Sinner's Gin (Sinners, #1)

“I’ll be right there,” Kane promised and began to rinse his cup out.

“Go. I’ll do that,” Donal ordered him. “You go on. I’ll make sure someone feeds your Miki when he wakes up. Call me when you get to Marina’s house. When yer mum comes back from the store, we’ll start getting some things together so she’s got clothes and a place to stay.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Kane gave his father a brief hug, slapping him on the back. “Don’t worry so much about Miki. His dog’ll eat you out of house and home.”

“I can handle the dog, Kane.” His father smirked. “I raised you, didn’t I?”





Chapter 18





I am only home in the dark.

The shadows are my only friend.

When a spark of light comes on,

I know my peace is about to end.



—Cursing the Candle



THE only thing left of Sanchez’s pride and joy was a twisted pile of blackened, oily scrap metal. Even the Jack in the Box antenna ball that hung from the rear view mirror was melted slag with only a smear of gray left where the Raiders helmet once sat on its round head.

The front of the garage was gone, a blown-out mess after the Boxster’s gas tank heated up when the fire spread through the structure. The engine suffered the least amount of damage, although it sat partially engulfed in fire-retardant foam and what appeared to be the scorched remains of the Sanchez’s Christmas decorations.

It was not a pretty sight, and Kel stood in the middle of the blocked-off street, pacing as he spoke on the phone to his insurance company. He gave Kane a tight smile. His voice was a low, threatening grumble, and Kane guessed the call wasn’t going well.

“Rest of the house looks to be okay. They might be able to go in once they get a cleaning crew inside. Car’s toast, though,” one of the firemen said to Kane. He tried to remember if he’d met the young man before. They all seemed so young, barely out of high school and gangly despite the weight of their gear and their bulk. “They’ve got to stay out of the garage area, though. The arson guy’ll be here in a couple of hours. Looks like it was started close to the garage door, but I don’t want to promise anything.”

“Thanks. Appreciate your help,” Kane replied, shaking the guy’s hand as he passed by. “I’ll let them know.”

The air on the quiet street was thick with inky black smoke, and the tarry taste of it fouled the coffee Kane had grabbed on the way over. Marina Sanchez and Kel’s younger sisters were already victims of Hurricane Brigid, having been swept off to Kel’s aunt’s house before the firemen stamped out the last ember. People were gathering around the house, keeping a safe distance as the firemen went through the garage’s remains, pulling out what they could salvage from the fire. Boxes of family keepsakes were lined up on the sidewalk, beaten soldiers guarding their contents behind filthy, damp cardboard walls.

“Do you fucking believe this shit?” Kel walked up to Kane’s side, gratefully accepting the cup of iced coffee his partner brought for him. “Bastard made my mother cry. I want a piece of his ass nailed to my desk so I can use it as a mouse pad.”

“Inventive,” Kane conceded with a nod. “I want him to have a prison cell next to a carnival. A cell with really thin, high windows he can’t see out of, but he can hear everyone laughing and having a good time as he sits in the darkness.”

“You are one weird son of a bitch, Morgan,” Kel said.

“Oh, and maybe fire ants. That would rock,” Kane added with a smirk. “Ones that really like the taste of his testicles.”

“Like I said, weird.”

“See anyone you don’t recognize in the crowd?” Kane asked, skimming the people huddled against the cold.

“Nah, most of them are neighbors,” Kel replied. “Mama’s popular. A lot of my sisters’ friends come home from school and their houses are empty so they come here. She’s got cookies and listens to them bitch about homework. And before you ask me, no, I didn’t see anyone I didn’t know when we left this morning. Just that Howard kid from down the street heading to school. He waved, and Mama wished him to have a good day.”

“That normal?”

“Dude, I think that kid wishes he could just live with her. He’s younger than the girls, but she doesn’t mind him wandering over. His parents are crap.”

“Crap how?” Kane leaned against his SUV. “Child Protective Services crappy or just shitty parents?”

“They’ve got no time, kid’s a bit weird… that kind of crappy.” He shrugged helplessly. “Some people are just bad parents. Hell, look at my dad. He’s a piece of shit for a father, but he’s a good guy. Just not someone you ask for advice about anything.”

“Or stay married to.”

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