breath caught in his throat at
the sight of a row of letters that sent his head into a spin. The vest read,
“Property of Grim.” Before he could say anything, Lucky whistled.

“Wow, things are getting serious
in here.”

Misha ran his fingers over the
patches, his skin tingling. “I guess they are.”

“You’ve got all your documents,
your citizenship. We can get married now,” said Grim from his seat.

Misha’s voice got stuck in his
throat, and for once even Lucky was deemed speechless, just silently working
some gel into Misha’s hair.

“M-m-married?” Misha uttered with
his eyes wide and squeezed the leather in his fingers.

“Oh, you might not know, but it’s
legal now. We can just do it,” said Grim, wiggling his eyebrows.