Run This Town 04 - (Watch Me) Save You

by Avril Ashton

  By hour five he’d given in to the panic.

  And when the sun rose on his face, fear was its companion.

  He didn’t want to think about all the possibilities that could prevent Tek from coming to him. He’d had a loss last night. The worst kind of loss. Quinn didn’t have to imagine the grief and pain. They’d come across as clear as day in Tek’s voice when he’d checked in. He’d needed help and he’d reached out to Quinn. In the midst of it all, he’d reached out to Quinn.

  No way was he going to ignore that.

  So he got dressed, washed his face, and drove around to Tek’s house. The two-story place sat quiet on the manicured, tree-lined street. Silence all around. No car in the driveway and the door was locked. Still Quinn knocked and he knocked some more. Until his hand ached from it. Then he walked around to the backdoor and repeated the pounding.

  Nothing.

  And Quinn could barely move from the fear, the desperation. Still he sucked it up and got back in his car, driving to see the Federal Agent Tek told him operated inside Renzo Vega’s club. Maybe he would know what was going on, since Tek was working with him. Maybe he’d know what happened to him, because Quinn’s imagination wasn’t helping his vow to keep a clear head.

  This early in the morning it wasn’t hard to walk into the club, but he got stopped on his rush toward Renzo’s office.

  “I need to talk to someone,” he told the burly bodyguard. “Please. I—”

  “Quinn?”

  He spun around, pulling away from the tight grasp when he spotted Renzo staring at him with confusion. “I need your help.” He panted, reaching the end of his control.

  Another man walked up to Renzo, dressed in a suit, with dark blond hair and serious gray eyes that screamed law enforcement.

  “Are you the agent Tek’s been dealing with?”

  “What’s going on?” Renzo took his elbow and guided him to his office after waving away the bodyguard. The man in the suit followed closely.

  Inside the office, Quinn took deep gulping breaths trying to calm himself down. It had worked in the past, but now? Not so much.

  “He okay?” Suit Guy didn’t sound like he cared very much what the answer might be.

  “Tek’s missing,” Quinn told them. Immediately the temperature in the room dipped. “I need your help to find him.”

  Renzo narrowed his gaze as he sat on his desk. “What do you mean missing?”

  “His dad died last night, and I haven’t been in contact with him since then. I can’t find him.” Quinn stepped forward, imploring. “I just came from his house and he’s not there.”

  “He doesn’t want to be found.”

  Quinn turned toward Suit Guy. He’d spoken the words so matter of fact. “What?”

  Despite the smooth faced he was serving Quinn, Suit Guy’s lips twitched. “I saw Mr. Ng last night. I was there to watch him slit a man’s throat.”

  Quinn took a step back. “What?”

  “And that’s after he’d stabbed him over fifty times.” He cocked his head and looked Quinn up and down. “You don’t strike me as the type of man to get involved with someone like Mr. Ng.”

  Why was he referring to Tek as Mr. Ng? “Do you have a name?”

  “Dane Hutchins. FBI.” He held up the badge. “Tek called me when he found his father’s body. He said he needed to forget.” A muscle twitched in the agent’s cheek. “Oblivion is what he called it. I don’t blame him for disappearing. I’d have checked out too.”

  “He didn’t check out. Something’s wrong.” He knew it. Quinn felt it.

  “Quinn.” Renzo walked into his line of vision, eyes brimming with pity. “Tek will show up when he’s ready. He’s going through something traumatic. Don’t worry.”

  Quin pursed his lips. Right. He’d be getting no help here. He should have known that. Would have saved himself the trip. “Okay.” He walked to the door and just as he closed his fingers around the doorknob, Renzo was there at his back, pressing him into the door.

  “Be careful, Quinn.” His breath washed over Quinn’s ear and neck. “You don’t know what’s going on and the last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

  Quinn snorted and shook his head. “If you don’t back up off me you’ll be the one hurting, and not in the abstract.” Fucker.

  Renzo backed off, and Quinn exited the office quickly. He’d tried plan A. Now for Option B. In the parking lot, he sat in his car with his hands folded in his lap. The urge to curl up and wallow was there, hot and tight on his skin and in his throat, but he refused. He absolutely refused to give in. Tek needed him.

  He’d chosen Quinn above the drugs, of that Quinn had no doubt. He didn’t know what prevented Tek from coming home to him, but he’d find out.

  He dialed a number then closed his eyes, head against the headrest.

  “Quinn.”

  At the sound of Israel’s voice, Quinn broke. “Tek is missing.”

  “What?”

  Pushing the words through his tight throat hut, but Quinn managed. “His father died last night and he called—”

  “What the fuck? The old man is dead?” Israel cursed loud and long. “Jesus Christ.”

  Quinn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tek called to tell me he’d be home in fifteen minutes.” He swallowed. “That was last night.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  Being assaulted for hours in his home had been a long, never-ending torture, and waiting for Israel to show up ranked up there as a close second. Quinn did all he could to pass the time. Forcing himself to eat while steadily dialing Tek’s phone. Taking a shower. Anything to keep his mind active and helped the time.

  Funny that the first time the thought of calling the authorities entered his head was as he pulled on his jeans. The world Tek inhabited had no use for cops, and Quinn shouldn’t care about that should he? But he did. Because inherently he knew that would solve nothing.

  Not in that world.

  Not in that life.

  But accepting that meant accepting that something was indeed wrong. Tek was indeed in trouble.

  Evening rolled around, then came the peal of his doorbell. Strange how that sound had him sighing as he raced down the stairs.

  He yanked the door open and blinked.

  Israel stood there, along with Reggie. But no, that wasn’t the sight had him doing a double take. Elias was with them, no way could Quinn not recognize that red hair and the eyes threatening frostbite. A baby was strapped to Elias’ chest, and the dark-haired man next to him held a car seat.

  “Quinn.”

  He stepped aside, an automatic response, and they all filed in. One by one. He closed the door and turned, hand still on the knob to face them. They all watched him, closely.

  “Quinn, are you alright?”

  The concern in Elias’ question was… strange, but Quinn didn’t detect anything there except pure worry. He nodded then shook his head just as quickly.

  Understanding dawned in Elias’ gaze and he walked up to Quinn. “We haven’t been properly introduced.” He stuck a hand out. “I’m Elias Kote.” He caressed the head of the baby on his chest. “This is Maddie, my daughter, and this is Lucky,” he motioned to the dark-haired guy who’d put the car seat down next to Quinn’s couch. “My husband.”

  Quinn took the offered hand, shook it once as he met Lucky’s gaze. “Hey.”

  “Sit,” Israel said. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  So yeah, Quinn sat. And he recounted what happened from the moment Tek got the phone call the night before up until he opened the door.

  The men all remained silent. The baby, not so much, but Elias quieted her with soft words that had no business coming from the mouth of a man as hard as him… but sounded right anyway.

  “Fuck.” Israel rubbed the back of his neck when Quinn finished talking. “Did he say anything about what happened to his father?”

  “No.” Quinn shook his head. “Just that he’d been killed.”

&
nbsp; “A hit?” Elias frowned. “But why?”

  “Did he share anything about the business?” Reggie asked. “Mention anything about problems?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything beyond what he did, and why.” Quinn shrugged. “Nothing else is necessary.”

  Israel was on his phone, fingers flying as he texted.

  “How can you be sure he didn’t change his mind and go the quick route?” Reggie asked.

  The question was valid, but Quinn’s hackles rose anyway. “He didn’t.”

  Elias lifted his head from his phone and stared at Quinn before nodding. “He didn’t.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m calling Stavros.”

  His husband did not like those words, Quinn caught the tightening of Lucky’s mouth as Elias put the phone to his ear.

  Quinn jumped to his feet and began pacing. He had to keep moving. Remaining still wasn’t helping him. Not one bit.

  “Where is Tek?”

  He spun around to stare at Elias, taken aback by the venom in his voice. Eyes sparking fire, Elias barked into the phone. “Did you kill Tony Ng?” Whatever he heard had him clenching his fists. “I swear to God, Stav. I find out you have anything to do with Tek’s father’s death or his disappearance I will fucking hack you apart. You get me?” He disconnected the call and tossed the phone away with a disgusted sigh.

  “What?” Quinn asked. “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t kill Tek’s father,” Elias recited the news in a monotone, with a scowl. “And if he has Tek it’s because Tek went to him of his own free will.”

  Quinn dropped into a nearby chair. Brain numb.

  “Wait.” Reggie held a hand up. “We saying he has Tek? Tek is with him?”

  There’s something so much fucking better than the drugs. There’s you. There’s your arms, and your eyes, and your smile…

  “No.” Hell no. Quinn got to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck what that perverted bastard says or doesn’t say. Tek is not with him.” They all looked at him. Like, was he a fool for believing? Was he stupid for trusting? Was he desperate for wanting? “He’s in trouble.” He balled a fist, touched it to his chest as he met their gaze one by one. “I know it. I feel it. He’s in trouble and you are going to help me find him.” When they didn’t immediately move, he yelled, “Help me!”

  “We’ll find him.” Israel shuffled to his feet and came to Quinn, hugging him close, patting his back. “I will find him, Quinn.”

  Then they needed to do it soon, because Quinn was unraveling fast.

  ****

  “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone, man or woman, look as good in a dress as you.” Seraphina Cook smiled down at Tek where he remained tied to a bed. “Bravo. Or is it Brava?”

  He tugged on the ropes, succeeding in only chafing his wrists more. “Why are you doing this?” He tugged harder and winced when his wound protested. Seraphina’s people had sewn him up, but he wasn’t healed.

  His current position didn’t help that one bit.

  “I told you.” She bent and flicked a lock of sweat-slick hair from Tek’s forehead. “I want my son. Stavros Konstantinou promised me I’d have that chance, but he’s been reneging lately.”

  “And this concerns me how?”

  “Stavros keeps you close.” She shrugged. “Thought it was best I keep you closer.”

  Tek shook his head to clear it, making himself dizzy in the process. “Wait. You took me because of Stavros? To force him into giving you your son?” Did this woman know Stavros even a little bit?

  “Like I said, he keeps you close.”

  Tek barked a laugh. “Yeah, to fuck. I know you don’t think Stavros cares what you do with me.”

  She smiled. He had to stop admiring her lipstick. “He’ll be here soon so I’ll ask him.”

  “Why can’t you reach out on your own? You can go to him. Make contact.”

  She shook her head. “Not that easy. My enemies are circling, they smell my blood in the water.” Not that she sounded concerned about that.

  “What do you want from him?” Tek demanded. “Do you know what that woman who raised him did to him? Do you know how she fucked him up? And you’re doing the same thing. You’re doing the same fucking thing to him.”

  “Relax.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not about to kill you, Tek. That’s not my goal.”

  “What is your—”

  “I need to explain everything to him.” She stared off into the distance. “I need to explain why.”

  Huh. “And a letter couldn’t suffice?”

  “There are things a letter could never convey,” she said sharply. “Until you have a child of your own, you will never understand.”

  “You’re right.” He pursed his lips. “I spent the past two decades trying to get my father to love me. He took his love away once he found out his little boy liked dresses and heels. From ten years old I didn’t get the honor of looking into his eyes. I’d lost his respect.” He took a deep breath. “He stared into my eyes last night,” he whispered. “After someone shot him in the heart and left him to die, which he did. In my arms. I got what I wanted, his eyes on mine, but it came with a price I never thought I’d have to pay.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Seraphina said.

  “I wanted my father’s love and affection, because I’d had it at one time. Israel doesn’t want yours. He never had it. There was nothing to miss or mourn or grieve over. What you’re doing is purely for you. To ease your mind. To right your wrongs. To soothe your conscience. And that, even someone like me with no children, can recognize as the very opposite of love.”

  She didn’t speak. Instead, she nodded once, pursed her lips and walked away. He released his breath when she disappeared from his sight.

  Jesus. He hurt, and he needed out of there. He wanted to see Quinn. His eyes burned when he remembered his father was gone. He’d never have it back, the love that had been snatched away. Never. Sorrow made his throat ache.

  Quinn. Would he hate Tek for not showing up, or would he know that something was wrong? Would he think Tek had chosen the drugs over him?

  He loved that man.

  He wanted another chance to look into Quinn’s eyes and tell him that.

  That he loved him. Couldn’t breathe without him.

  In the meantime, he closed his eyes, dropped his chin to his chest and let the dull throb of his bullet wound to lull him to a restless sleep.

  “That is unacceptable.”

  The sharp reprimand opened Tek’s eyes, and they widened when he processed the voice. The familiarity.

  “You don’t touch what belongs to me without permission, Phina. I thought you knew better.”

  Stavros.

  They stepped into the room as one, Seraphina and Stavros.

  “I borrowed Mr. Ng.” Seraphina said coolly. “He’ll be delivered back to his home once I have what I want. What you refused to give me, Stavros.” She sniffed delicately. “I can’t begin to tell you how unhappy your reluctance to bring me my son has made me.”

  “Like I give a fuck about your feelings?” Stavros turned toward the bed. “The last thing you should want is those men hunting for him. Son or no, Israel will kill you if you hurt Tek.”

  “Cut the fucking dramatics,” Seraphina snapped. “You can’t have Mr. Ng until I get what I want.”

  Stavros grabbed her by the neck and slammed her into the nearest wall. About half a dozen guns cocked as her men peeled themselves away from the shadows and trained their guns on the furious Greek.

  “Get your hands off me, boy.” Seraphina brushed his hold away as if it were a fly. “I don’t know where it’s been,” Her nose wrinkled. “Knowing you it’s nowhere hygienic.”

  Tek couldn’t help the twitch of his lips. She reminded him of Israel.

  Stavros strode away from her and approached Tek, his footsteps slowing until they stopped next to the bed. Tek gazed up at him.

  “You okay?” Stavros asked.

  Tek frowned.
In all the years he’d known Stavros, he’d never heard or seen the expression he now saw in his eyes.

  Concern.

  He nodded. “I’m fine.”

  The concern disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with cold steel. Tek shivered.

  And gunshots erupted.

  So sudden, Tek yelped. Stavros lunged at Seraphina, dragging her in front of him as he stood with his back against the wall, using her as a shield.

  “Don’t fucking touch my property,” Stavros snarled in her ear. “Have you not learned a thing from how I operate?” The gun in the Greek’s hand glinted, and Tek lurched upright.

  “Don’t,” he croaked. “Stav, call off your men. Don’t hurt her.”

  Seraphina had that look on her face, one Tek had seen a million and one times on Israel’s. All or nothing. Ride or die. She wasn’t afraid of a bullet.

  Not of death in any form.

  “Don’t hurt her.” Tek yanked on the ropes. “She just wants her son.”

  Sick, but he wished he had a parent who’d die for him.

  “What do I get in exchange for letting her leave?” Stavros asked him.

  Tek met his mocking stare and froze, a sick feeling pooling in his gut. “What do you want?”

  Stavros didn’t answer, but he grinned, and Tek knew. Of course. That bastard wasn’t getting anywhere near him, but he’d let Stavros think he had a shot. Anything to get way from there and back to Quinn.

  “Seraphina.” Tek held her gaze. “He will come to you. Give him time.” But she didn’t have time. Her desperate actions said so even if her mouth didn’t. “Let him take me.” He nodded to Stavros. “Let him take me.”

  Despite Stavros grip on her and his gun at her temple, she narrowed her gaze on Tek. “And in return?”

  “I’ll bring you your son.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elias’ phone rang, yanking Quinn from his restless slumber.

  “What?” He heard Elias bark into the phone. “Where? Is he okay?”

  Quinn scrambled off the couch and raced to the kitchen where the men were gathered. “What is it? What’s going on?”