Run This Town 04 - (Watch Me) Save You

by Avril Ashton

  “I’m not all gone in my shit.” He tried not to be offended by that line of questioning, but didn’t think he pulled it off. “I can make people talk when I want to. And no, dude has no idea what she’s up to.”

  Elias grimaced. Tek expected him to say something about Tek getting blood under his fingernails. “I don’t want Stavros to know,” he said instead.

  “Done.” Tek didn’t question him. “Oh, and you can stop looking for the other men,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out the hotel room. “I dealt with them. Annika is yours.”

  ****

  When he was sure Elias had left Lisbon, Tek made his presence known to Stavros. In the lower level of his villa, Tek broke his friend’s confidence, telling Stavros about Annika’s part in Elias’ husband’s attack. The dynamics between the stepsiblings had never been one he could figure out, not that he tried very hard, but he could see that Annika’s actions had hurt Stavros.

  Being who he was, the Greek didn’t say much, nor did he show anything on his face, but Tek recognized that shell-shocked look in Stavros’ eyes.

  By telling Stavros about Annika and his father’s betrayal, Tek actually hoped they’d destroy each other. But he didn’t know if Stavros, scary fucker that he was, could hurt the woman he loved. Tek could understand, but Annika needed to die, for threatening Quinn if nothing else. And he was glad he’d told Elias about her. He trusted his friend to deal with her, while he dodged the phone calls from Quinn.

  When he finally turned the cell phone on, he had a bunch of calls from his lover, some voicemails too. All of it was Quinn, worry and fear in his voice. So Tek sent a quick two word text.

  I’m fine.

  Not even a minute later the phone rang. His heart clenched and he squeezed the phone in his hand before he answered, making sure to keep his tone cold. “Yeah.”

  “Tek.” Quinn spoke his name in a hushed, relieved breath. “What the hell? Where have you been?”

  “I’m out of the country on business,” he said softly, keeping an eye out for Stavros. He didn’t want yet another person to know about Quinn. “I’m fine.”

  “The hell you are,” Quinn yelled. “You’ve gone silent for a fucking week. You’re not answering my calls and text, and you think I’ll take your word that you’re fine?”

  “I’m fine,” Tek said, firmer this time. “I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “No. Wait.” Quinn took a breath. “Something’s wrong.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.

  He flinched at the anger in Quinn’s voice.

  “What’s happening right now?” Quinn asked softly. “With us. What’s happening right now?”

  A sound came from behind him, and Tek whirled to find Stavros standing there, in a pair of jeans, bare feet and nothing else. He was a gorgeous man, black heart aside. He pinched the bridge of his nose when Stavros held up something.

  A needle.

  “Nothing’s happening,” he murmured into the phone. “I have to go.”

  “Don’t go.” He didn’t remember Quinn begging before, and that tone slammed into Tek, the effects feeling like a throat punch. “Tek.”

  “I’m sorry.” His throat felt all scratchy and swollen. “Quinn, I’m sorry. Okay?”

  “Xiao Chen.”

  He hung up, squeezing the phone in his palm, biting deeply into his bottom lip as he spun away, giving Stavros his back. He hurt, and if he felt like this, he couldn’t imagine how Quinn might be feeling this instant.

  Hot flesh pressed against him. Stavros crowding him, a hand sliding up the back of Tek’s neck to bunch in his hair. “All good?” Stavros murmured at his ear.

  Tek held himself still. “Yeah. I just—I need…”

  “This?” The needle appeared in front of him, Stavros doing what he did best, trying to lead him down that dark aisle. But he’d never quite figured out that Tek didn’t need leading.

  “Yes.” He moaned and tilted his head, shuddering when Stavros tugged on his hair. Revulsion. So much of it, aimed mostly inward, at him. Disgust that he could be so easily controlled. With Quinn he didn’t mind it. With Quinn, he craved it.

  Stavros wasn’t Quinn. He’d never be Quinn.

  The quick pinch of the needle piercing his flesh had him flinching, had his knees buckling. Stavros caught him, held him upright with an arm around his torso. Tek was on fire, bones melting from the artificial burn. So different than the flames that ate him alive whenever Quinn touched him. False heat. But he didn’t fight this one. After all, he liked playing with fire. How else would he get burned?

  He heard his heart thumping in his chest. Was it racing up or slowing down? He couldn’t figure it out. Not with his head spinning and his vision all gray and wavering. He was moving. Floating? Until something smooth and hard appeared under him.

  Like magic.

  Like Quinn’s touch. His laugh. He wanted to catch that magic, bottle it. Keep it with him for times like these when he was lost and adrift in him. In his own head.

  Sounds filtered to him as if through a tunnel, distorted, difficult to understand.

  “Quinn.” He couldn’t be sure he spoke the name with a mouth as dry as his, lips as numb as his.

  “Who is Quinn?” Someone touched his face, and Tek blinked rapidly, trying to clear the heavy fog messing with his vision. “Tek.” A stinging slap across the face made him cry out.

  Stavros. He was with Stavros, doing what he did best. Self-destructing.

  Stavros peered down at him with surprisingly gentle eyes. “You want more?” He smiled and cupped Tek’s face with one hand, the other held up a vial of clear liquid. “You want this?”

  Tek whimpered, the back of his head hitting the floor when he nodded. “Please.”

  “Tell me about Quinn and you get more.”

  “I can’t.” He couldn’t. Quinn was his. His secret.

  “You can.” Stavros was on the floor with him, hand in Tek’s hair, mouth at his ear, and the hard press of him familiar but unwelcome. “Tell me.”

  “He’s mine,” Tek whispered. “Mine.” And just the thought of having something that belonged to him alone made his eyes burn. “You can’t have him.”

  “I don’t want him.” Stavros touched him, a hand on Tek’s naked chest, sliding down, down, down. When had he gotten naked?

  “He doesn’t want anyone else touching me.” Tek reached out, grabbed Stavros’ arm. “You can’t touch me.”

  Stavros removed his hand but he didn’t leave. “You love Quinn.”

  “No.” But even to Tek’s fucked up hearing, the word was weak.

  “But he can’t love you,” Stavros continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Why can’t he love you?”

  Got me loving you, sugar. Tek closed his eyes, trying to drown out the words. It didn’t matter that he knew them by heart now, that he spoke them to himself now. It didn’t matter.

  “Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.” Stavros licked his ear. Tek cringed. “Tell me why they can’t love you. Not Elias and not Quinn.”

  A hot tear slid out from under his lashes, running across to his ear. “I’m a freak,” he whispered brokenly. “No one will love me.”

  The hand in Tek’s hair fisted, yanking on his hair, pulling his head up. “Why? Why won’t any man love you?”

  He opened his eyes, vision clear enough to make out the face above him. “Because even my parents don’t.”

  Something flashed in the depths of Stavros eyes for a second then disappeared, replaced by a wide smile. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it” He sat back on his haunches and filled a new needle from the vial in his hand. “You want this?”

  To escape this, him? To escape himself? “Yes.”

  So Stavros gave it to him, shooting him up again, and even as he succumbed to the darkness Tek still heard himself calling out for Quinn.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tek woke with full memory of what happened, and the knowledge
that he had to deal with Stavros once and for all. They didn’t have sex, thank fuck, but now Stavros knew about Quinn.

  Unacceptable.

  While Stavros took a shower before they headed out to catch a flight for the States, Tek plugged the USB Dutch gave him into the laptop Stavros kept in his office. Of course, he didn’t think for a second that Stavros had anything of importance on that computer, but whatever was on the USB was supposed to automatically download the entire contents remotely onto Dutch’s system, so he and his IT people could search for clues on where Stavros had his important shit.

  Took less than a minute, and when the laptop dinged, he quickly yanked out the USB then shut the machine down again. Almost immediately, a text came in on his phone.

  Got it.

  Now, Tek had a call to make. He’d kept this proverbial chess move in his back pocket, sat on it for years, because before now, Stavros hadn’t been a threat.

  The phone number was a New York one. He doubted very much that the man he was calling was there.

  “Si?” The female voice on the other end was timid, almost scared.

  “Hola. Is Mr. Nieto available?”

  She hesitated then asked, “Who is it?”

  “Tell him it’s Tek Ng.” He walked out of Stavros’ villa, nodding to the guards who’d replaced the ones Elias had killed mere days ago.

  “Tek.” The rasp that masqueraded as a voice on the other end of the line never failed to send chills down Tek’s spine. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Daniel Nieto used to run the Sinaloa/Culiacan area of Mexico with his brother. Drugs. Guns. Humans. A scary human being, if he could even be called that. Today, his brother Anthony was locked up and Daniel had gone underground. That didn’t in any way make him less unpredictable or dangerous. If ever Tek could be afraid of anyone, it would be Daniel Nieto. He’d met the Nieto brothers in Mexico while on a trip with Stavros. The Konstantinous wanted to recruit the Nietos to kill for them, and Stavros had gone in person in an attempt to seal that deal. They not only said no, Daniel had laughed in Stavros’ face.

  “You wanted to know who’d killed your wife.”

  Silence reigned. “You know.”

  “I do.” Tek turned, facing Stavros’ house.

  “Tell me.” Daniel had been almost killed in that ambush. Someone had tried to strangle him with a rope around his neck. They’d almost succeeded. His vocal cords had been messed up, giving him that permanent rasp. What also wasn’t going away was the rope burn around his neck that he wore proudly, a tattooed necklace looped across his throat, singed onto his windpipe.

  “Stavros Konstantinou.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Tek shivered at the violence that dripped from those three words. “I can give you everything you need to know, and where you can find him.”

  Daniel laughed. “Where’s the fun in that, mi amigo?”

  Figured a man like that would want to chase his prey. “Whatever floats your boat.”

  “I owe you, Tek. Anything you need, anytime.”

  “I just might take you up on that.”

  ****

  On the plane he got a test from Dutch. Got something.

  The list?

  About your friend Israel. His parents.

  Tek frowned as he chanced a glance up at Stavros. Then other man had been suspiciously quiet since they got on the plane, looking as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

  What?

  When they’d been inside Rikers Island, Elias, who’d worked for the Konstantinous at the time, had bargained with Stavros to get both Tek and Israel out of prison. Tek had offered himself to Stavros in exchange for protection for his mother and a way out of the hell of Rikers. Israel didn’t need help in that area but he’d had a request. To find his birth parents since he’d been stolen at birth and raised by a woman who’d killed his stepfather and sister.

  Stavros never did find out where Israel came from. Now Dutch was saying he’d found information on Israel’s parents on Stavros’ computer?

  Konstantinou knew who they were from the very beginning.

  Tek stared at the text. So he’d found out who Israel’s birth family were, but never told him? Why, what did Stavros have to gain from withholding that information? And it was obvious he’d have to have gained something, else he’d have shared otherwise.

  Where are you? Dutch’s text read.

  Plane headed to NY.

  Senator Dulles, father. Seraphina Cook, mother.

  Tek gasped. What the fuck? The same notorious Seraphina Cook who’d ran a criminal enterprise out of Sag Harbor as her husband while the man had been dead. Elias had dealt with her. In fact he’d chosen to keep her alive when the Konstantinous had sent him to kill her. Mark Dulles was an ultra-conservative Republican senator. In favor of the Bible, guns and family. The traditional kind of family and marriage. None of that gay agenda stuff, as he would say in his public speeches. It was widely believed he’d be throwing his hat in the ring any day now for a bid for the US Presidency.

  You sure? Tek asked Dutch.

  Staring at it here in black and white, so yeah. Positive.

  Jesus fuck. Israel had to know. I need a copy of that.

  USB will be in the mailbox of your dry cleaners.

  Thanks.

  He never regretted ratting out Stavros to Daniel Nieto, but now more than ever he was really glad he’d done it. Stavros needed to be dealt with.

  When they landed in New York, he made up an excuse to see his mother and went over to the cleaners, using her laptop to go over what the USB drive contained.

  Jesus H. It was all there in black and white. All true. Everything Israel had been wanting to know for years and years.

  The ride in the car with Stavros was silent and tight after that. Tek wanted to call him on his bullshit, but he bit his tongue and kept his eyes on the prize. At his parents’ condo, Stavros simply nodded to the doorman who informed them Elias had gone up about twenty minutes prior. Tek knew what he’d find as he followed Stavros into the elevator, he wondered if the other man was prepared. Elias would leave nobody standing. That, Tek knew for sure. An action that would surely entice Stavros to lash out harder than he’d ever done.

  Stavros entered the apartment moving stiffly, cautiously.

  Someone peeled away from the shadows. Elias. “Bit late for the party.” He didn’t drop the gun he held as he watched them closely.

  Stavros’ gaze flicked from the body of his father to the two women on the floor. His shell cracked, the cold demeanor melted away, and agony flickered over his face. The pain in his eyes grew and grew, stark devastation bright.

  “She was mine,” he said, quietly, but Tek didn’t miss the danger or threat in those three words.

  “You have no idea what she did—”

  “I know what she did!” Stavros got in Elias’s face, hand around Elias’s throat in a flash, slamming him into the wall. “I know what she did and she was mine, Elias. Mine to deal with.”

  Tek moved forward, intent on pulling Stavros off Elias then stopped in his tracks. His friend could handle himself. And Tek, he had a role to play. One that did not include showing his hand just yet.

  “You told him.” Elias’ disappointment stung. “Goddamn you, Tek.”

  “Tek tells me everything,” Stavros murmured. “Given the right incentive.”

  The insinuation had Tek looking away, face hot. Having Stavros spell out his weakness was humiliating, but he’d put himself in the position. Nothing he could do about it.

  A hand on his shoulder jerked his head around and he met Elias’ heavy gaze. “So you made your choice.”

  The hurt on his face, in his eyes killed Tek. It was a physical thing he didn’t know how to process. Pushing Elias away when he’d ached to get closer for so long. He felt Stavros’ eyes on them so Tek lunged at Elias, pressing against him with a hand at his hip, brushing his lips over Elias’ for a feather-light second. Then he pushed Elias away and strode o
ver to stand at Stavros’ side.

  He saw how that act affected Elias. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Anguish burned in his friend’s eyes. “Tek.”

  He wished he could make Elias understand his actions, but he couldn’t. So instead he handled the answering ache inside him.

  “Tek is mine.” Stavros’s mask was back in place, his tone brusque, eyes freezing. “You know what that means, don’t you, Elias?”

  Elias knew. Of course he did. At one time it had been him at Stavros’ side, in his bed. But where Elias had the strength and the courage to tell Stavros to fuck off, to take what he wanted without caring about the consequences, Tek didn’t have that luxury.

  He’d never had the luxury. Protecting the men he loved was… it was all he could do. Even if they didn’t reciprocate. Even though he wouldn’t ever have what he wanted, he’d do whatever he could. And that making sure Stavros didn’t hurt Elias and his family. That meant keeping his distance from Quinn. What he needed, no one could give. Past time he realized that. Past time he released his grip on whatever it was he was clinging to in an attempt to keep his head above water.

  He was ever closer to sinking.

  And he would.

  Soon.

  Elias stared at them, Tek and Stavros, at the bodies, the blood all around them. Realization widened his eyes and he swiped a hand over his mouth.

  “Tek.” His voice broke. “Don’t. I don’t need your protection.”

  He didn’t know what he needed. “You should leave.” Tek didn’t know where the calm came from. “Before you can’t.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” Elias came to him, touched him, his face, his fingertips moist with the blood on his hands. “You don’t owe me anything, don’t protect me.”

  But it was Tek’s turn. To protect him. To be responsible for him. To sacrifice for him. He didn’t speak the words, though. He simply stared at Elias, at the grief, the sorrow in his friend’s blue eyes.

  After a while, Elias shook his head. Grim acceptance tightening his jaw. “You know where I’ll be if you need me,” he said as he walked to the elevator. He flicked his gaze to Stavros. “I hope we never see each other again.”