Run This Town 04 - (Watch Me) Save You Page 12

  “I asked myself that question the very first time you stepped into my house,” Quinn said softly. “The instant you shook my hand.”

  Tek gazed at him, eyes so heavy, expression so fucking haunted, it froze the air in Quinn’s lungs. Tek’s hand came up, into view, reaching for Quinn’s face in slow motion. As if at any second he expected Quinn to flinch, launch himself away from their nearness. Quinn remained still as Tek stroked his left cheek with his knuckles. He bit down on his tongue, otherwise he’d be begging for more of that touch.

  “I’m gonna go.” Tek jerked a thumb in the direction of the door. “Gotta handle some business.”

  After rocking Quinn like that? With no other explanation than that? Quinn wanted to know what Tek’s business was, but he held himself back from asking. He wanted to know more about why Tek went to prison, and what he’d gone through behind those walls, but he said nothing. It shouldn’t be any of his concern. A kiss and a blow job did not erase who Quinn was, all it did was show him that Tek may be just as fucked up. He didn’t need that.

  He didn’t, so he nodded, glancing away so Tek wouldn’t see the disappointment in his face.

  “Okay.” Tek spun and strode to the door.

  ‘Tek.” Quinn didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to watch him walk out that door. Felt as if he’d never see him again.

  At the door Tek faced him. “Xiao Chen.”

  Quinn blinked. “What?”

  “You asked me once if Tek was my real name.” Tek clasped both hands together and sketched a quick bow. “Xiao Chen. The name I was given at birth.”

  A smile made Quinn’s lips tremble. “I like Tek better.”

  “Me, too.” He grinned, and Quinn’s heart stuttered.

  “Be careful, Tek.”

  “Cross my heart promise.” He was gone before Quinn could ask him what that meant.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tek spent hours getting ready before he left his apartment in Queens, finding fault with everything he saw in the mirror that morning. He hated his face, his body. He hated who he woke up as, but there was nothing to be done. So he donned an all-black ensemble and a baseball cap pulled low, a lame attempt to hide the imperfections he felt sure everyone else could see.

  Today he was visiting his fiancée.

  Once he arrived at his destination, he got out of his car and walked up the drive to the porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened a few heartbeats later, and he greeted the woman who smiled at him then ushered him inside. The housekeeper led him through a home that was beautifully decorated but gave the impression of a museum.

  For display purposes only.

  For you to admire and envy, but never touch.

  At the door to what had to be Huáng’s office, the housekeeper motioned him to go on with a smile and a bow. Then she disappeared, and he stood there with his hands in his pockets and his stomach sour.

  He closed his eyes and bit down hard on his bottom lip. He was shaky, wobbly on his feet as sweat dampened his hairline. He didn’t fit. Nothing fit. Not his clothes, not his skin, not the voice in his head.

  “Xiao Chen.” Mickey Huáng’s voice boomed, startling him.

  Tek conjured a broad smile that felt heavy and foreign as he walked into the bright office and held out a hand to the man who was supposed to be his future father in law.

  “Uncle Huáng.” Not family, though. Uncle in name only. “How are you?”

  Huáng got up from his desk, a small, slight stature that belied that booming voice of his. “Good to see you, boy.” He grabbed Tek in a tight hug then stepped back, patting his cheek. “Was beginning to think I’d never see you around these parts.” He chortled.

  Tek followed suit.

  “I’ve been really busy,” he tossed out the generic excuse. “Business has been crazy. And I don’t like to stay away from my mother.”

  “Of course. Family comes first.” Huáng settled back behind his desk and after offering Tek a drink that he refused, poured himself a drink of brown liquor from the crystal decanter at his elbow. “But you’ll need to step away once you solidify things with your father.” He cocked his head, but that wasn’t a question.

  Tek nodded, fingers trembling on his knee. He twisted them around each other and squeezed tight. “That is my goal, sir.”

  Huáng laughed. “Sir. There’s no need for that.” He sipped his drink. “Call me dad. You’re about to marry my little girl.” His expression went serious. “My family will be your family.”

  He never understood why Huáng would do it, sign over his daughter to spend forever with a man he didn’t know. He couldn’t understand why this man would allow something like that for his little girl. But knowing his father like he did, Tek wouldn’t put it past him to have something on Huáng. Something huge. Why else would he agree to this?

  He knew why he agreed. He knew what was at stake.

  “I don’t have to tell you,” Huáng continued. “You hurt her and I kill you.” He grinned, eyes sparkling.

  Where had that protection been back when he was first agreeing to this fucked up mess? “Of course, sir—Uh, dad.” Tek resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

  He downed his drink then slammed the glass down onto the desk and stood. “Come.” He slapped his hands once. “Let’s go meet my Mei-Lei.” He led the way out his office, and Tek rushed to catch up. “She’s attending NYU as you know, but she came home this weekend just to meet you.”

  Doubtful it was as easy as that, but Tek smiled anyway, climbing the spiral staircase to the second floor. Huáng took them to a closed, white door and knocked.

  “Mei-Lei, you have a visitor,” he called out before turning the knob.

  The bedroom was as cold as the rest of house, done in white or a variation on that theme. And in the middle of the white four-poster bed, a young woman sat demurely.

  Tek had seen pictures of her. A beautiful woman. In the flesh she was simply stunning. Her dark eyes were serious as she stared at Tek. The button nose and thin lips, shiny with gloss, fit her perfectly. She got off the bed gracefully. Shiny black hair reached down to the middle of her back as she walked over, dressed like a tiny librarian. The white dress reached her knees, and she tugged on the blue sweater around her shoulders before sliding the pad of one finger along the double strand of pearls at her throat.

  “Hello.”

  He greeted her with a smile, all gums, trying not to flinch when their hands met in an awkward clasp. “Mei-Lei.” He stepped back and brought her hand up, kissing her knuckles.

  He could put on a show.

  “Xiao Chen just wanted to say hello,” her father said. “I’m sure you two kids will have some time alone before the ceremony.” He narrowed his eyes at them before smiling for his daughter.

  “Yes.” Tek nodded then spoke to Mei-Lei. “I’ll call you to set up a dinner date. How’s that?”

  Her lips pulled tight in a smile. “Of course.” She was like porcelain. How long before she broke, too?

  He smiled at her, hoping the gesture spoke what he felt. I know. I get it. I understand. It didn’t. Disappointment shadowed her eyes, as though she’d expected Tek to back out of the web they were caught in. He didn’t know what her father used to keep her in line, but he couldn’t back out. Not if he wanted his mother alive.

  Her fingers were ice to the touch, but he kissed her hand again then turned and exited the room. Huáng escorted him downstairs, and they stood outside on the porch.

  “Your father tells me you’ll take over the major responsibilities once you’re married.”

  Tek nodded, staring out onto the massive front lawn. “Yes.”

  “The papers have already been signed.” Huáng paused. “I think for what I’m contributing to this, I should get more than what I’d originally agreed to.” He shoved his hand deep into his pockets. “You’re getting my daughter and all my European contacts. All of them.”

  “And I believe the debt you owe my father will be wiped out.” Tek fac
ed him with an eyebrow raised. “What is it, five million?”

  Huáng’s gaze didn’t falter. “And my daughter alone isn’t worth that?”

  “I think your daughter is, or should be, priceless.” He shrugged. “You’re the one putting a price on her head.”

  “I want a piece of the business.”

  Tek sighed. Already it had begun. “What does my father say about that?”

  “You’re the one in charge. Or you’re about to be, aren’t you? Your decision.”

  Right. “I’ll let you know.” He walked away, down the porch and the cobblestone driveway, and into the car. He headed straight to the airport, paying way too much for a last minute flight to Atlanta.

  He lost two days after that. The last thing Tek remembered was driving to The Bluffs. Two days later he woke up there, naked covered in shit he tried not to look at too closely.

  He made himself drive away from the flop house and back to his house on the premise of taking a shower and putting some food in his belly. Instead, he ended up crashing hard, losing another day. The intellectual part of his brain knew he was spiraling, self-destructing, but the doped out part of him was louder. That selfish part just wanted him to get high and get fucked by whoever expressed the slightest interest. Not a good thing, but he was powerless.

  Powerless to the emotions leading him, dictating his every move.

  He ordered a pizza and didn’t even bother putting on clothes when the delivery guy rang the bell. He wasn’t too far gone not to chuckle when dude took one look at him and turned beet red before quickly looking away. After stuffing his face, Tek collapsed again. He’d done nothing, but he was fucking tired. Exhausted.

  He heaved a sigh and checked his phone. So many messages. He sent a text to schedule a meet with Mei-Lei alone. He didn’t want her father around when they talked this time. He texted Israel to let him know he was okay. Is was happy now, content with the life he and Reggie were building. And Tek tried not to be around them for extended period of time. It hurt too much.

  Made him think about Elias, but more than that, it made him think about Quinn and how it felt to be kissed by him. To taste him. God. It made Tek hurt more because he hadn’t ever anticipated wanting another man other than Elias. He’d gotten so into it, into them, he’d told Quinn about Rikers.

  Not a full report, but enough. And he’d stood there, waiting for that blow he knew Quinn was so capable of launching at him. He’d been prepared for it, knowing full fucking well that he’d be knocked on his ass if Quinn kicked him out. Ended this ill-advised thing.

  Three weeks since that kiss, since Tek went to his knees for Quinn. His wound was all healed up, a small scar remaining to mark the place where the bullet had entered him. He’d sent money to Joe’s family, anonymously. Enough that the dead man’s wife would never have to worry about taking care of their children. It was the very least Tek could do.

  Three weeks, and he’d tried to not want Quinn. To not think about him, but the fool in Tek wanted Quinn, a man just as broken as Tek. It was a good thing Quinn put the brakes on, because really, how would that even work?

  Tek wanted it to work.

  Which was foolish.

  Another foolish thing would be to search his call logs for Quinn’s number and tap it, holding the phone aloof while the screen said “dialing”. Foolish move. But he pressed his head back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, remembering the last time he’d been in bed with Quinn.

  “Hello.”

  “You answered.”

  “Tek.” The breathless way he said Tek’s name. Everything about that was good.

  “How are you, Quinn?”

  “Why are you calling me?” All softness disappeared. Only caution and distrust remained.

  “I was thinking of you,” Tek murmured. “I was thinking about putting my body on top of yours. I want to watch you panic. Not from fear but indecision. Like you can't decide if you want to kiss me or fuck me.”

  Quinn made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan.

  “I vote for the latter. I vote you forget that you like me even a little bit.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  Such pretty lies. “Good.” Tek nodded. “I vote you fuck me as if you hate me."

  Silence greeted his words, and he sat up abruptly.

  “Quinn.”

  “We agreed,” Quinn said. “It’s not a good idea. We agreed.”

  They had. “Yes.” But he wanted to change that agreement, wanted to tear it up actually. Make a new one, where they did. They tried. More than tried. Succeeded.

  “Goodbye, Tek.”

  “Wait.” Talking to Quinn quieted him, calmed him. Made him float. Tek didn’t want to lose that. “Do you think about it?” he asked. “The kiss. Me on my knees. Do you close your eyes and still feel me, taste me, Quinn? Because I do and I taste you. All the fucking time.”

  ‘Tek.”

  “Answer the question, Quinn.” Anger burned him, sent his voice echoing. “Am I the only one feeling this, aching for this? Tell me.” He needed to know.

  “Yes,” Quinn said. “I still feel you.”

  Tek rubbed his face with a shaking hand. “What do you feel? Tell me, Quinn.” Fucking glutton for punishment. That’s what he was.

  Quinn blew out a breath. “I feel your fingertips on my nape. I feel your breath on my face.” His words started shaking. “I feel your eyes on me, and I feel your lips on mine.”

  Tek’s eyes drifted closed as he spoke, and he went back, shifting through the memories and images of that kiss in his mind. The feel and taste of Quinn’s dick in his mouth. “I remember your taste, Quinn.” Heat unfurled in his lower belly, spreading down, down, hardening him. “I remember every sound you made.”

  Quinn panted in his ear. Fuck.

  Tek slid up and down on the sheets, so Goddamn harsh against his suddenly sensitive skin. “Can I have that again?” he asked. “I want that again. The entire thing. I want it again.”

  Quinn didn’t respond, but Tek heard him breathing.

  “Answer me.” He slid a hand down his naked chest, stopping just above the waist of his boxers. “Can I have it again? I want the truth.”

  “Yes.” That whisper, filled with anger and resentment and hunger.

  “And you want it again. Say it,” Tek pushed. “Say it, Quinn.”

  “I want it again.” Quinn huffed in Tek’s ear. “But I—”

  “No buts. No fucking denials,” Tek said sharply. “No excuses. I want you. And you—” He closed his eyes, letting the moment wash over him, make him shudder. “Goddamn. You want me, too.” The awe of it was too much.

  “I want you, yes.” Quinn’s voice got stronger and he inhaled sharply. “But you scare me, too.”

  The words hit Tek upside the head. “That’s— I never want to scare you.”

  “Not scared you’ll hurt me,” Quinn said quickly. “Not that. I’m afraid of how you make me feel.”

  “What?”

  “Surrender.” Quinn’s breath turned choppy in his ear. “You make me want to surrender.”

  “Oh, baby.” Tek closed his eyes against the burn. “Now you know,” he told Quinn in a hoarse whisper. “Now, you know how I feel, Quinn. Every time you turn your gaze on me. Every time you say my name.”

  The silence that followed swallowed him.

  “Friends, Tek,” Quinn said finally. “I can do friends. I need a friend. I can’t handle a lover, not now. Not yet. It’s not fair to anyone when I’m not… well. I have to take care of me first.”

  Tek got that, he understood it, but that didn’t stop the disappointment from choking him. “You should go outside more,” he said causally. “Get out, meet people. Like your neighbors.”

  “I quit,” Quinn said.

  Tek blinked. “What?”

  “My job, I quit my job. It’s not fun trying to help people when you can’t stand to touch them, or the sight of their blood sends you into a catatonic state.”

&
nbsp; “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Quinn whispered. “Me too.”

  “What will you do?”

  He heard the shrug in Quinn’s voice. “Dunno. But I have to fix me, Tek. I’m so fucked up inside, in my head. I need to fix me.”

  Tek knew all about that. “Let me help. I want to help.”

  “No. This is mine to handle.” He hesitated then blurted out, “Can I call you sometime? If I—If I can’t sleep, or need to hear your voice? You don’t—”

  “Yes.” Like he’d say no. “Anytime, Quinn.” He couldn’t stress that shit enough. “Anytime.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Quinn sniffed. “I gotta go.” He paused. “Bye, Tek.”

  “Later, Quinn.”

  Fuck. Tek dropped back onto the pillows, letting out a long, deep breath. Feeling for Quinn. How was he going to deal with that?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sleep came in one-hour increments for three days in a row. Quinn fought the nightmares in his waking and sleeping hours, but of course, he lost every time. Tek was all twisted up in there, too. Until Quinn would be yanked awake convinced Tek was the monster he was scared to death of, not who he actually was… The man Quinn went out of his way not to think about.

  A futile thing, trying not to hear Tek in his head. Not to feel his lips pressed to Quinn, the soft huff of his breath as he sighed into their kiss.

  Some kiss.

  The expression on his face as he stared up at Quinn, his gorgeous lips wrapped around Quinn’s cock.

  It was never far from Quinn’s mind. Never too far away for him to recall in high-def detail. Sometimes he thought he wanted to just close his eyes and fall into that memory, and other times, he panicked and called up his time with Xavier. The latter was getting harder and harder to do, more difficult to justify. Because unlike Quinn who still remained stuck in the past, Xavier had so moved on.

  Quinn wanted to move on, too. Only he didn’t know how. Tek wanted him to see people. He should have told him about the shrink he’d already seen twice this week alone.

  The thought rolled around in his head as he sat on his toilet, the lid down, his head in his hands at one in the morning. The unseen cobwebs from yet another nightmare still clung to him. Sometimes they were so tight, they restricted his breathing, his movements, his thoughts. But they were familiar too. A part of him now. As unshakeable as the color of his skin or his shoe size.