Whiskey and Wry (Sinners Series) (19 page)

“Hey, you married one. Sorta. Kinda.”

Kane was definitely a presence. The man hovered, watching Miki with fiery blue eyes whenever he moved about the room. He said very little, mostly small comforting phrases, then led Miki to the small apartment, reassuring them both the door would remain closed until they were ready to come out. He’d kissed Miki first with an intense passion, then simmered it with a reassuring slide of his lips up over Miki’s jaw to his ear. Sinjun laughed, pushing Kane away, then rubbing his earlobe where his lover’d bit him.

Miki’s laughter had been the happiest Damie’d ever heard from him. It was as if the happy Damie’d felt in the house had somehow found its way into Miki, and a tiny part of him was sad, mournful he’d not been able to put it there.

He wanted that kind of happy.

And he kind of wanted that kind of happy with Sionn.

Sinjun’s bashful smile and fierce hug chased his regret away, especially when they’d both fallen over onto the bed and begun talking.

After the tears. After the hugs. Then after the relieved laughter and a few heart-wrenching sobs, the words finally came.

He’d told his brother about waking up at Skywood, carved up and stitched back together like a rag doll. He tried to explain about the fake parents who showed up every so often and the person everyone’d thought he’d been. Damie touched briefly on the man who’d driven him to freedom and the dog who’d left drool on the back of his neck.

Then he spoke of trying to get to San Francisco and how it felt to fill his lungs with the bite of fog, even if he didn’t remember where he needed to go. He spent a lot of time talking about his headaches and the flashes of memories he kept having. He almost lost himself when he spoke of the morning, when he’d stood in the rain and found a fire escape missing its long-legged singer.

“This has been the best fucking day of my life,” Damien murmured. “Just… everything. Everyone in it. You. Sionn. Fucking everything.”

“Your parents. Shit, guess we’ve got to tell them.” Miki made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “They keep pushing for shit. I won’t let them sell our stuff for marketing. It’s pissed them off.”

“God, I love you.” He grinned at his friend, Miki’s hair tickling his nose. “You remembered. I’d have kicked your ass if I came back and SG was selling shoes or shit.”

“Fries. Sweet potato fries. Or maybe instant
saimin
,” Miki said solemnly. “I’d only sell out for things that were really important to you. Oh! Maybe a car. But only a really cool car. Okay, I kind of wanted to let them use something for a chick flick, but then I thought you’d bitch because you didn’t at least get the chance to bang one of the actresses. That’s shot to shit now you’ve hooked up with Sionn. Well, shit.”

“You’re good that way,” he proclaimed, nodding emphatically. “Fuck, my parents. I don’t know what the hell to do there.”

“I think we’ve got to get you to a doc first. Check out your brain.” He could see Miki plotting things out in his head. “Who the fuck put you in that place? And how? We’ve got to make sure they can’t put you back. We’ll need to find someone who doesn’t think you’re crazy. Might be kind of hard, but we can pay someone off. I’ve still got money.”

“Shit, I don’t have any money. Oh, fuck this shit,” Damien growled. “I’ve got to get my money back.”

“Edie, unless you’ve forgotten her too.” Miki sneered playfully at him. “If she can’t fix this, then no one can.”

“Hell, Edie. I remembered her. I just couldn’t get my brain around all of it. Not until this morning. Shit’s still kind of patchy.” He sighed, remembering their battle-ax manager with a fondness he probably would regret sometime soon. “She doing good?”

“Yeah. I think she’s in Europe right now.” His friend’s hand tightened again. “We’ll call her. Later. Not now. Right now, I kind of—”

“Just us.” Damien finished for him.

“Yeah, just us.”

Miki told him about Shing’s and Vega’s murders, then about falling in love with Kane. Damien teased, drawing out a blush and profanities. They talked about the Morgans—the sheer glut of Morgans—and Damien actually felt the blood leave his face when he found out he’d not even met half of them or experienced the worst of the terrors, the Dreaded Morgan Matriarch.

“Fuck, okay,” Damien exhaled. “We can move that dresser thing against the door. Good idea.”

“She’s fucking scary, man.” Miki puffed out his cheeks. “She’s got these tiny little feet and wears heels, so you can hear them tapping down the hall when she stalks you. It’s like one of those fucking raptors, and you’re running through the kitchen, but you can’t find a freezer to hide behind, so you know she’s going to catch your ass and shove food or something down your throat. It’s like you
know
birds come from dinosaurs, because she’s feeding you like you’re something in her nest. Or worse, she makes you sit down in the living room and
talk
to her about shit. Fucking terrifies me. Kane’s kind of made this my hiding place. Once I’m through the door, they all leave me alone. Gives me some time to… breathe.”

“Oh shit, you actually crash here? On this bed? With your cop? Damn it. These are clean sheets right? I don’t want to be lying on your fuck space. I love you, man, but I don’t—” He yelped when Miki’s fingers pinched his left nipple. “Hey, watch those nails. Fucking asshole. They’re sharp.”

“What happened to the rings? You went through hell for those.” Miki shoved Damie’s collar aside and peeked in to inspect his naked nipple. Tapping the length of Damien’s chest, he nodded. “We gotta compare battle scars. Talk to me about you and Kane’s cousin. Finnegan’s? Really?”

“First off, the old lady’s gone. She was Sionn’s grandma. He said she went out the way she came in. Screaming and kicking ass. But, Sin, it’s a shitty place to get tips,” he admitted about the pub. “Not if you’re under the awning. Tourists figure the place is paying you.”

“But you still hung out there?”

“Yeah, first because it reminded me of you. It was like I knew we had something there and I’d found it. Then because he’d come out and talk to me. Bring me shit. God, I drank so much fucking coffee.”

“Not beer?”

“Usually it was morning. Beer’s not good for playing. I’ve got a piece of shit electric. I don’t need to be drunk off my ass when that thing snaps. Strings cut like crazy, but damn, it’s got a sweet sound for playing old-school shit.”

“I can’t believe
Finnegan’s
let you play up front. How many fucking times did the old lady shove a broom up our asses?”

“Enough so I still shit splinters.” Damien chuckled. “But Sionn… damn. He talked to me, Sinjun. About stupid shit mostly, but he spent the time, you know? I kind of missed that after that guy with the gun found me. Then everything became so real. It fucking scared me, Sin. That guy showing up made everything too fucking real. I was scared he’d hurt Sionn. Me—it didn’t really matter ’cause, you know, I was already dead, but Sionn, it was like he was keeping me alive.”

“If I had to lose you again—” Miki’s voice broke. “If I found out you were alive and then you were gone before—”

“I’m okay, man.” Damien turned over to face his friend and hugged him tightly, resting his forehead on Miki’s tear-wet cheek. “I’m here now. I’m here.”

He lay against Miki, holding him. Miki’s tears were sparse until Damie felt the tightness in his own chest shatter and his own sobs poured out. If he’d felt drowned before, he was past waterlogged by the time he and Miki were reduced to sniffles.

Kissing Miki’s forehead, he murmured, “We’re okay here, Sin. We’re good now. We’re together.”

“And Kane’ll kick anyone’s ass who fucks with us.” It was good to hear the pride in Miki’s voice when he spoke about his lover, even if it left a minute pang of jealousy in his heart.

“Yeah, I think Sionn would too.” Damien twisted his mouth into a grimace. “I think. Maybe. I dunno. Fuck, I’d hope so. I would for him, you know? For sure.”

“So you like him, then?” Miki teased, laughing when Damie pinched his leg. “Is this where I ask you if you
like
like him, or what? I didn’t do high school. Shit, I don’t even know what to call Kane. Most of the time, it’s… the cop. Or K. Like he’s Men in Black or something. Talk. Sionn. What’s up? Really.”

“Dude, I let him fuck me,” Damie admitted. “Hell, I wanted him to fuck me. It was all I could think about.”

“So you’re doing that now, D?” The singer whistled softly. “Or just him?”

“Just him.” He’d not bottomed in years. Even before his forced incarceration, he usually found himself on top, plugging away at another faceless body. It’d felt like he was giving too much of himself, and if he were honest, most of the guys he’d hooked up with wanted to have his dick up their asses more than anything else. “It’s crazy, Sin. I wanted to
taste
him. Fuck the condom. Fuck common sense. One damned taste. I think I even said something about testing. Should have stayed at Skywood. I’m nuts. Crazy for him. Like I can’t breathe.”

“Got in your fucking brain, then?”

He’d missed that about Miki. The guy could boil things down to one thought, taking a few words, sharpening them, and plunging them into Damien’s chest.

“Yeah, he got in my fucking brain.” He stretched out, lying on his back. Scratching an inch above his navel, Damie stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why. Yeah, he’s hot, but so are a lot of guys. I guess it’s ’cause he… takes care of me. Not like a put-me-in-diapers creepy fetish kind of thing, but stupid shit like feeding me or tossing money in my case when it’s lean. He’d say stuff like, oh, I liked that song, but it’s crap. Just a lie he tells so he can slip me a twenty.”

“And he brought you here,” Miki reminded him. “He’s been gone. Today was the first time I’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, he dragged me here. We didn’t know you were here. Sionn knew Kane was hooked up with a musician, but he didn’t know it was you. Shit, if we’d known… I would have been here sooner. He just wanted me to talk to Donal.”

“Donal. You’re going to love Donal. He’s very cool. Like an Ent or something. But more kick-ass. Hard to explain.”

“I liked him. The dad, right? Shit, imagine having that dude as your dad.”

“Yeah, get used to him. He doesn’t go away… solid, you know? And you can use him to hide from Brigid.” Miki snuggled back into the pillows. “He’s really
nice
. Doesn’t push, but you know he’s there. Sionn should have come by sooner. Brigid’s pissed at him for skipping the dinner ritual, but hey, now we know what he’s been doing on Sundays.”

“One Sunday!” Damien held up his index finger. “Today. Shit, I better go find him soon. I don’t want him to….”

He didn’t know what he wanted, or rather, hoped for, with Sionn. Yeah, he’d found Miki, but Sionn… he wasn’t willing to walk away from the Irishman with a kiss good-bye and a fast thank you. Going without the man for a week had been bad enough. Losing him forever ached too much to look at.

“You don’t have to leave him behind, D.” Miki’s hazel eyes went owlish, peering down into Damien’s soul. “I saw you with him. When you came to hug me, I saw how long it took you guys to let your hands go. Why not see where it goes? Why the fuck not be happy?”

“Never thought I’d be the one to hear you say that.” Damien wiped at his face, refusing to look at the well of emotions boiling up inside of him when he thought of Sionn. “First, talk to me about your arm. What the fuck happened there? That’s a long-ass scar.”

“I got shot!” Miki’s grin split his face nearly in half, and he pulled up his sleeve, baring the finger-long pink scar. “Don’t tell Edie. I thought it would freak her out, so I told Kane not to say shit to her about it. But, dude! Shot! Like I’m all gangster or something.”

“He could have killed you, Sin.” Damien sat up, staring down at his friend in amazement.

“Yeah, but he didn’t. And I gave as good as he gave me, so fuck him. I’m not going to go all batshit emo about it. I’ve had worse.” Miki hoisted himself up, then rolled up his jeans’ leg, showing the crisscross marks left behind from his knee surgery. “Got broken here from the accident. I was kind of fucked up. Missed your funeral.”

“Heh, so did I,” he snorted, examining Miki’s leg. “That looks like it hurts.”

“Less now.” The other man made a face, ripe with disgust. “Going to therapy for it. Kane kind of put the hammer down on that one. Just the leg. Not the brain. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“No, not going to.” Damien held up his hands in mock surrender. “When you want to talk about your shit with someone, it’s on you. I remember that. Not going to push.”

“Good.” Miki tugged at his shirt. “Now strip and tell me what they did to you. ’Cause, dude, you sure as fuck look like you went through a damned Halloween movie.”

“Sure.” The shirt was loose enough on him that Damien began to tug it over his head, careful not to pop the buttons off the front. He had it halfway off when he heard Miki clear his throat.

“Oh, and, um… I’ve got to tell you something.” Miki sounded sheepish, slightly muffled by the veil of fabric over Damien’s head. “It’s about the GTO….”

Chapter 11

I missed you, Sinjun. Even before I really knew you were… there in my memories. I knew I was missing something so big in my life. I’m sorry I forgot you. Even if it was just for a moment. I am so fucking sorry.