Tek and Quinn + An Excerpt

As so often happens, life got in the way of much of my writing today. So I figured I’d hop on over here and drop a little excerpt in your lap, try to ease that hunger you got for all things Tek and Quinn.

 

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Denial. He’d denied himself. And he’d pretended. Until it cracked, that smooth, fake façade. It shattered and he’d collapsed under that weight. The weight of his lies, the judgement, the ache to please, to be accepted, to be loved again. To have love again.

It all blew apart like a fucking bomb and he’d found himself here, in this room, a rope around his neck and his toes brushing the floor as he swung.

Like a pendulum.

Giving up had felt…defeating. Letting go had been…relieving.

He hadn’t struggled while his life had played behind his eyes. The assaults from inside Rikers, too many, far too many. The helplessness of it until he’d suddenly had not one but two protectors. His time with Elias had been all there, too. All twisted up, two strands, good and bad. Humiliation and love. Sex and companionship. Violence and comfort.

How had he been able to detangle himself from Tek and their time inside Rikers so easily? How had he been able to walk away and love someone so completely as he loved his Lucky? How had he done it? Tek needed that secret. He needed to know.

Even outside Rikers, Elias been there to save Tek again.

He’d been there, fear and horror in his eyes when he’d raced into the room to see Tek hanging from the rope. He’d flung something at the rope above the beam. A blade of some kind because the next thing Tek knew he was on the floor, coughing, crying.

Elias had cried too. He’d held Tek and rocked him, cursing him in the same breath that he used to apologize, to voice his love.

But it was wasn’t the love Tek wanted. Never the love he wanted.

His phone went off, vibrating in his jacket pocket and bringing him back to the present. He blinked in the darkness, surprised to find his lashes wet. He pulled his phone out, checked the caller’s identity, and frowned when he didn’t recognize it.

“Yeah.”

“So that’s how you repay someone for letting you stay in their home? You steal their shit?”

Tek grinned at the familiar voice, surprising himself. “Quinn.” He hadn’t anticipated Quinn ever using the number Tek had scribbled down at the last minute, calling himself an idiot as he did. Nor had he anticipated that call being so welcomed.

“I want my property back.”

Quinn with a gun. Tek couldn’t let that happen. “It’s mine now.” His ass cramped so he shifted on the carpet. “How are you, Quinn?”

“Short a gun.”

Tek smiled again and lifted a hand to touch the gesture, mapping it with shocked fingers. “You’ll get over it.”

“You son of a bitch.”

And Tek couldn’t stop fucking grinning. “You want it back? Then get up, get dressed, walk outside your house.”

Quinn went silent.

“Go to the airport, get on a flight, and come… to New York.” He’d almost said come to me. “If you do that, Quinn, I’ll buy a hundred more guns to go with the one I took from you.”

All he heard was Quinn’s heaving breaths in his ear, coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Quinn.” God. Tek’s heart squeezed in his chest. So tight. ‘Talk to me.”

“You think—” His words broke then Quinn tried again. “You think you’re so fucking smart.”

Tek shook his head in the dark. “Not smart, no. But I know enough.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “Is that why you took my gun? Because you think you know something?”

Tek chose to ignore that question. “Who are you, Quinn?”

The silence went on for so long, Tek feared he’d driven Quinn off the phone.

“I don’t know who I am,” Quinn said finally. Softly. Voice so heartbreaking.

Everything about him called to Tek. Everything about him made Tek want to fix him when he himself was the one lying on the floor, shredded. “What do you know?” he asked.

“I know you’re the first man I let touch me in years.” The words were almost accusatory. “I know you’re the first person I let into my home. I know you’re the only reason I can go to sleep nowadays.”

Tek swallowed, trying to figure out what to say. How to say it. “Why me?” he rasped. “All the things you just said… why me?” He wondered if Quinn would say it, if he’d acknowledge it.

“I don’t know.” The frustration in Quinn’s voice cut at Tek.

“Because I see you,” Tek whispered. He saw too fucking much of what he felt in Quinn’s eyes.

“No.” Quinn’s voice rose, anger and fear blending seamlessly. “Don’t say that, because you don’t. You can’t, and I don’t want you to.”

“Quinn—”

“Bring back my fucking gun.” Then he was gone, leaving Tek with a dial tone and a hole in his gut.