Run This Town 03 - (Watch Me) Unmask You (18 page)

“I appreciate your show of restraint.” Stavros licked his lips. “I didn’t come after your family.”

“No?” Elias lifted an eyebrow. “Four men just showed up at my house when I’m out of town on a job for you, beat up my husband and spilled every last one of my secrets because…” He waved a hand for Stavros to compete the sentence.

“Your Lucky knows the truth?” Stavros smiled. “That’s— unfortunate, but I’m not involved in this.”

Elias shook his head. “I don’t have time for your lies, Stav. Save us both the time and energy I’ll have to exert to gut you and just tell me. Why?”

Stavros closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Close as they were, Elias felt the movement of his body, and the warm breath when he exhaled. “Contrary to what you may think of me, I’m not fucking suicidal,” he said sharply. “There’s no way I’m going to send a crew after your family. After you, maybe, and even that would be at least ten men deep. But your husband and child?” He shook his head. “No. That’s not on me. I always figured you’d cave and spill the beans yourself.” His eyes turned shrewd, mocking. “You’ve been waiting to shoot me for ten years? I’ve been waiting, expecting you to self-destruct for equally that long. Self-inflicted wounds…” Pain came and went in his eyes so fast, Elias almost missed it. “They hurt the most.”

And staring into his ex-lover’s eyes, Elias knew.

Stavros was innocent. At least, innocent of destroying Elias’s family. Didn’t mean Elias backed down, though. Didn’t mean he moved the gun away from the gray-tinged temple.

“Who else knows?” He kept his voice even when his mind was going a mile a fucking minute. “Someone else knows.”

Stavros shrugged. “No one else knows.”

“Those men were following orders, otherwise they wouldn’t have come after me through Lucky. They wouldn’t have known where to hit me.” He punched Stavros in the temple. The other man grunted in pain. “Who else knows about that operation?”

The FBI had been after the husband, but they had no idea the man had died and his wife was the one running the show. The one who had their undercover agent stripped, whipped, and buried alive. Only Elias and Stavros had been in on the hit, given the orders from Haimon himself back when he was calling the shots. Only Stavros knew Elias had let Seraphina get away.

“I could find out.” Stavros licked his lips as a thin trail of blood trickled down his left cheek.

“I want them,” Elias said calmly. “Two died when the cop rescued Lucky. Two got away. I want them.”

“I don’t know—”

Elias hit him again. “I don’t believe a word you say, Stavros. You might not have sent them, but you told someone what happened. Other people know, and you’re going to find me those men, otherwise I’m taking you instead.” He pushed away, straightened.

Stavros’s eyes were narrowed, more blood running down his face, but he met Elias’s eyes before dropping his gaze to his crotch. His exposed crotch. His cock was still hard, the flared crown glistening.

“You killed Nazia before I finished.” Stavros glanced at the dead girl then up at Elias with longing. “Care to lend a hand?” He grasped his erection, stroked it once. His hips lifted off the chair. “You know what your violence does to me.”

Elias shook his head. “I will shoot you.” Everything about the two of them had been a mistake, one Elias would go to great lengths never to repeat.

Stavros groaned. “Sweet talk.” His wrist worked himself faster. He was a sight, face bloodied, clothes torn, lips swollen from Elias’s blows. “Like old times.” His voice was raspy, deep as he fucked his fist. “You spill blood and I spill for you.”

Elias snorted. “Yep, old times. And just like back then, I know nothing about your arousal was for me or because of me.”

Stavros inhaled sharply, his strokes faltering.

Elias grinned. “Annika.”

“Fuck.” Stavros’s body bowed and he came, seed spurting over his lower body. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Elias nodded. “Just like old times, Stav.” He spun away. That sight, Stavros’s orgasm, had stopped meaning something to him well past ten years ago. “You have twenty-four hours to produce those two men.”

“Breakfast?”

A startled Lucky jerked his head up at the cheerful voice. Elias’s friend, not the gang leader, but his… partner? Lover? Jesus. The guy stood inside the hotel room with a bag, of food most likely.

“What are you doing here?” He looked around. Maddie was sleeping next to him after he’d gotten up less than an hour ago to feed and change her. “How did you get in?” His voice was rising, getting shrill so he swallowed and cleared his throat. “Get out.”

Because he wasn’t ready, probably never would be ready to deal with this shit.

“I brought food.” The guy smiled. “Pancakes and shit. And coffee.” He nodded to the foam tray in his other hand. Three cups of coffee. “Thought you might need it. Don’t figure you got any sleep last night.”

Trying, unsuccessfully, to keep his temper in check and not yell, Lucky got off the bed and stomped past the man who followed him to the far side of the room.

“What’s your name again?”

“Reggie. Reggie Turner.”

“How’d you find me?”

“I never lost you, Lucky.” Reggie winked.

Lucky glared at him. “He sent you, didn’t he? Elias sent you.”

“Did you really think he’d let you just leave unprotected when there are people out there who want to hurt you?” Reggie put the bags down on the small plastic table then sat. “I’m watching out for you, Lucky.”

“The FBI is outside and I don’t expect anything,” he snapped in a low tone. “I expect nothing from Elias and you. I don’t even know you.”

Reggie shrugged as he unpacked the food from the bag. “You don’t have to know me.”

Lucky’s stomach rumbled when the aroma of hot pancakes and bacon hit his nose. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a moan.

“Your husband knows me. He knows I’ll protect you and your daughter.” Reggie’s gaze flicked to Maddie then back to Lucky. “With my life.”

“That’s bullshit. You don’t even know me.” Lucky frowned at him over the top of his coffee cup. The hot liquid scalded his tongue, but he smothered the wince.

“Doesn’t matter.” Reggie shrugged. “Not to me.”

Lucky didn’t know what to say to that. Plus he was hungry so he kept his trap shut and nodded his thanks when Reggie handed him his container of food. They ate in silence for a bit while Lucky tried to arrange his thoughts. He had so many questions, but he didn’t trust Elias to answer them. He didn’t trust his husband and wasn’t that the fucking worst?

“Where’s uh, the other guy with you?” he asked after swallowing a bite of food.

“He’s around.” Reggie’s gaze was on him, searching for something.

“I couldn’t figure out where I knew him from, but then I got it. He’s that Jamaican, Israel Storm, right? From Queens. He was in the news about some gang war with… Russians, I think?”

Reggie grinned. “That’s the one.”

“So.” Lucky cleared his throat. “You guys are, uh, friends? You and Israel?”

“We’re friends.” Reggie nodded and chewed. “Lovers, too, but friends, most importantly.”

Lucky sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s—” He shook his head. “How do you know Elias? How does that work?”

“Is and Elias have been friends for a very long time. I met your husband through Is.” His teeth appeared. “He’s quite infamous, your husband.”

“What?”

“Everyone’s heard of Elias Kote. They know what he does and to not bother running when he’s coming for you.”

That was— Lucky’s appetite fled right then. “Should I be proud of that? Happy that the man I married is a killer for hire? That he takes lives as easily as he touches me or kisses our daughter?” He pushed the food away. “Should I be pleased that everything about our life is a lie, that he’s kept ten years of secrets from me?”

“I’m just saying—”

“You’re with Israel, right?” When Reggie nodded, Lucky said, “You’re friends, too. Do you know all of his secrets, Reggie? Can you say you know all his secrets?”

Reggie’s gaze was enigmatic when he said, “I don’t need to know every last one of Is’s secrets, and I’m fine with that. More than fine, actually. A man is entitled to his secrets. But I know the ones that matter most.”

Lucky laughed bitterly. “More power to you then. I can’t even say that much now, can I?” How much of a fool was he to not see who he’d married? Had Elias truly loved him?

“I don’t know why Elias did what he did, but as for keeping it from you? After seeing him with you, I can understand that. He loves you and for a man like Elias—for men like us—that’s—” Reggie shook his head. “That’s everything.”

“And you’re here, babysitting a stranger while he’s where?” Lucky asked. “Doing what?”

“Doing what needs to be done,” Reggie said firmly. “It’s what we do. When you find happiness, when you find your slice of 
that thing
, you fight to the death to keep it. I get that, which is why I’m here in his place.”

“Even though we’re strangers.” Lucky didn’t understand that at all.

“Loyalty. Israel is loyal to your man, and I am loyal to mine. So when Elias calls, when he reaches out for help, we know it’s major. And we come running. Simple.”

“Is that some kind of weird street mentality thing? Because that’s— it’s crazy.”

Reggie grinned and picked up a piece of bacon from Lucky’s plate. “That’s because we don’t run in the same circles, Lucky Mousasi.” He grinned. “No worries, though. That’s about to change.”

****

Elias let himself into the hotel room and flipped the light on. He was tired, physically, but energized, his mind moving rapidly as he tried to connect the dots. If Stavros hadn’t been the one to send that gang after Lucky, who the fuck was it?

He’d done some shit, more than his share for damn sure. But his enemies were all dead. The only man who knew just where to poke, where to prod to bring him to his knees was Stavros. If his ex was innocent who did that leave?

He shoved impatient fingers through his hair and walked to the bathroom, only to spin around at the last second, snatching his gun from his waistband when movement at the shadowed right side of the room caught his eye.

They clashed together, the two guns. Until Elias made out the face under the dark hood. He dropped the gun and cocked his head.

“Tek?”

“Elias.” His friend removed the hood, but kept his Sig at Elias’s forehead. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What are you doing?” He held Tek’s gaze and the other man didn’t look away, his intense stare telling Elias everything. “You’re here to kill me.”

It surprised him, but then again, it didn’t. He eyed his friend. Tek’s dark hair was short now, but back in the day it had been way longer. His face had been rounder, softer, giving off a guileless appearance many had tried and failed to take advantage of. Nowadays, Tek’s features had hardened into sharp lines borne of living the way he did. The Chinese-American was stunning, a shit-storm and a half in his small frame. He was dressed in all black. A color Elias knew he hated.

“You gonna do it?” he asked, because Tek hadn’t moved, didn’t look as if he blinked either, staring at Elias, gaze far away. Elias could bet he knew where his friend went.

“What?”

“Keep up, Tek.” He turned away, deliberately giving him his back, then he sat down on the thin hotel bed facing him. “You’re here to kill me, so will you?”

Tek smiled and approached him. He always moved silent and dangerous. Deceptive. Everything about him, his appearance, his demeanor, built for and by deception. Elias didn’t fear him. He was smart enough to know he should, but Tek he would never be afraid of. When Tek reached him, he stepped between Elias’s parted thighs and cupped the back of his head.

“You think I should do it?” he asked quietly. “Pull the trigger?” His eyes gave nothing away, but they hardly ever did. “I should do this—” He brought the gun back to Elias’s forehead, pressed it against him. “Pull the trigger. Take you away from the husband you’re 
thisclose
 to losing anyway, and the daughter you’ve made the center of your world? I should kill you?”

Elias stared up at him, body relaxed. “Do what you want.”

“I always do.” Tek’s lips curled. “Except when I don’t.”

The gun against Elias’s forehead twitched. The tiniest hint of Tek’s weakness. Something he’d only ever allow Elias to see.

“You’re in too fucking deep,” he said, anger turning his words rough.

“Some would say not deep enough.” Tek licked his lips. “My choices aren’t up for debate.”

“Okay.” Elias pursed his lips. “Why did you agree to come after me?”

His friend laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nice of you to assume that I had a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Tek.”

“No.” Tek’s voice rose then quieted just as quickly. “I do not have a choice, you know that full fucking well.”

“Then do it.” Elias leaned forward. “You want to keep your secrets, right? Want to protect your shit, buy you some more time?” Elias shrugged. “Do it.”

Tek stared at him with his haunted eyes, still the same all these years later. Elias wanted to do what he’d done then, protect him, kill for him, but Tek had ripped that decision away from him. Given it to someone else. And Elias could do nothing, but watch his friend suffer in that silent way he suffered.

“I’m still there.”

Elias nodded. He’d figured as much and hearing that admission bowed him. “I know.”

“No.” The gun shook. “No, you don’t know. You’ll never fucking know.” His words choked off and stark anguish crossed his face before melting away. “Inside that prison was the last place I expected to be accepted or protected, and you and Israel—when he finally came around—you gave me that gift.”

“Tek.”

“I knew even before you forced me to my knees to suck your cock that you would never be mine, you’d never be with someone like me, but I hoped anyway.” He barked a laugh. “I had hope back then, how stupid was I?”

Elias grabbed the gun by the barrel and yanked on Tek’s wrist with the other, jerking him forward. Tek dropped, both knees on the hotel room floor. Another time flashed before Elias’s eyes. A prison bathroom, ten men against two. He and Tek didn’t make it out unscathed.

“Tek.” He grabbed Tek by the back of the neck, jerked his head up and pressed their foreheads together. Tek shook. Like a leaf. Elias wrapped him up, both arms around his shoulders, but that didn’t seem to help, so he got down on the floor with him, pressed up against him. “Fuck, Tek. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry, man.”

He held his friend so tight. Apologizing for something neither of them could have anticipated, controlled.

“Let me help,” he begged. Not the first time he’d uttered those words to Tek. “Let me help you.” Tek hid everything, kept it all inside. Eventually it would all come spilling out, leaving a mess. The last time that happened, Elias had been there, he’d dealt with the aftermath without anyone knowing, not even Israel. But Tek didn’t like seeing him. Didn’t like being reminded.

Just like Donovan Cintron.

Elias had seen them both at their very worst.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered into Tek’s ear.

His friend stiffened and pushed away. Elias didn’t release him, and Tek didn’t struggle hard or long. He cupped Tek’s cheek, stared into his bleak eyes. “You’re going under and you’re gonna fucking drown if you don’t ask for help,” he told him, tone harsh. He was afraid for Tek, afraid he’d lose his friend after he fought to the death to save him.

But that was then, when Tek had wanted to be saved. Nowadays he didn’t care so much about that.

“I have all the help I need.” He was back to being defiant, cocky, the façade of control rolling on so fucking flawlessly.

“Tek.” Elias pressed their foreheads together. “It’s not gonna last,” he whispered. He shook him, a hard shake. “It never fucking does.”

“Then I get more.” His lips curved, crooked. Sexy in his manufactured confidence. “There’s always more, isn’t there?”

“I love you.”

Tek lifted a hand, hovered it in front of Elias’s face before touching him, his mouth, tracing his lips. “Sometimes—” He swallowed. “Sometimes I hear you saying that, and I say it back. Then I wake up.” His nostrils flared. “You’re precious to me.”

Fuck. Elias’s heart hurt. It was impossible not to be moved, not to want Tek to have any and everything he needed to get better, to be who he should be. “Tek. I’m sorry.” He’d always be apologizing, because they both knew he’d never be able to give what Tek so desperately needed.

“You’re precious, Elias, in ways you’ll never ever know.”

“You’re important to me,” Elias told him. “And I won’t let you give up. I won’t let you self-destruct.”

Tek chuckled. “Too late.” His eyes were dead when he said, “It’s entirely too late, my friend.” He pulled away, got to his feet and retrieved his gun, tucking it into his waist.

Elias stood as well. “What will you tell him when he learns I’m still alive?” He didn’t imagine Stavros would be too pleased.

“Forget Stavros, I can handle him.”