by Avril Ashton
“Your opinion never mattered. But Quinn…” He blinked.
“His opinion and approval matters. Because you love him.”
“Yes.” Just that one, small word, but it was filled with so much wonder that it staggered Tek. “Yes.”
His friend grinned. “What are you going to do about it?”
What was he going to do? Before he could answer, Israel strode into the kitchen.
“Tek, listen—”
“Fuck you, Is.” He never thought he’d ever feel this kind of anger toward his friend. Never thought Israel would betray him, hang him out to dry like he’d done. “What you did today? What you did to Quinn? I will never forgive you.”
“You blaming me because your lies came back to bite you in the ass?” Israel poked his own chest. “Are you fucking serious right now, duke?”
“I was going to tell him,” Tek shouted. “One on one, me and him. But you took that way.”
“You took too fucking long,” Israel snarled. “You should’ve been done it, man. Save us all this shit. I’m fucking exhausted watching you destroy yourself. You think I was gonna sit around for you to do the same to him?”
Tek blanched
“Is.” Elias touched Israel’s shoulder. “Don’t talk to him like that.”
“Nah.” Israel shrugged away Elias’ hold. “Maybe if we’d done this way back when we wouldn’t be here.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I love you,” he said firmly. ‘The both of you, I love you. You my brothers, man. But I’ve had it up to fucking here with the secrets. I can’t deal with it anymore. I can’t. And it shouldn’t be okay to keep shit like what you’ve been through, what you’re going through with the man you love.”
Tek started walking away. He wasn’t going to stand around and listen to Israel justify his shitty behavior.
“Is, you have no say in how we live our lives,” Elias said. “What works for you definitely won’t work for Tek or even me.”
“If it affects the people I care about, I will have a say.”
Tek shook his head. “You know what?” He turned and faced Israel. “I’m out. If this is how you treat your brother, you should find another one because I’m done being yours.”
“Tek. Wait, damn it.”
He ignored Elias’ calls as he hurried out the door. He didn’t care about Israel and his shit. Right now he only had Quinn in his sights.
****
Took him two days to get back to Atlanta. He blew up Quinn’s phone, but it wasn’t as though he expected his lover to answer. Still, he didn’t let up. He had to fight for them. Losing Quinn wasn’t an option. Not now.
Not ever.
As he headed over to Quinn’s place he got a call from Jonny, letting him know they were expected to oversee a fresh transport. Which meant he had to turn around and head to a Goddamn abandoned mall parking lot in Lithonia, armed with only his Glock and Jonny as his back up.
Damn it.
He sent a text to Dutch, giving him a heads up, then tried to put thoughts of Quinn on the back burner. The last thing he needed to be was distracted in a meet like this. It made his skin crawl, what he had to do, the people he had to interact with in this business. He had no idea how his father started on this course, what made him think it was okay to buy and sell people as easily as he’d done the counterfeit Rollies and handbags down on Canal.
Why?
He’d never asked his father that question. Probably too afraid of the answer.
Jonny was waiting for him when he rounded the curve to the eerily silent strip mall, a victim of the economy. Tek opened the front passenger side door for Jonny and sped off as he got in. Inside the mall’s parking lot a semi waited for them, lights off, only the red-orange glow of cigarettes alerted them to anyone’s presence.
“Ready?” he asked Jonny.
“Oh yeah.”
Together they got out and walked up to the truck. Men peeled away from the shadows, approaching with guns drawn. Big guns too. The ones Tek tried not play around with.
“Put that shit away,” he snapped. “Show me my merchandise.”
“Sorry.” The tallest of the four men, burly and intimidating as he hovered over Tek in black, baggy jeans and an oversized black hoodie, motioned for the others to open the back of the truck.
Tek stepped back, arms crossed, trying damn hard to keep the disgust off his face. Once the truck was opened, he got inside and looked around. They had rigged up a cord of some sort and a bulb provided some light, more than enough for him to see the women crammed together.
They smelled like vomit, unwashed bodies, human waste and fear.
His nose twitched.
Some didn’t meet his eyes, others, the more brave ones did, watching him watch them. Others whimpered, some cried, begging to go home. He clamped his jaw tight and turned away.
Someone grabbed his pant leg, halting his retreat. “Please. Please don’t do this.”
He looked down, stilling himself as he met big, brown eyes. She was a beauty under the grime on her face and the wild, matted state of her hair. Pale skin, lips plump. Tek wanted to tell her everything would be okay.
“Let go of me,” he said instead. The cool inflection in his voice angered him, angered her, too, because her nostrils flared.
She didn’t let go. “No.”
One of the men lurched past him and slammed the butt of his gun against her jaw. The sound was horrific and Tek snapped. He grabbed the man by the back of his neck and slammed him into the side of the truck.
“Don’t fucking touch my property.” She was bleeding, he saw when he glanced back at her. He picked up the dude’s gun and motioned for him to get on his knees.
“Boss.” He cupped his nose, eyes watering as he stared up at Tek. “I was just making sure she knew her place.”
Tek smiled. “And in the process you forgot your own. What is your name?”
“Rowland.” Rowland’s gaze flicked from Tek’s face to the gun and back. “Please, boss. I’m sorry.”
“Rowland, we don’t hit women.” But he hit Rowland, five times in the face with the gun. The women started screaming before Rowland toppled over.
“Deal with him.” He waved a hand. “Jonny. Do your thing.”
He stood aside as Rowland’s fellow drivers pulled him off the truck. Jonny closed it up after Tek made him clean up the woman Rowland had hit. Now Jonny’s job was to change the plates on the truck and drive in to the warehouse, where the women would be broken up into smaller groups and driven, blindfolded, to the different holding posts all over Atlanta.
From there they’d go to Renzo Vega’s clubs where they’d have their shot at freedom if they wanted it. Some didn’t. Others grasped the opportunity with both hands. He’d have to stop at Renzo’s place before he went to Quinn.
We don’t hit women. We just buy and sell them like cattle.
The taunt stayed in his head as he drove to Renzo’s club. He couldn’t escape it. He wanted to, though. He couldn’t stay in the role he now played and remain sane. No way.
“He’s up his office,” Renzo’s man at the door told him. “He’s expecting you.”
Tek made his way through the crowd of people getting sweaty on Renzo’s dance floor and climbed the stairs to the man’s office on the second level of the building. The office was empty, but he took a seat and waited.
Not for long.
“Mr. Ng.” Renzo strode into his office. “You have news for me?”
“New shipment arrived tonight. My guy at the warehouse should have them ready for you in a day or so.”
“Good. Good.” Renzo poured himself a drink from the bottle atop the small table near his desk and held out the bottle to Tek. “Drink?”
“Nah. I’m good.” He got to his feet and turned to the door.
“How is Quinn by the way?” Renzo asked. “I hear you know him. Intimately.”
Tek faced him slowly. “Stay away from Quinn. He’s not for you.”
Renzo smiled
and sipped his drink, holding Tek’s gaze over the rim. When he lowered the glass he asked, “Is he for you?”
Tek walked over to him and cocked his head, arms crossed. “Don’t involve yourself in something that has nothing to do with you.”
“Maybe it does,” Renzo said. “You ever think about that?” He grinned and Tek flicked his hand, tossing a knife at him.
It sailed past his head and embedded in the wall behind Renzo.
“The only reason you’re alive right now is because I don’t want to get your blood on my clothes.” Tek smiled. “I’m sure you soft motherfuckers have a file on me somewhere, so you know I like to play with my food before I eat it. Come at me with that bullshit again and I’ll make an exception for that ass.”
He turned away, stopping in the open doorway. “I like this thing we’ve got going, Fed. But Quinn is mine. If you force me to stake my claim, you won’t like how I do it. Got it? Don’t make me your enemy.” He left before he gutted that suicidal fool.
His phone rang as he walked out of the club, and he quickly answered. “Yeah.”
“Tek.”
He stopped abruptly. “Mei-Lei. How are you?”
She made a sound. A laugh or a sob, or something in between. “My father was arrested by the FBI today. They say he’s been embezzling and laundering money, and evading taxes. Plus a whole bunch of other stuff I can’t even wrap my mind around.” She took a breath.
“I’m sorry.”
“This is you, isn’t it? You did this for me.”
He leaned against his car. “Whatever I did or didn’t do is because I’m selfish, and I can no longer live my life at the behest of others.” He paused. “I’m sure that’s something you can relate to.”
“Thank you.”
Her soft words made him smile. “Got a piece of paper that says we’re husband and wife, so you know. No thanks necessary.”
“Yes.” He could picture her nodding. “But you and I know that paper is false.”
“Is it? You are free, Mei-Lei. Free to do whatever you want. Be a vet or a horse trainer, or a vet who trains horses. Do they exist, do you know?”
She laughed and it was beautiful sound. “I’ll find out. What about your future?”
Tek stared up at the night’s sky. “Remains to be seen, but I am a call away if you need anything. You get me?”
“I think I already like being your fake wife. Goodbye, Tek.”
“Bye, Mei-Lei.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Low had spent the day with Quinn, but he insisted his friend go home when night came around. He wanted to be alone. The last person Quinn wanted to see was Tek. He’d ignored all the calls, but he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking Tek wouldn’t show up. He always showed up whenever Quinn didn’t want him to. It was when Quinn needed him most that he bailed, disappearing to be with the man he truly wanted.
That had been a punch to the fucking face and his jaw still carried the bruise from that imaginary blow.
From Tek.
Tek, of all people. He’d thought himself safe, his heart safe, with Tek.
Nope.
Fool that he was, he believed in Tek. Believed in them. How stupid of him.
He stood in front of his fridge, the door open, wearing only his boxer briefs, staring into the cold, yellow-lighted interior. Lost. Just blinking.
He hadn’t allowed himself to grieve that loss, that betrayal. He hadn’t allowed himself to accept what Tek loving somebody else meant. He slammed the fridge door shut and opened the freezer.
All he saw in there were two empty ice trays, a bag of frozen corn from who knew how long, and about half a bottle of Apple Whiskey. He pulled it out, held the cap under running water for a couple seconds, then popped the lid and took it to the head.
It burned.
So good.
So fucking familiar, he staggered, hunching over the counter as he stared at the bottle. He tasted Tek, but he didn’t have to go deep into a bottle to find it. He lived with Tek’s taste permanently imprinted on him.
Intoxicating.
But it was too much. Too much, and the pain swelled to the top. Choking him, claiming him, showing him just how weak he truly was. The memories swamped him as well, proving that he had no escape despite the reprieve Tek’s presence had given him. He had no right to try to claim Tek. No right to have what he’d been trying so fucking hard to cling to.
No love.
He got no love, not anymore.
He bent over the counter, holding the whisky to his mouth, trying not to let it spill. The bottle in his mouth stifled the cries, but he still heard them.
So fucking loud.
Why?
“Quinn!”
The shout jerked his head up, and Quinn’s teeth knocked against the rim of the bottle. Tek ran at him, snatching the bottle away.
“No.” Quinn struggled with him, trying to get it back, but he couldn’t.
“Please.” Tek put the bottle on the counter but it wobbled and fell. Quinn flinched when it shattered on the floor. “I’m so sorry.” He caught Quinn’s face in both hands, gaze pleading. “Forgive me.”
The sight of him. The familiarity of his touch. Too much. Quinn covered his face with a shaking hand. It was hard, being in this moment, and remembering what happened in New York. Hard to restrain himself from just collapsing in Tek’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Tek’s whisper was fierce, angry, and tight in Quinn’s ear. “I didn’t mean it. The last thing—” His voice cracked. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”
“Yet you did.” Quinn dropped his hand and finally met Tek’s red-rimmed gaze. “You began this thing with me, you continued it, knowing you had feelings for someone else. Knowing I could never measure up, or compete.”
Tek shook his head. “Babe, there’s no competition.”
“All the things we’ve shared, all the things I thought I knew. I know nothing.” The anger roared to life, burning away the sadness so that all Quinn had was the red-hot rage roiling in his gut. “I know nothing about you. You made a fool of me. Poor, lost Quinn. Too fucking stupid to see you using me as substitute for the man you wanted but could never have.”
“No.” Tek grabbed his hand. Quinn yanked away from him, spinning away.
He strode out the room, and Tek dogged his heels.
“It’s not like that. Quinn, please. You weren’t a substitute.”
“Don’t you fucking say that shit to me.” Quinn swung to face him, and Tek stopped in his tracks. “You lied to me.” He pointed a finger, watched it tremble. “You used me. You pushed and shoved your way into my life. You made me want things. You made me imagine things, made me dream of them. And you never intended to let me have them. Never.”
He refused to cry, so he continued walking, climbing the stairs. When he entered his bedroom, he sank to the floor, body aching as he sat with his back against the bed.
Tek followed him into the bedroom.
Quinn looked away.
“It wasn’t a lie.” Tek settled onto the floor next to Quinn, determination in his eyes when Quinn finally looked at him. “What we have, baby. That shit is the only true thing in my fucked up life. You’re my truth.”
Quinn barked a laugh. “That’s a fucking joke. You bare yourself with everyone but me. You say you’re mine, but the truth is, I have only a fraction of you. Elias has you, Stavros has you. Shit, even your father has you. And I get the leftovers, yeah? Because that’s what I deserve. That’s what fucked up Quinn deserves. A piece of you. When I put out all of me.” He pounded his chest. “When you have everything.” The last word came out a faint whisper. “All of me.”
“When was I supposed to tell you that my father ran the biggest human smuggling operation in the US?” Tek yelled. “When was I supposed to tell you that I have to take over because if I don’t he’ll kill my mother? Yes, the same woman who stopped being my mom at ten.”
Quinn stared at him, jaw unhinged. What the fuck?
“What?” Was he serious?
“I had to protect her, even though she has no idea he’s been using her as a threat to keep me in line. He wanted me to marry the daughter of a friend who owed him some stupid debt. And then, I guess he figured I’d get over my love of men, forget who I am, and run the business like nothing ever happened. That’s how I show him I’m his son. That’s how I earn his respect.” His eyes were sad when he confessed, “I wanted his respect, Quinn. He’s my dad. I wanted his love back, so I agreed.”
“So you married a woman without telling me?”
“No.” Tek shook his head. “I used the FBI to fake that. They wanted me to get a list from Stavros—that’s why I went to him, by the way—so I had them arrest Mei-Lei’s father and conjure up a marriage license.”
Quinn’s head was spinning with all this convoluted shit. “What purpose would that serve?”
“I’d be the official head of the business.” Tek grinned. “I decide everything, and I’ve decided that shit needs to end, so I’m putting a stop to it. Together with the FBI.”
“What does that mean?”
“The business stays in operation so we can bring down the other smugglers. Just for show.”
“I deserved to know all these thing, don’t you think? All the things you’ve been doing that I have no clue about. I deserved to know.”
Tek caught his hand, twisted his fingers around Quinn’s. He felt the shaking in Tek’s hold, but refused to acknowledge it. “I wanted to tell you so many times. I wanted to share all of me with you, but I—” He licked his lips and it wasn’t difficult to see the fear flashing in his eyes. “I’ve never had to actually bare myself to someone. I’ve never had to make that choice. It’s always been out of my hands, out of my control, and the one time it was all on me I couldn’t.” His voice was a weak sound when he confessed, “I’ve never feared rejection the way I fear your rejection. I’ve never feared disappointment like I fear seeing disappointment on your face. I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me, it’s a waste of fucking time. But I care what you think. I care what you see when you look at me, and I care that when you see me, when you see who I am, you won’t want me. Because I want you, Quinn.” He cupped Quinn’s chin. “I want you.”