“Yeah, me too,” Miki admitted. “Especially the ones banging down my door right now.”
“Bathroom first.” Kane’s voice dropped an octave, a grumbling roar that tantalized Miki’s cock more than he’d like. “I’ll call the station and get someone out there to chase them away. Hell, I might not even wait for someone to show up ’cause I’m serious about going out there and shooting them for doing this to you.”
“Yeah, just don’t go do that before you get me the ice.” He grunted when Kane eased him onto the long bench next to the whirlpool. “And if you really fucking loved me, you’d make sure that ice has some whiskey around it.”
Chapter 12
I promised to take you, take you to the stars.
Way past Pluto, once we clear Mars.
We’ll dance in the black, and I will right all my wrongs,
And before our fall from Heaven, we’ll sing our old songs.
So long that we’ve danced, we’ll forget how they go,
Mumble a few words, then bask in our glow.
I’ll teach you to fly, And you’ll teach me to win.
Made me survive, and taught me to sin.
—Letters D and S
HE LEFT Miki asleep in his bed. The afternoon had been filled with cops, questions, and curious looks that made Miki shuffle his feet and retreat behind an icy mask of cynicism and aloofness. It’d gotten to the point where Miki couldn’t even put together the timeline of events, and he stumbled when trying to get his thoughts together. His body grew tense, tightening with stress as each minute passed, and Kane finally broke off the questioning, secreting Miki back in the warehouse where he could collapse on the bed.
A call to the station ensured the presence of a patrol car in front of Miki’s warehouse, but Kane still scanned the main street as he drove away, memorizing the cars clustered near Miki’s driveway in case they needed to be rousted when he came back.
In a city whose lifeblood was tourism, finding a quiet spot was still relatively easy. Driving from Miki’s place, he slid into Chinatown’s busy traffic, heading toward Mission street. The spiced aroma of sizzling meats wafted through the district, and locals fought for space on the sidewalks alongside visitors, heading to favorite hole-in-the-wall places for a late lunch.
He pulled into a space near St. Patrick’s and strolled to the tall brick building, stopping on the sidewalk to let a pair of wind-burnt women in floppy hats finish taking pictures of the church. Kane mounted the short flight of cement steps, entered the church where he’d spent his childhood Sunday mornings, and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of ancient wood, candle wax, and old paper. After dipping his fingers into the font, Kane crossed himself, dabbing the water on his body. Dipping his head toward the central altar, he continued to walk along the back aisle, then slid into a pew at the rear of the left conclave.
It was an old church with a history that stretched back decades before the Great Quake. Originally built to serve the area’s Irish community, the congregation grew to embrace the Latino and Filipino families that moved into the area. The ornate altar and stained glass windows were framed by arched ceilings and slender marble columns, the cream interior softened by years of burning candles and seasoned stone. The building continued on through the worst of the city’s times, opening its door for those who needed its gentle grace, especially to a growing Morgan family.
It’d become Kane’s sanctuary, one he’d come to when he needed to find peace, whether it was inside or out.
Leaning into the hard wood, Kane closed his eyes and took another breath, letting the cool quiet of the church seep into him. He had a couple of hours before the five o’clock mass, and St. Patrick’s was empty, giving him some solitude. He’d only steeped in the calming silence for a few minutes when a heavy hand clasped his shoulder. Jerking up from his slouch, Kane hissed in slight annoyance when his brother Connor slid into the pew next to him, jostling him with an elbow jab to his left side.
“Stalking me?” Kane muttered.
“Nah, I could smell you from across the city, so I stopped by to tell you to bathe,” Connor murmured back under his breath.