Stealing our money
Diluting our minds
Taking from the forgotten
Beaten for no crime
You tell me to watch my mouth
Spit on me and tell me to drown
I’m telling you Jack
To watch your own ass
Always getting back up
Just so I can take you down
—My Life, Not Yours
IT WAS Miki’s worst nightmare.
One he’d been in and relived for years.
And again, one of the most precious people in his life was with him when his world began spinning.
The horrific crunch of metal on metal was a sound guaranteed to pull in his muscles until he folded, fetal and trembling. He couldn’t tell if there was blood in his mouth or the echoing taste of past horrors rising from his mind, slapping him back in time when death tore his world away from him, tore his band of brothers away from him.
They were only a block away from the police station when the large SUV blasted out of an alley and slammed into the sedan. The brazen hit happened too quickly for Dan to do anything other than shout a warning before the car was lifted off its tires and rolled.
And God did it roll.
They’d been on a side street, a lane and a half of one-way traffic tucked in between squat buildings decorated with flashing red banners celebrating the upcoming moon festival, vivid splashes of color against the drab, fading baby blue and pink hues dominating the area. The hit was quick and violent, flipping the car over, and Miki’s view filled with a Neapolitan swirl of pastel ice cream colors and blacktop. The stink of rubber burning overwhelmed him. Then, as abruptly as it began, the sedan stopped turning, skidding across the sidewalk and slamming into something hard and unyielding.
It was incredible how silent the world got when it held its breath.
So much of that night came rushing back to Miki, much like it had when the truck struck the band’s limo during their tour. This time it seemed easier. This time when the sedan tumbled, he grabbed Damien and held on tight. He was still holding him when the car came to a rest. He ached, and his knee protested when he moved, but the warmth of Damien’s body in his arms gave Miki hope.
The car lay on its passenger side, tiny bits of broken glass scattered all over the back seat and both windshields were spiderwebbed, their tint film holding the panes together, but the rear was beginning to buckle, falling into the cab. A trickle of blood ran down Miki’s forehead, but even through the throbbing pound along his skull, he only had one concern—making sure his brother was still alive.
“Damien!” Miki cried out to his brother, needing to see his crystal blue eyes. Shaking Damien, Miki swallowed the vomit rising up from his stomach, driven by fear he couldn’t wish away. “Oh God, please. Don’t leave me again! Fucker! Don’t you fucking leave me again!”
“Sinjun….” Damien groaned. “Fuck, hurts. My ribs. Stop.”
“Are you two okay?” Dan grunted from the front seat, his body caught up in the belt. He hung over the dashboard, his weight on the buckle. Miki heard him moving around, then a small boom followed when Dan kicked open the driver’s side door. “Hang on. Stay down. I’m going to get you guys out.”
Dan didn’t get farther than hoisting himself up out of the open door.
The shots were a storm of noise and blood. Damien curled an arm around Miki, trying to pull him down into the well between the seats, but moving must have caused him so much pain his face turned white and he went limp, passing out in Miki’s embrace. Dan went slack, falling back into the seat belt’s webbing. Blood dripped from holes puncturing the back of his suit, and his face was turned away from Miki, making it hard to see if he was still alive. The car rocked when a bullet hit it, but nothing seemed to be penetrating its steel shell.
Damien was still breathing, and he moaned when Miki slapped his face. The color returned to his skin and his eyes fluttered open, but when Miki reached for Dan, he got no response from the security guard. Shifting his weight, Miki dug his heels into the back seat’s headrest, trying to leverage himself up. Damien coughed, and his fingers were cold when they brushed on Miki’s exposed stomach where his T-shirt rode up.
Damien ground out, “Where are you going? Someone is shooting at us. You’ve got to stay—”
“I can’t tell how hurt Dan is, and I’m not going to sit here and wait for someone to kill me. Or to kill you.” Miki knew Dan had a weapon on him, and he fumbled at the man’s side, pulling back his jacket, trying to ignore the gush of warm blood on his hand. He found the gun and drew it, steeling himself for what he knew was waiting for him outside of the car. “D, find your phone or mine and call 911. Dan needs help now.”
“Sinjun!” was all Miki heard as he shouldered open the back door, then launched himself out of the car.
What he knew about guns was pretty slim. Kane had tried to show him a few things, and the two times they’d gone to a shooting range he’d done well enough for Connor to make a joke about Miki becoming a cop. That remark reaped Connor a filthy look and put the rest of the Morgans into a laughing fit Miki hadn’t thought they would ever recover from.
Guns—any kind of real weapon, really—were not his thing. Going into a fight terrified him, and he always went in fueled by rage and fear to end the conflict quickly. There was no way he was ever going to go back into the cage Vega built for him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone take Damien away from him again.
Even if he had to die doing it.
The adrenaline pouring through him softened his rough landing on the uneven road. Trusting the car to protect Damien and Dan, Miki kept himself tucked and took in what he could of the street’s uproar. Someone was screaming at the top of their lungs from an open window nearby, and an SUV’s driver’s side door hung open, its front end smashed into the sedan’s undercarriage. In the chaos of broken glass and torn metal, Miki heard footsteps through the debris, and then a haggard, skinny Asian man walked out from around the totaled SUV.
Miki didn’t need to know anything more about the older man, especially when he spotted the lethal-looking black gun held to his side. And if he needed any further incentive, Miki got it when the man’s hangdog face curdled into a sick smile when he spotted Miki and raised his gun, aiming it at Miki’s head.
“Fuck you, asshole.” Miki returned the man’s smile and fired.
“WE’VE GOT an active shooter not more than a block away from here!” A uniformed young woman popped her head into Casey’s office, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with excitement. “They’re calling for all hands on deck.”
“Stay here. Don’t move until we come back,” Kane ordered Stewart. “I want you someplace we can put our hands on you.”
It took them less than five minutes before Kel and Kane were on the street, but fighting a stream of cops while pulling on a bulletproof vest was never easy. Tugging on the last of his vest’s straps, Kel fell into step behind him, shouting directions at Kane’s back. The choppy burr of a police helicopter grew closer and its loudspeaker buzzed with indistinct instructions, but Kane knew from experience they were warnings for civilians to stay inside.
“Which way? Where do they want us to cover?” Kane yelled at his partner, who finally caught up with him.
“Half block over, side street. Cut in and across.” Kel’s directions echoed the dispatcher droning through Kane’s earpiece. “Just run. Shooter’s gone, but there’s victims on the street. Uniforms are doing sweeps.”
If there was ever a time that Kane was thankful for Miki’s seemingly endless energy and need for long rambling walks, it was now when he needed stamina more than speed. Sirens drowned out everything, making it hard for Kane to hear the dispatcher or Kel, but the wail of an ambulance cutting through the singsong screams of police cars was never a good sign.
Neither was the sea of uniforms surrounding an all-too-familiar black sedan and a long-limbed, hazel-eyed rock star who made kitten noises during sex and liked to eat raw ramen noodles.
“Miki!” His throat went raw with his scream, and when Miki turned to give him a wavering smile, Kane’s world dropped out from under him. He couldn’t remember crossing the distance between them, but a heartbeat later Miki was in his arms, and he was shaking off a uniform insisting Kane step back.
“You’re bleeding, Mick. What the fuck happened?” Kane cupped Miki’s face, tenderly pressing his thumb against the gash on Miki’s temple. “Did anyone look at you?”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to let him go.” The thick-necked officer wrapped his meaty hand around Kane’s upper arm. They were of similar heights, but the cop had nothing on Kane’s rage, and he reeled back when their eyes met. The cop’s gaze flicked down to Kane’s vest, POLICE emblazoned in white across his chest, and then to the badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck. “I’m sorry. I just need to secure the scene, and he’s got residue on him. I need to keep him—”
“Kane, I’m fine. Quit eating this guy’s face and let me go so the Forensics guys can do whatever they need to do,” Miki murmured, breaking Kane’s anger at being shoved back. “Damie’s hurt and Dan—our guy—was shot so much. They won’t let me get Damien out—”
“I’ll see about Damien,” Kel said, patting Kane on the back as he went by. “Ambulance is pulling up, but there’s some guys already on scene. I’ll see if they’ve got the driver stabilized and check in on your boy’s brother.”
“Where’s the shooter?” Kane said to the cop, and then turned toward Miki. “Miki, stay here and I’ll go help hunt the guy down. He couldn’t have gone far.”
“The guy split as soon as I shot him. He got into an old beater. I don’t know what kind, but the thing looked like it was about to fall apart. I didn’t see who was driving it, but I did get a look at the old guy who shot at us.” Miki glanced over his shoulder at where EMTs were climbing onto the car to assess their patients. He chewed his lip and his hands began to tremble. “Kane, I’ve got to get to Damie. I… he can’t go to the hospital without me.”
“You shot at somebody? With what?” If Kane already didn’t have a glacier of worry in his guts, hearing Miki had exchanged fire with his attacker would have sent him into a frenzy. “Where was the man Sionn gave you guys?”
“I told you, Dan got shot—”
“Sir, I’ve got to get someone to take care of his hands first. There’s no way.” The officer stopped short when Kane’s gaze found his face. “Look, I’m just trying to do my job. I’d appreciate it if you backed me up. I don’t need to lock horns with you, sir, because I know I’m going to lose every time, but I was the first on scene and I’ve got to follow protocol.”
“I know. Sorry. It’s an active case, and this is the second time someone’s gone after him,” Kane grumbled. “Mick, let me find someone to take care of testing you. We just need to exclude you from being the shooter. It’s procedure. Officer Kendricks, you got the gun secured, yes?”
“Everything’s locked down. I just need to get a kit going on him, then he’s good to go. I’ve got a witness saying he saw Mr. St. John climb out of the struck vehicle, but I want to cross everything off the list. I don’t want anyone at the DA’s office coming back at me saying I didn’t catch everything.” Kendricks nodded at another cop heading toward them. “That’s my partner with the kit. Just give us ten minutes and we can release you, sir. We’ve got an APB out on an early eighties Volvo painted primer red. One of the other responding officers saw it turning the corner, but we didn’t know it was connected to the case until we caught up here. There’s a bank across the street by the intersection. Someone’s already gone there to ask for any surveillance footage.”
“Good job. Okay, Mick, you stay here and do the damned test. I’ll go check on Damien and Dan for you, okay?” Kane sucked in a long breath. He didn’t like the shivers running through Miki’s body any more than he did the worried fret of Miki’s teeth on his lower lip. “A ghra, stop that. You’re going to bite through your lip if you keep doing that. It’ll be okay.”
“You can’t promise me that, Kane.” Miki’s eyes went flat, accusatory and firm. “You didn’t see Dan. You didn’t see what that fucker did to him. Or to Damie.”
“I can promise you the EMTs will do their best. And we’ll get you there.” One gurney, then another joined the circus around the upturned sedan, and Kane watched as one of the EMTs climbed down into the car. Miki paced, turning around in a small circle as he kept his attention on the medical techs. “Go with Officer Kendricks and get this done. We’ve got a handful of head shots you can go through and see if one of them was the guy you saw today.”
He hated leaving Miki, hated turning his back on the best man who’d ever walked into his life, but Kane pushed himself to take the first step toward the car, then another one, reaching the vehicle as the medics were pulling a limp man strapped to a bodyboard out of the front seat.
If Kane had a choice, he would never leave Miki again.
As he drew nearer to the car, Kane heard possibly the sweetest thing he could ever encounter in the middle of such widespread carnage—a husky, aggravated British voice loudly complaining, “I’m telling you, I’m fine. Just get me out of—ouch—that’s my arm. Fuck.”
It appeared that the Mitchell part of the Mitchell-St. John brotherhood was still intact and running on all cylinders.
By the time Kane picked carefully through the debris from the damaged cars, the EMTs had gotten Dan clear of the front seat and were working on pulling Damien out of the rear. The gurney holding the security guard moved quickly, a paramedic working on Dan’s chest; his chin dipped and his mouth worked fast, spitting out instructions and his patient’s current state into a mouthpiece fixed to his shirt.
“Where are they taking them?” Kane asked one of the attending techs. “I’ve got to follow with the other passenger of the car. I want him looked at too.”
The tech rattled off the name of a nearby hospital, then grimaced as another streak of blue cut-glass profanities filled the air. “St. John’s already refused medical, and the other one is about a step behind that right now. If you can get him to change his mind and cooperate, I’d appreciate it.”
“Let me see what I can do, because Miki won’t get looked at unless someone is poking at Damien.” Kane stepped over more debris, trying like hell to ignore the blood pooling near the sedan’s front tire. It was difficult to get enough height to see into the wide sedan, but standing on the sidewalk helped, and when he put his hand on the door to steady himself, it creaked, then fell to the ground. Peering in, he muttered, “Great, now even the car’s trying to kill me. Damien, quit being an ass and let these guys get you to the hospital. Miki’s bleeding across his head and if you don’t go, he won’t go. I don’t give a shit if you bleed out, but I swear to God, if he’s got a concussion and—”
“Stop your threatening, you overgrown leprechaun,” Damie complained, his shoulders wedged against the back seat as he lay half on a bodyboard the EMTs were trying to work under him. “I’m going. Is Sinjun okay? He took Dan’s gun, and that was the last time I saw him. None of these fuckers will tell me what’s going on.”
“He’s okay, but I want him to get looked at. Dan looks like he’s in bad shape, and Miki’s going to chew through his lip soon.” Kane moved aside as one of the technicians slid down into the car. “I’m going to follow you with him unless I can get him into the bus with you—”
“They’re putting me in a bus?” Damien snarled when the EMT’s fingers touched the spot on his side. “Bloody hell that fucking hurts.”
“Just it’s what they call an ambulance. Just get on the damned thing and stop complaining. I’m going to have silver hair by the time you two are done causing trouble today.” Kane sighed as he heard Miki swear loudly at one of the cops. “And if I have to kill one of you in order to get the other to behave, it’s going to be you, because I can always beg forgiveness from Sionn, but I can’t live without Miki.”
“I DON’T know why they’re keeping Damien if he’s okay. Dan, I get. Son of a bitch took three shots and had surgery, but Damie said he was fine. They should have let him come home.” Miki’s bitching followed Kane into the kitchen, but his cop didn’t look back. Instead, Kane got out a couple of short glasses from a cabinet, then dropped an ice cube into each. After setting the glasses on the counter, he reached for one of the whiskey bottles left on the bar. Holding up the amber-liquid–filled bottle, Kane lifted his eyebrows, silently asking Miki if he wanted some. Nodding, Miki snorted. “Why don’t you just bring the bottle with you? We can sit on the couch and get drunk.”
“Because, Miki mine, I have to work tomorrow, and it is one in the morning. If I am going to lose sleep tonight, it’s not going to be because I fell into a bottle,” Kane said, pouring out about a finger of whiskey into each glass. He stalked back into the living room, where Miki leaned against the couch arm, to hand over one of the shots. Clinking his glass against Miki’s, Kane said, “If I am going to wake up tomorrow bleary-eyed and sore, it’s going to be from me having my way with you until you’re too tired to leave the bed for at least a week. Maybe that way, I’ll know where you are and I won’t worry so much.”
With that, Kane drained his glass.
Shaking his head, Miki took a sip of his whiskey, then sighed. “It’s not like we went out looking for trouble. This time he came and found us.”
“It always comes and finds you. This Sunday, I’m going to go into Saint Anthony’s, light a candle, and ask God to give you your own guardian angel because I really need the help,” he muttered as he took the glass out of Miki’s hand.
“Hey! That’s mine.” The whiskey went down Kane’s throat; then he handed Miki back the empty glass. Staring mournfully at the few drops left pooling around the crackling ice cube, Miki said, “Dude—”
“They’re keeping Damie because they want to make sure he’s not done anything to his guts. And as for the whiskey, I forgot, you have a concussion. So none for you.”
“Maybe. I might have a concussion. Doc said he wasn’t sure,” Miki corrected. “And I deserve something after today. I even looked at all the damned photos you gave me. Not my fault the guy wasn’t there. Or if he was, I didn’t recognize him.”
Kane’s face changed. Under the scant light, he looked older and more tired than Miki’d seen before. He reached up to touch Kane’s mouth when Kane cupped Miki’s jaw, pulling his chin up and staring down into his eyes.
Emotions played about in the smoky blue depths of Kane’s gaze, flickers of awareness Miki couldn’t begin to pin down. His cop was often hard to read, masked behind a veil of authority when working, and sometimes, despite Kane’s best efforts, the blood and gore followed him home, deepening the shadows in his eyes.
And sometimes, Miki was the reason Kane shouldered a darkness he’d never asked for and couldn’t quite seem to shake.
“I love you, a ghra,” Kane murmured. Pressing his mouth to the taped-over slice on Miki’s temple, he hooked his arm around Miki’s waist, pulling him closer. “God, I can’t take many more days like this. I want to put you in a room until this is all over so I know you’re safe.”
“Dude, I’m already stuck in the warehouse. Anything smaller and I’m going to chew my own leg off.” He kissed Kane’s thumb, then bit at its swell. Hissing, Kane jerked his finger out of Miki’s mouth and let go of his face, shaking his hand. “Today was… fuck, that guy pissed me off.”
“I still can’t believe you shot him,” Kane whispered. “And you don’t know if you hit?”
“No idea. I just pointed and pulled the trigger. Dan shouldn’t drive with the safety off, but hell if I’m complaining about that. I just wanted that guy gone. I wasn’t going to go all Duck Hunt on him.” Miki shrugged. “I just wanted him to know I wasn’t going to go down easy. And I’d be fucked if he got to Damie or Dan.”
He let himself be cuddled, sliding his legs in between Kane’s. His knee hurt, and he was pretty sure he still had bits of glass in his hair, but it felt good to be home.
It felt like heaven being in Kane’s arms.
“How about if you and I take a shower and I wash every inch of that gorgeous, bruised body of yours.” Kane bent his head, stealing a brief kiss. “Then, if you’re up to it, let me show you how damned glad I am you got to come home with me.”