Dirty Laundry (9 page)

He named a date and time that chilled my blood. Eun Joon slapped Gyong-Si across the face and, an hour or so later, died at the hands of an intruder she surprised in her home.

There were no such things as coincidences. Not really. Someone
knew
Eun Joon had an appointment with Gyong-Si that day and hadn’t anticipated her walking in the door. Her moment of outrage and fidelity to her husband killed her.

And I thought my love life was complicated.

I
STOPPED
at one of the twenty-four-hour
chigae
chains in the area. While their assorted tofu soup came with shrimp eyeballs and legs, their
kalbi
was incredible. I did a takeout order for two servings and a side of specialty
mandu
, deep-fried dumplings made with kim chee, pork, and tofu. The motherly woman behind the counter told me to sit down, pouring me a glass of hot green tea to sip on while I waited. A couple of
panchan
dishes joined my tea, and she urged me to nibble, probably to fatten me up for something nefarious.

Picking at the braised jalapenos dipped in red chili sauce, I dialed up Bobby.

“Hey, Princess.” He picked up after a couple of rings, his husky growl hoarse from years of screaming at criminals to stop or he’d shoot. “Whatcha need?”

“Why do you think I’m calling to ask you for something?” I was, but I didn’t like to be called on it. Not, at least, without first getting a hello out.

“Because it’s near the end of the day when you should be heading for that pretty Korean piece who for some reason thinks you’re hot enough to fuck. If you’re calling me, then you need something.”

“Fine, fuck you too,” I muttered. “And yeah, I need you to do something for me.”

I ran through Gyong-Si and his gay-for-pay fortune-telling business. I got to his exploiting his clients for sex, and Bobby whistled in disgust.

“Fucker,” he spat. “Tell me you’re asking me to break his legs.”

“No, sorry,” I replied. “What I’m hoping you can get is some info on the Lees. See if anyone’s been called out to the apartment on a domestic. Everyone says her husband’s a saint, but she was unhappy—about a few things. I’m wondering if he found out about her frequent trips to Gyong-Si and knew about the asshole’s reputation with the ladies—his
real
reputation.”

“Maybe the guy on the case is chasing down the same line,” Bobby pointed out.

“If he is, then great. If not, then I’ll toss it at Wong to chase down.” The hot tea did nothing to wash away the sweet burn of the braised jalapenos, but it was enough to take away some of the sting. “I don’t think Madame Sun has anything to do with this shit, but something’s up. My gut keeps nagging at me.”

“The same gut that took a couple of bullets?”

“Those hit my ribs and chest. My stomach escaped unscathed,” I retorted. “I’ve already promised Jae I wouldn’t get shot again. Anything I find, I’m throwing at Wong and then walking away.”

“Just remember you said that, Princess, because if not, he’s going to stomp your balls to dust,” Bobby warned. “Let me make a couple of calls and see what’s up. You focus on getting into your boy’s pants and forget about stirring up trouble. I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t mind me if I don’t pick up.” My order arrived on the table, and I slipped the waitress enough cash to pay for the meal and leave a healthy tip. “I’m going to go feed Jae and see if I can’t take his mind off of work for a bit.”

T
HE
drive to Jae’s studio was long enough to make me more impatient to see him. Traffic tightened around me until the Rover and I felt like a blood cell trying to squeeze down a hardened artery. From the clusterfuck at one intersection, it looked like Los Angeles ate only fried foods covered in cheese and an extra helping of bacon. I maneuvered the Rover around one of the bloated ground zeppelins the city called a transit bus, broke from the pack, and zipped down a side street.

Forced to move following an explosion that leveled his old place, Jae found a new studio a few miles from my building. With the cost of housing in Los Angeles and his refusal to move in with me, he ended up in a former auto parts store someone converted into a triplex. The store’s parking lot had been large enough to build a narrow apartment building, but there was enough room behind the thick-walled triplex to park. Windows cut up high into the cinder block walls were a feeble attempt to aerate the building, but the city was not known for its cool winds. Luckily, the landlord left the industrial-grade air conditioner on the place’s roof, or I’d have packed up Jae’s things and tossed him into the back of my SUV.

I parked the Rover behind Jae’s Explorer and locked the car up. The entrance to his place was near the street, a small gesture of privacy given by the wooden slat fence built along the sidewalk. He’d taken the long rectangular space at the back of the building, a good choice, given the two square studios in the front were nearly shoved into the butt of the apartments in front.

Faded yellow and red paint flaked off the side of the building, a reminder of its former glory providing antifreeze and oil to the masses. A scatter of ash sat near the front door, evidence of a troubled Jae using the small patio area as a smoking spot. The faint odor of cloves clung to the space, a fragrant and recent echo of my lover’s infrequent bad habit.

As much as I adored Jae, he was next to impossible to get to answer the front door if he was busy. I’d had entire conversations with him sitting next to me as he processed photos on his laptop, only to have him owlishly blink at me when I asked him a direct question. While he spent most of his time at my place, the studio was his niche of independence, somewhere he could slink off to and work without my intrusion.

Well—
usually
without my intrusion.

I tested the doorknob and was surprised to find it open. Jae was a habitual locker of knobs. Even the bathroom wasn’t safe from his compulsive barricading the world out, but stranger things had happened than him leaving his front door unlocked.

He’d fallen for me, after all.

I opened the door to the heady fragrance of green tea and buttered popcorn. It’d been a while since I’d been to the studio. We spent all of our time at my place—our place, really, since his cat seemed to have gained custody of the bed when we weren’t in it. The front part of the cinder block studio was dedicated to Jae’s photography, and a U of light boxes and low tables took up much of the area. A smaller space in the back of the rectangle was cordoned off by tall bookcases, and a pressure rod hung with glittering plastic beads served as a door between the bedroom space and Jae’s working area. He rarely slept there, using a queen mattress set we’d plopped directly on the floor as someplace to take a nap while he waited for something to process.

His kitchen area was a long counter against the wall facing the alley, with a microwave, hot plate, and a double-wide industrial sink. The current owner left the concrete floor as he’d found it, sealing it with a thick urethane. The place was a dismal gray, even illuminated by the soft white lights Jae installed everywhere and the thin sunlight struggling through the high windows, but it was his, and Jae wasn’t going to give it up so he could set up house with me.

I still had his cat, and my bed was more comfortable, so I figured I had enough incentive for him to come sleep with me every night. So far, it seemed to be working.

The smell of popcorn came from the microwave, and Jae stood with his back to me, shaking the popped kernels into a bowl. A red and gray striped beanie was pulled down over his head, and an oversized Oakland Raiders shirt hung from his slender shoulders, probably stolen from my dresser. I lost a lot of clothes to Jae-Min, but I liked seeing them on him.

He said it was like wearing me around him. I couldn’t imagine anything that could make me happier… except maybe having him wrapped around me and screaming my name.

I came up behind him, staying as quiet as I could. Intent on the popcorn, he’d not heard me come in, and I thought I’d surprise him. I wrapped my arms around his chest, pulled him against me, and raked my teeth up the side of his neck in a biting kiss.

“Hey, Jae baby,” I murmured. “I have missed you so fucking much today, it hurts. Let’s go home so we can try to break another bed.”

Several things happened at once, nearly too quickly for me to wrap my tiny little brain around them, but my dick sure as hell felt the fist slamming up into it, and then my ear sang from a follow-up blow.

A high-pitched screaming took up residence in my rattled hearing, and I blinked furiously, trying to wipe away the sight of Jae’s face on the young woman in front of me. A popcorn bowl flew at my head, too quick for me to duck. It was a thick Fiesta ware mixing bowl Jae’d bought at a garage sale, and it thunked my forehead hard enough for me to see stars. Holding my hands up in surrender, I stepped back quickly to get away.

That apparently wasn’t good enough, because what little Jae had for dishes came flying at me in a hail of vengeance.

Dodging ceramics and utensils didn’t stop my brain from short-circuiting.
My
Jae wasn’t actually Jae. And she had breasts, round, soft curves I’d pressed up against my arms when I’d hugged her from behind.

I was ducking away from a coffee cup when Jae came running from the back room. He let the mug fly past us both but stood in front of me to ward off anything else she decided to throw. They both stood a few feet from each other, screaming loudly in a fast Korean I had not a snowflake’s chance in hell of understanding, but the one thing I did see was the color drain from Jae-Min’s face when she spat at my feet.

There are times in life when a person can only stand still and let the raging rivers pour over them. This was one of those times for me. Jae would have had to be blind to miss the evidence of my rubbing up against the young woman who looked so much like him. Her neck boasted a red scrape from my teeth and the shallow scruff of my unshaven jaw. It was obscene to see an intimate visual of what I’d meant to do to my lover marbling the skin of a woman.

She was only a few inches shorter than he was, apparently not enough of a difference for me to notice in my need to put my arms around Jae. The beauty of Jae’s face seemed oddly strong on a woman’s features, and her black hair was razor-chopped around her face and neck, much like his.

The clothes were definitely ours. I’d peeled them off of him enough times to know them intimately, even down to the small tear under the right sleeve where my tongue fit perfectly to tease his upper arm. The sight of her breasts beneath the fabric was disconcerting, nearly as disturbing as the thought of me sliding my hands over her stomach when I leaned over to kiss who I’d thought was my lover.

“You… kissed me.” Her nostrils flared, and the realization of who I’d meant to kiss finally sunk in. Her eyes widened, and she paled to an ashen gray. “
Oppa
… you meant to kiss… Jae
oppa
.”

“Fuck, you’re his sister.” There was nothing else I could do, other than maybe find a corner to noisily throw up in. “Fucking hell. Shit, Jae, I’m sorry. I didn’t know….”

I’d just outed Jae to a member of his family, and she was less than happy about the discovery.

“
Kuieo
! Faggot!” It was a hard word to hear, especially coming from a mouth so close to Jae’s in shape. The sting of her words burrowed in deep, striking fears I thought I’d spackled over. “Don’t come near my brother!
Oppa
, how can you… be
this
? With
him
?”

Jae’s scowl tightened, and his Korean took on a pleading tone, as he gestured with his hands between us. She returned his beseeching words with a stream of words so laden with disgust I could feel my stomach turn. The look she gave me should have withered me to an ashen pile if not for Jae standing in front of me to take the brunt of it.

“
Agi
—
” I touched his shoulder, and Jae flinched, pulling away from my hand.

It hurt. More than the bullets Ben ripped through me and Rick turning cold in my arms. Even more than Claudia’s blood spilling from her body and leaking out from between my fingers. Jae taking that tiny step away from me opened up a chasm between us I couldn’t kiss away.

My face went numb, and my limbs were stiff, unwieldy lumps of clay unwilling to budge me from my spot. They continued to fight, a maelstrom of words cutting deep down into my bones, even though I didn’t understand a single thing either of them said. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the devastated, broken look on Jae’s face and the achingly harsh curses coming from his sister’s mouth.

“Jae… baby… don’t—”

“
Hyung
.” Jae turned to me, murmuring. “Please.”

“
Hyung?
This
ibanin,
and you call him
hyung
?” She was off on another tear, and the gap between them closed. Her hands, small and delicate, were curled into tight fists, and she struck out with them, catching Jae across his cheek. The sound of flesh hitting skin seemed to shock her, and his sister suddenly stilled, then burst out crying.