His Favorite Color is Blood - Coffin Nails MC (gay biker dark romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 8) (35 page)

He hid his head and face as bits
of rubble landed all around, along with a wave of heat, but as soon as the
worst was over, Grim glanced behind the chimney. He used the moment of
distraction provided by the crash that was still heating up his back and darted
forward, noticing a flash of bright color behind a chimney across the roof.
Fuck
.
So Zero was on the other side now. Tough luck. Grim was out for blood, and he
would sink his teeth into the fucker eventually.

Grim looked at the useless
assault rifle. He’d sent all the bullets at the helicopter before it crashed,
so he threw it to the ground to get rid of the excess weight. Unfortunately,
Zero wasn’t out of ammo, and Grim almost earned himself a bullet in the face,
but he dropped to the ground in time.

With the fire blazing behind him
and Zero still with fuck knew how many bullets, Grim crawled forward over the
rubble until he could hide behind a metal cabinet someone had left there. He
held one of his knives in his bleeding hand and gripped the handle hard despite
the pain. He would not be stopped.

Another bullet flew above his
head. As it seemed, Zero wasn’t that good of a shot.

Grim smirked and looked at his
reflection in the blade, staying motionless and quiet to listen to whatever
move Zero would make next. Grim could bet it wasn’t often for the bastard to
find himself up against a predator without trusty bodyguards at his side. Just
like many of Grim’s kills before him, Zero believed himself to be top dog, but
a top tier predator didn’t need company to do the deed.

He exhaled. “Your first mistake
was insisting for us to play a game that you can’t win,” he called out, slowly
turning behind the cabinet so he could get to his knees at any time. The debris
dug into his skin, but he didn’t care. “You’re always after the weakest prey,
and it has you so used to getting what you want that you don’t take into
account that you should know who you’re up against.”

“Listen,” Zero yelled back, and
Grim focused on following the voice to make sure the scum wasn’t moving. “We
got off on the wrong foot, but I could use a man like you. I have connections
all over the world. You could be drinking champagne with Misha in Dubai
tomorrow! I’ve got the means, I hold no grudge over my men, or the helicopter.
I’ve clearly met my match.”

Grim laughed. “Bullshit. I have
killed over a hundred men on my own, and most of them were far better shots than
you. You will die here unless I have a fancy to remove your legs and arms
first.”

There was a noise of metal
hitting the roof to his side, but no footsteps. A bluff. Did Zero expect him to
dash over there while he tried his luck with the last few bullets in his gun?

Grim smiled and pinched his
fingers over the blade of his knife, readying himself for action. “I could take
your tongue as well. And I would definitely take your cock.” Grim exhaled
deeply and leaned closer to the side of the cabinet, as Zero would expect him
to emerge vertically. “And I would sell you to your own underground ...” He
leaned out from behind the cabinet.

He would have laughed if that
didn’t betray his position. Zero was aiming at the other side, red in the face
and not a fraction as dignified as he was when he had swanned around Misha and
Grim not so long ago, flaunting his tiny dick.

Grim’s knife flew through the air
and struck Zero’s wrist. Grim got to his feet, chasing the speed of the blood
pounding in his veins as he charged at Zero, pushing him against the chimney
and slamming his fist into Zero’s gut. The man toppled over with a grunt,
unable to fight back and holding on to his stomach. His gun lay on the ground,
and his wrist bled all over the light-colored suit.

When Grim was about to hit him
again, Zero went for a punch to Grim’s crotch. Grim’s eyes almost popped out of
his head as searing pain spread down his thighs and up his stomach. His brain
couldn’t comprehend any man sinking so low. Folded in half, he didn’t manage to
shield himself from a blow to the head and stumbled back, desperately trying to
will his body to move again.

He knew exactly where Zero would
be going. He was already stumbling forward and reaching for the gun like a pig
searching for truffles. His suit was dirty beyond repair, and soon it would be
soaked in blood.

Grim dashed behind him and swung
his other knife right above Zero’s heel, cutting his Achilles’s tendon. The
shock of pain gave Grim enough time to pick himself up and charge. This time,
he didn’t play around and just threw in two punches straight in that handsome,
ageless face.

Unable to hold his weight on the
injured leg, Zero fell back, his wide eyes trained on Grim. When he fell to the
floor of the roof, a rusty metal rod fixed in the concrete pierced through his
shoulder and now stuck straight up, as if Zero were a moth pinned to a corkboard.
All Grim now needed to do was pick off his wings and legs one by one.

Zero screamed out and tried to
pull himself up, but Grim put his shoe on the man’s chest and pushed him right
back down. He’d never felt this satisfied to see someone cry as he did now.

But Zero held up his hand,
squeezing something in his sweaty palm, his gaze still determined. “This isn’t
over!” he yelled in a manic high pitch. “I can still have your little boy die!
There’s explosives downstairs. Blowing you all up was what I was planning in
the first place. I’ve had enough …” He had to stop talking for a second to
swallow. “If you try to kill me now, you and your boy are going down with me!”

Grim’s skin tingled, and he
alternated between hot and cold as he slowly lowered his body, still pushing
Zero down with his shoe. The fucker could be bluffing to save his hide, but
what if he wasn’t? The man was desperate enough to blow himself up with the
building, just to spare himself the torture.

Grim’s thoughts went to Misha
waiting for him downstairs. “You’re like a movie villain, you know that?
Waiting ‘til the last moment to tell me about your evil plan.”

Zero was heaving. “I’ve got no
witty comeback,” he rasped. “You help me get out of this alive or you and your
boy die. It will only take one push of a button. If we struggle for th—”

Grim sliced right through Zero’s
throat and kicked at the hand holding the device, but as dark blood spilled all
over Zero’s white shirt and expensive suit, the roof shook under Grim’s feet,
and he had to grab the blood-covered rod for balance. There was no satisfaction
in Zero’s darkening eyes, as explosions drummed within the hospital, a clear
sign Grim’s decision to risk and kill Zero didn’t pay off. The bastard managed
to squeeze the remote as the last thing he’d ever do.

Chapter 28 - Grim

Instead of reveling in Zero’s
death, a million questions flooded Grim’s mind with dread. Were Misha and
Dennis still down in that same room where he left them? Would they have left
the building? Were the explosives planted only on the first floor? Would the
whole building collapse?

None of these questions could be
answered by Zero who convulsed under Grim’s shoe. With the helicopter furiously
burning on the other side of the roof, the only entrance into the building was
blocked, and Grim’s decision needed to be fast. Just seeing the flames had Grim
on the edge, but he would not go down without a fight.

He looked around, breathing hard
as he paced close to Zero’s body. The bastard’s death had been far too easy,
but in this situation, he couldn’t risk separating and transporting body parts
to present them to Misha. Getting out of here alive was a priority.

Grim ran up to the edge of the
roof and looked down, only to see bright light trembling at the bottom of the
building. He could almost taste the flames on his tongue already. At least the
hospital hadn’t collapsed yet, but there was no time to waste. The windows in
the floor below didn’t have any bars to block them, and Grim leaned out,
squinting to make sure the one he chose had no glass left as well.

Sink or swim.

He pulled out the garotte he’d
carried in here strapped to his underwear and ran over to the chimney to attach
it. He checked whether it could withstand a pull, but since it stayed in place,
he ran to the edge of the roof. He would not have another innocent boy
swallowed by flames.

His heart hurt, as if someone
stabbed it, and for a moment, he led himself to believe that Zero somehow had stayed
alive and attacked him from behind. But no, there wasn’t any blood, just
another way for his body to make him move.

He climbed on the ledge, and the
world became a bit fuzzy when he looked below. He’d done many things he wasn’t
proud of, but letting Coy burn was something he had never forgiven himself for.
He needed to find Misha and take him out of here alive. No flames would deter
him, and no smoke would stop him.

He took one more deep breath,
already smelling the burning air below as he curled the garotte around his
gloved hands. In case it didn’t hold, he’d try to grab onto the window ledge
with his feet and pull himself up. It would be okay.

His life started scrolling in his
mind as he trailed through the air with nothing but a wire keeping him from
crashing down and breaking every bone in his body. He stopped breathing and
pushed his legs forward as the empty window came closer. The movie in Grim’s
head paused when he flew inside, but instead of swinging up only to land on his
feet like they would in the movies, the glide was interrupted by a snap, and
his speed and mass combined shoved him down on his ass and back.

He was hurting and his spine
ached, but none of it mattered as long as he was capable of moving. Zero was
dead, while Misha could be trapped somewhere without a way out. Despite the
pain spreading all over, a few movements assured Grim that nothing important—namely
his back—was broken, and he tumbled to his feet and rushed outside. The breath
of heat reached him as soon as he darted into the corridor, and panic squeezed
at his brain.

“Misha!”

“Logan!” The scream was faint,
but it wasn’t just Grim’s imagination. Somewhere, in that pit of fire, Misha
was still alive and in need of help. Unlike all those years ago, there was no
one here to hold Grim back and make the choice for him.

“I’m coming for you!” he screamed
and ran down the grand staircase, fighting through the stiffness in his
muscles. Everything about this warned him of danger, and his body brought him
right back to the moment when, years ago, he had rushed to open the door of the
burning house, only to have a flame scorch his brows before a relative pulled
him back.

By the time he reached the second
floor, his lungs were already burning with the scratching smoke, which seemed
to lick the underside of the stairs above. He wanted to rush right down to where
Misha was, but when he looked there, an inferno of fire made him freeze, as if
the heat somehow turned the fluids in his body into crystal.

“Help! We’re here!” Dennis
yelled, but with the fire blazing, Grim’s senses were running amok. Only the
logical part of Grim’s brain convinced him that they clearly couldn’t have been
on the burning staircase, so he darted down the corridor to the next way down.

His shoes were like a dead weight
on Grim’s legs as he rushed to a narrow shaft that must have been used by the
staff back in the day. Simple and devoid of ornaments that many of the
corridors boasted. When he opened the door to the staircase, blazing heat
smashed into his face, robbing him of breath. It was as if his legs put down
roots in the floor. The wooden stairs were burning all the way to the next
floor. It took all of Grim’s will not to run, but when he saw movement below,
he managed to fight through the terror that kept him immobile.

Emerging out of the smoke, Dennis
carried Misha on his back, struggling up step by step and stumbling against the
wall. The flames were licking the air closely to their clothes and hair, but
Grim couldn’t bring himself to call out to them. He remembered Dennis’s thin
legs all too well. Soon enough, Dennis would topple over and send Misha into
the fire. He couldn’t let that happen.

Grim descended the stairs,
hugging the wall with one shoulder as he sprinted to the landing below. The
flames were leaving burns without even touching him. “Give him to me,” he
rasped, feeling a surge of panic when Dennis’s whole body shook with a loud
cough.

He didn’t have to repeat himself.
Dennis dropped to his knees on the stairs and Misha’s teary eyes finally met
Grim’s. Only when Grim grabbed his hand and pulled him into his arms did he
realize the heaviness of the weight of guilt and regret that he’d carried on
his shoulders. He would save Misha from this building whatever it took. Misha
curled up in his arms as if he belonged there, but there was no time for
questions about Zero or what happened downstairs.

Dennis got up as soon as he could
and stumbled into the second floor, chased by fingers made of smoke and fire.
Grim pulled Misha hard to his hip and rushed forward, his eyes firmly on the
way out. There were no bars in most of the windows there, and it wasn’t high
enough not to risk a jump. What was a broken leg in comparison to burning
alive?

Focused on the sweet weight in
his arms, Grim was surprised to see Dennis open his eyes wide, but then a loud
crack sent a storm of sparks down on him and Misha. He fell to his knees and
propped himself over Misha when a blast of unimaginable pain tore into the skin
of his arm. He sank over Misha, squeezing him against the floor, but one look
into his frightened face was enough to fuel Grim’s remaining strength. He
screamed out and pushed himself up, pressing against the flaming weight that
sent the same searing sensation all over Grim’s cheek and head. Flames were
dancing all around him, but he would not let them touch Misha.

The whole world was red, and when
Grim looked down at his lover, who was rapidly crawling out from underneath
him, yelling, Grim was struck by a high incomparable with anything in his life.
His body felt numb, as if he skinned himself and dusted the flesh with
first-grade cocaine. His lungs were filled with liquid fire and his eyes
clouded. Misha looked back at him, saying something in a high pitch, but his
words couldn’t reach Grim through the thudding sound of blood in his ears.
Dennis joined them, and he grabbed Grim’s hand alongside Misha, who pulled on
the other, gritting his teeth.

Grim’s body convulsed, and he
finally moved, pushing his legs up and crawling. The giant charring log that
settled on his shoulder rolled off, crashing on the stairs below, and he
crawled on the landing. Darkness descended on him, but as multiple hands patted
him down with what now felt like fabric, Grim went limp when his brain stopped
scrambling. The piece of clothing was pulled back, and Grim stared at the floor
as pain broke through to his brain. At first, his leather-encased shoulder
ached, but as seconds passed, the insidious agony felt by every pore on the
side of his face and neck surpassed it.

He was seeing bright lights in
front of his eyes, and a hint of burnt meat made him heave a few times, but
Misha still managed to grab his attention.

“We’ve got you. Can you walk?” he
asked as if he could carry Grim now.

Grim shivered, trying to suppress
another bout of nausea. He was seeing double, but he would take Misha out of
here. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself up, looking down at his lover.

“We need to go,” he breathed, and
for once he wasn’t sure what the horrified expression on this lovely face
meant. “I’ll take you ...”

Dennis was the first one to run
down the corridor despite limping, and even though Grim registered it before,
only now he truly noticed that Dennis was wearing Misha’s pants and Misha was
in just his underwear and T-shirt. All his delicate skin and flesh could be
exposed to fire at any moment.

“I can go on all fours,” Misha
said quickly, already moving forward.

Grim wouldn’t let him and pulled
him up with a strength he didn’t know he had anymore. There was no way he’d let
Misha stay behind. “On my back, quick ... you need to be outside,” he uttered,
briefly losing balance as the pain clawed at his brain. Even his knees were
shivering.

The floor seemed hot, or maybe it
was just his dazed imagination. Misha held on tight to Grim’s shoulders, and
Grim didn’t feel pain anymore. All he knew was that his body needed to move,
even if swaying from side to side on its own accord.

“Here!” Dennis yelled and waved
his hand toward a room at the end of the corridor.

Grim coughed, squeezing one hand
on Misha’s forearm, where it pressed against his body, and ran. Misha’s
survival was his sole reason to still exist. “Hold on,” he muttered, trying not
to stumble, even though his feet were dragging for no reason. His mind was
resisting the force that was trying to pull it into a spin, but by the time he
rushed into the same room as Dennis, the edges of his vision were already
fuzzy. Without a second thought, he moved to the empty window and looked out.

Only one floor, and the window
below had bars in it. To the side was a drainpipe they could try to use for
climbing down. Some bushes could soften their fall if they didn’t make it.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”
Misha whispered and kissed the back of Grim’s head.

Grim’s gaze swung toward Dennis,
who eyed the light dancing over the ground below with a stiffened expression.
Grim smirked and put his leg over the bottom of the window frame, already
reaching for the drainpipe. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promised, fighting
against the weight that was pulling him down and the painful stretch on his
skin.

Dennis nodded but looked back, as
if expecting the fire to rush inside like a contract killer.

“Stay right behind us,” Misha
added, holding on tightly to Grim with his arms and legs.

“Thank you,” Dennis choked out,
following onto the window ledge as soon as Grim made some room for him.

Grim struggled to uncurl his
fingers and hold on to the pipe, but as he reached out, the burning sensation
on the left side of his body opened its screaming mouth. Grim choked out a
scream and swung forward, clinging to the pipe for dear life as the metal that
held it against the façade cut into his finger. “Fuck ... fuck,” he muttered,
trying to lower himself slowly and fighting against Misha’s weight that
suddenly was too much to bear.

“I’ll be okay,” Misha whispered
into his ear, and before Grim could understand those words, Misha slid a bit
lower down Grim’s body, and … let go. This was one weight Grim never wanted off
his shoulders.

Misha yelped as he fell, and the
crack of bushes told Grim that he was down, but his face and neck hurt so bad
he couldn’t even turn around to check if Misha hadn’t impaled himself on some
horrific piece of metal hiding under the plants.

“I’m fine!” Misha yelled, though
it had a whine to it that made Grim want to desperately get down and check if
he truly was all right.

He briefly considered letting go
of the drainpipe, but that could send him straight on top of Misha, so he
started to move down as originally planned. Each movement felt as if new wounds
were opening in Grim’s flesh, but he kept lowering himself, not even afraid of
the flames that broke through the windows at his side anymore. The touch of
solid ground beneath his feet was a shock to his system.

Dennis was right behind him, and
Misha crawled toward Grim with a crown of leaves adorning his head. The fire
storming through the building right next to them brought out shadows on his
lovely face. Relief of being out of that hellpit was so immense Grim’s knees
went soft and his vision blurred.

Grim reached out to Misha, but
his legs gave out on him, and he fell into the high grass, trying to catch his
breath as his windpipe refused to work and reduced Grim’s breathing to a
panicked rasp. He batted his hand around, not sure anymore where he could find
Misha.