It seemed like hours before they ended the debate on where to stash Miki, finally settling on the bungalow attachment since it was easier on his knee than climbing up the stairs. All Miki could think about when he saw the apartment was that he could somehow sneak out the door, through the connecting family room, and be out the back door to the garage before anyone was the wiser.
Then Brigid triple-locked the front door after Quinn left, closing the garage behind him, and Miki knew he was doomed, encased in a wooden tomb painted a sunny yellow and filled with a maniacal horde of people who sounded like they’d rip his head off if he tried eating their marshmallow-bit-laden cereal.
At way past midnight, his dog was running around a pool wreathed in chaise lounges and topped off with a waterfall made out of boulders, and Miki still had no idea how he was going to escape.
“Why’d you get in the car?” he scolded himself. “What the hell were you thinking?”
He knew what he was thinking. He’d been caught by the worry trap laid down by Brigid’s wide green eyes and trembling mouth when he told her in no uncertain terms he wasn’t going to stay at the Morgans’ hatching crèche while Kane figured out who was leaving pieces of people at his house.
Brigid’s hint of tears broke him, Miki was sure of it, because the next thing he remembered, he was telling Quinn where to find Dude’s wet dog food cans and wondering if he needed a pair of boots he hadn’t worn since before the accident, just in case they went someplace he couldn’t wear sneakers.
“It’s like she’s a witch,” he muttered. “I swear to fucking God, she’s a witch. She even looks like that witch Dorothy met, but without the squeaky voice. Fuck, she’s good.”
He was singing to himself when the knock on the door startled him, catching him in the middle of an old Lead Belly tune. Glancing out at the backyard, Miki wondered if there was someplace he could hide in the trees. As he contemplated how long he could survive on pool water, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Miki, I know you’re in there,” Kane said. “Open up.”
“How do I know it’s you?” Miki eased himself up onto his feet. His knee gave a twinge, but held. “You could be any one of the clones.”
“Because none of the others want to fuck you into a wall,” Kane growled. “Now open the damned door.”
He stepped aside to let Kane in, but his cop dropped the duffel bag he carried and grabbed Miki by the waist to pull him into a hug. After squirming for a moment, Miki gave in to the embrace, hooking his fingers into the loops of Kane’s jeans. Expecting a kiss, Miki frowned when Kane buried his face into the curve of his throat and inhaled the scent of Miki’s skin.
“God, you are enough to make a man weep,” Kane murmured. “You doing okay?”
“No, your family’s fucking crazy.” Miki playfully shoved him away with a light push. “Did you eat something? Your mom told me to ask you.”
“Trust me, babe, after what I’ve seen tonight, food’s the last thing on my mind.” Kane flopped down on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. He patted the mattress, then raised his eyebrows when Miki shook his head. “What? I showered before I came over. I had to stop at my place to grab some clothes.”
“Your mom—” Miki started to say, but Kane cut him off.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it.” He slid across the bed and grabbed Miki’s waistband, pulling him down onto the bed. “But honestly, I like knowing you’re here where you’re safe.”
Kane was careful with him, easing a hand behind Miki’s knee when he dragged him over the duvet. It felt good to be taken care of, and Miki’s eyes stung a bit as he cuddled into Kane’s side, turning over onto his back so he could stare up at the ceiling. The cop waited until Miki got settled, then hooked his arm around Miki’s shoulders to let his hand lie on his stomach. Kane tangled their fingers together and kissed the top of Miki’s head.
“Dog?” Kane asked softly.
“Outside,” he huffed. “Fucker abandoned me to chase squirrels or something. After your mom fed him some leftover steak. I hope he pukes in your shoes.”
Kane wiggled his bare toes, lifting his feet for Miki to see. “Can’t. Left them outside.”
“I hope one of your mom’s cats fucks your shoes into submission and leaves his spunk in the toes.” Miki cursed Kane, nestling into the crook of the man’s arm. “And your shoe will like it and cry for more.”
“Remind me not to piss you off.” Kane laughed, a deep, rolling sound Miki could hear rise up from his belly.
They lay against one another, listening to the occasional bark coming from the backyard and the sounds of the city as San Francisco slumbered. Miki sighed, and he let the locked-in spiral of his muscles ease away. He played with Kane’s fingers, remembering the feel of them deep inside of him. His face burned, and the memory woke his cock up, its skin tightening around the shaft.
“Was it Carl?” Miki asked softly. “The call you got? Was it about him?”