by Avril Ashton
Dutch gave a little nod, as if he’d anticipated Tek’s response. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, lips curving despite the hardness in his eyes.
“I try not to disappoint.”
The door opened behind Tek, and he stepped to the side as Renzo Vega stepped inside then closed the door again.
“What’d I miss?” Renzo asked.
Tek barely tolerated working with that guy, and now that he knew what went down with Renzo and Quinn, it took everything in him not to throat punch the club owner.
“I was just about to tell Mr. Ng here why he should divorce himself off his loyalty to Stavros Konstantinou.”
“Ah.” Renzo walked over to Dutch and leaned against the wall, both of them staring at Tek like he was some kind of child in need of discipline.
“You two gonna make this quick?” He glanced down at his wrist, at a non-existent watch. “Got much more interesting places to be.”
“As we speak, the Konstantinous have declared war on your pal,” Dutch said. “You know, the one with the husband and the kid and the not-so-secret job of killing on the side.”
Elias? Tek kept everything off his face as he stared at Dutch. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then let me enlighten you.” The calm in Dutch’s voice gave way to sharp, urgent anger. “I was with Elias, in LA when he got the call from his husband. They broke into the house and terrorized Lucky and their child, and then they called Elias via video to show him what they’d done.” Dutch paused and shook his head. “They also chose that way to let Lucky know everything. And I do mean everything.”
What? Tek swallowed. Acting like he didn’t care was hard work. But he did. He cared. He worried. For Elias, and by extension the family he’d managed to build. “What happened?”
Dutch leaned back in his chair, watching Tek closely. “They beat up Lucky, but thankfully didn’t touch the child. I think that marriage is over. Surviving all those secrets? Impossible.”
Why did Tek get the feeling the agent was speaking from experience?
“What do you want from me?” He needed to call Elias, make sure his friend was okay.
“There’s a possibility Stavros might have a list of names of some of my undercover agents. All the agents on my Task Force,” Dutch said grimly. “He might keep it for himself, he could sell it on the Dark Net to the highest bidder. Either way, a list like that in the hands of the enemy is unacceptable.”
“This concerns me how?” He couldn’t go against Stavros, not yet. He had his mother to think about. And Quinn.
“I want that list back.” Dutch crossed his arm and leveled his gaze on Tek. “Get me that list, and I’ll take over protection of your mother.”
“Ha.” Tek doubled over laughing. “I know your sales pitch is better than that.”
“I’d think that you of all people would want away from that bastard,” Renzo spoke up. “Get that list and we’ll owe you.”
“What I want is to not be used to further whatever agenda you have against the Konstantinous,” Tek told Dutch. “I’ve got way too much on my plate than to be caught in the middle of your shit.”
“That list is way too important to leave in Stavros’ hands,” Dutch said. “It’ll be open season on my agents. Tell me you don’t see that.”
Tek huffed. “What I see, Agent Hutchins, is your very poor and transparent attempt to get me to do your dirty work. Not happening. You want Stavros, you go get him. Just prepare for casualties. In the meantime, you know where to find me when you decide to arrest me.”
“We’re not done.”
Tek chuckled as he turned his back and walked out. “We were done the moment I walked in.”
He didn’t allow the impact of Dutch’s words to hit him until he was inside his car. Tek gripped the steering wheel as he tried to think. Should he call Elias, check in with him?
Stavros sent men after Elias’s family. Why? Tek didn’t get it. Didn’t they have an understanding that had been working fine for all these years? What happened to make Stavros want to blow Elias’s world apart? Obviously he had to know Elias would be gunning for him. He had to know Elias would push back, and harder.
He picked up his phone and dialed Israel. When his friend answered on the second ring, Tek blew out a breath. “Is, what the fuck is going on?”
“It’s not good.”
Tek swore. “How is he? And why is Stavros doing this now?”
“He’s a fucking wreck, man.” Israel huffed. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
Fuck. “What do you need me to do?”
Israel didn’t speak.
“Is?”
“Why do you need to be here?”
Tek frowned. “What? He’s family, our family. Why else would I be there?”
“Why else, huh? How is Quinn?”
“Is.” Tek touched the back of his head with a shaking hand. “What—”
“Let’s stop pretending I don’t know how you feel about Elias, shall we?” Israel said. “Let’s also not pretend I don’t know you’ve got something going on with Quinn. I bet you haven’t told him anything about anything.”
“Now’s not the right time.” He never thought he’d be justifying himself to Israel of all people.
“There is never a right time to tell the man you’re trying to fuck that you’ve spent the past how many years loving and obsessing over another man. Never the perfect time to tell him you’ll be marrying a woman or that you’re inheriting the biggest sex trafficking operation out there.” Israel’s words halted as quickly as they’d started. “But you tell him any way, if you care about him. If you don’t care, you shouldn’t even be near him.”
“What the fuck, Is? That’s not why I called.”
“I know it’s not.” Israel sighed. “But I’m here watching one brother’s world shatter in real time because of the secrets and the lies. You need to handle yours, Tek. Focus on what you have. On who wants you. Because you’ll lose it, just like Elias is losing his right now.”
“I want to be there for him.”
“You don’t have that right,” Israel told him, point blank. “You never did. Don’t you think it’s time you accepted that?”
Tek didn’t answer him, instead he cut off the call and slammed the phone down on the seat next to him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t scolded himself, hadn’t used those same words a million times on himself. Hearing Israel speak them though, that hurt him.
Because they were all true.
He watched Quinn put the life he’d shared with Xavier in the past. He watched his lover discard everything from the past. It all looked so easy, like nothing at all. So why couldn’t Tek do it? Why did his heart do that running leap thing when he’d heard that Elias’s marriage could possibly be over? Why was it his first thought to drop everything and rush to Elias’s rescue?
Funny how before Elias’s name was brought up, Tek had been all about Quinn. All about the newness of them and the way Quinn made him feel, the way he handled his body. He’d wanted nothing more than to spend the day in bed, lying next to Quinn, listening to him breathe, touching his skin.
How was it that he could want that, crave it, but still have his heart leap at the mention of Elias? Did he not care enough for Quinn?
That couldn’t be true. He refused to believe that. Israel was right. He had to accept things the way they were, not the way he wanted them to be. Despite everything, Elias had been there for him. He’d helped him, protected him. If Tek could reciprocate he would every time. And he’d do it because it was the right thing to do.
He drove back to his place and jumped into the shower after checking in with Quinn. They had plans to meet up later but he’d have to deal with his father and the business first. He felt like a kid, trying to fill shoes way to big, way too tight and constricting. It didn’t fit, this world his father insisted he inhabit.
And why had Tek tried to force it? Why was he suffering like this?
Ap
proval. It all came down to having his father’s approval. He’d found that no matter what, he’d do anything if only to have his father meet his eyes again.
He huffed and stepped out the shower, wiping water from his face. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face before he froze. The hair on his nape shot up. He grabbed the gun on the underside of the sink and crept out the bathroom slowly, on wet feet.
He hadn’t imagined the perfume.
She sat near the window, long legs crossed, lips pursed. She wore black, jeans and a close fitting top under a leather jacket. The high-heeled boots went up to mid-calf on her as she sat there all regal, flanked by three men in suits. Their guns were trained on him.
Tek stood there in all his naked glory, water dripping from his hair and sliding down his face. “Annika, I don’t recall extending an invite.”
She waved a hand. “We have business to discuss.” He didn’t like the way she eyed him, predatory.
“Wasn’t aware we were in business together.” He didn’t lower his gun, and her men didn’t either.
“You work for my brother, you work for me.”
“I don’t work for your brother.” Tek scowled. “Please explain why you’re in my house.”
“There’s someone I need you to take care.”
“No can do.”
His phone buzzed on the table next to her and she picked it up with a smile. “I miss you. Isn’t that sweet.” She lifted her head and smiled at him. “Found someone to tolerate you, huh?”
Tek blinked.
“Quinn,” she read aloud. “Gorgeous man.”
He gritted his teeth, regretting ever putting Quinn’s image and name on his phone. “Do not say his name again.”
“I won’t, just as long as you do what I say. I want someone dealt with and you’re the perfect man for the job.”
“I’m not killing for you. I’m not working for you.”
She pouted. “That’s just too bad. Now I’m going to have to send Charlie here after your Quinn.” She licked her lips. “Charlie likes when they fight.” She grinned at the man to her right. “Don’t you Charlie?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Charlie bared his teeth. “Love a good fight, gets my blood pumping.”
“Fucking bitch.”
“Tek, let me make it clear so you understand. If you don’t do what I say, I will send my men to Quinn Storm’s place where they’ll fuck him after spilling all your secrets. Including the one where you were riding my dildo not too long ago.”
He held his hands out in surrender. The men didn’t move from Annika’s side even though he could tell from their scowls that they really wanted him dead.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“You’re friends with Elias Kote. Close, personal friends, correct?”
He nodded.
“Then he won’t see a bullet from you coming.” She got to her feet. “Make it happen. You know what will happen if you don’t.”
“You’re who sent those men after his family.” He saw that now, but why?
“My father and I did, yes.” Her eyes danced when she said, “There’s something about watching men like you and him suffer by hitting you where you least expect it… the heart.” She clapped her hands. “Phil and Dave tell me they had the best time with Elias’s husband.” She turned to the man on her left. “Lucky, was it?”
Dude nodded. “Yes.”
So these were the men she’d sent after Elias’s family. Tek squared his shoulders. He’d have to rectify that shit and it wasn’t because of what they’d done to Elias. They were monsters, and Tek had practice dealing with monsters.
“Quinn is off limits,” he said as he stepped in front of the couch. “That’s not a question, it’s just the way it is. You want me to do what you ask, Quinn remains unharmed. Do we understand each other?”
“I’ll think about it. But don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t find a way to reach out and touch your Quinn if you don’t do what I asked. I want Elias Kote dead.” She walked past him. “Make it happen.”
He called Renzo on his way to Quinn’s house. “Let me talk to Dutch,” he barked when Renzo answered.
Dutch must have been right there, waiting for his call, because two seconds later he came on the line. “Mr. Ng.”
“I’ll get that list,” he said. “But first I’m gonna need some things in return.”
Chapter Sixteen
Maybe he’d been a bit hasty in making this decision. Quinn’s stomach cramped something fierce and his palms were wet with sweat.
This is such a bad idea.
The cab ride from Israel’s place in Queens to here in Brooklyn hadn’t been nearly enough time to get his thoughts sorted. He glanced from the address he’d typed into the notepad app on his phone to the building in front of him. Yep. One and the same. He stared up at the condo. Israel said Xavier and his— and Dima lived there.
The view couldn’t be beat. The water, the buildings from Lower Manhattan looming in the near distance.
Israel had asked over and over if Quinn knew what he was doing. If he would be okay doing this alone. He’d said yes. Now, he wasn’t so sure. The idea of seeing Xavier again was daunting, terrifying. But Quinn wanted, needed, to put this behind him. He needed to tell his ex-husband some things. Explain some things and he wanted to get back to Atlanta and Tek.
He took a deep breath, walked up to the main entrance and into the building. The bank of elevators to his right would take him up to Xavier’s floor.
Fuck. Quinn’s knees shook. Still, he got on and tapped the number to the top floor with a frown. Would Xavier be pissed at Israel for giving Quinn his address? That could be considered a violation and Quinn hadn’t even thought about it. He’d just been so damn grateful.
Shit.
The last thing he wanted was to create some kind of rift between the cousins.
Far too quickly the elevator came to a stop and opened with a muted whoosh. Trepidation hunched his shoulders as he stepped out and walked the few steps to Xavier’s door. He knocked before the nerves took him over. Just this time, to put his past behind him, then he’d be able to move on.
The door opened.
He blinked.
Dima stood there, shirtless. Head cocked to the side, he stared at Quinn steadily. Quinn gaped at him, his mind blanking temporarily. He was covered in tattoos. And somehow Quinn had forgotten about the near half a dozen piercings all over his face.
He was fucking fierce and dangerous and strangely beautiful as he stood there in low slung jeans, bare feet, and holding a gray cat.
“Quinn.”
Quinn flinched. “I’m— Dima. I’m sorry. I was—”
“Expecting Xavier?”
Quinn met his gaze. He didn’t know what to look for in their dark depths and he found nothing but questions staring back at him. “Yes. I was looking for Xavier.”
Dima nodded once as the cat in his arms jumped to the floor and sashayed off. “He’s not home yet.” He held the door open wider and stepped aside. “Come in.”
“Uh…” Quinn licked his lips. “Are you sure?” He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for having your lover’s ex-husband show up unexpectedly on your doorstep, but Dima was being very amiable. For some reason that put Quinn on edge.
“Yep.” Dima turned away and began walking into the house. “Come on in.”
So Quinn did, closing the door softly behind him. He followed Dima through the house. He looked around as he went, fingers curled painfully into his palm. He shouldn’t be here. Panic choked him. He stopped just behind Dima in what looked like the dining area.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
Dima spun, sizing him up as something flickered in his gaze. Something Quinn couldn’t decipher but really wished he could. “But here you are, Quinn. Why?”
“I wanted—” That stare was intimidating as fuck, but damn if Quinn was going to let Dima make him sweat more than he already was. “I wanted to see Xavier.
“So you said.” Dima pursed his lips. “By my calculations you and Mr. Storm haven’t laid eyes on each other in over five years. Until recently, which was not by mutual consent we both know. So again, I ask, why are you here?”
“I need to talk to him.” He refused to feel guilty about that.
“You don’t say.”
“Mr. Quinn?”
Quinn spun at the teary female voice. “Carol!” He rushed to the housekeeper, barging into her arms, hugging her tight as she sobbed.
“Mr. Quinn, you’re here.” She lifted her head, tears streaming down her face, and cupped his jaw. “And you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Carol.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “You’re still here?” he asked incredulous. “You’re still taking care of him?”
“Somebody has to.” She smiled through her tears, lips trembling. “How have you been? Where?”
“I’ve been… surviving,” he told her honestly. “Atlanta is home now.” He released her and stepped back. “We’ll catch up later, yes.” He wiped a tear from her cheek when she nodded. Pressing their foreheads together, he whispered, “I’m sorry for leaving like I did, but thank you for watching over him. Okay?” He turned from her, facing the room again.
Dima wasn’t there.
“He’s on the balcony.” Carol pointed to a door. “Through there.” The confusion on her face couldn’t be missed, but Quinn simply nodded his thanks and went through the door she’d indicated.
Xavier’s lover stood on the balcony overlooking the East River with the breathtaking views of Lower Manhattan, staring out at the distance. The tattoos on his back were equally impressive as the ones on his front.
“Dima.” Quinn walked over and stood next to him. “I’m sorry for just appearing on your doorstep like this.”
After a short pause, Dima spoke without looking at him. “I’m fully aware of your life with Xavier, Quinn. I know every fucked up detail of what you’ve been through, so I can’t help but feel for you.”