by Rhys Ford
Another roll and Trey couldn’t stop himself from arching his back, desperate not to lose the sensation of Kuro’s weight against his cock. Sharp teeth on his throat sliced through his hold on his own release and Trey fumbled to find his burgeoning length, but Kuro was there first, those damnable, talented long fingers closing on him and stroking up in time to Kuro’s thrusts.
The tickle of Kuro’s hair on his chest was enough to jerk Trey back to reality and focus on the man giving him pleasure. Squeezing down on Kuro’s plunging shaft drew a throaty growl out of Kuro’s parted lips and he rose up onto his knees, riding Trey’s writhing body while pulling on his erection. He drove deep, alternating his angles until Trey could no longer see straight. It was too much, too soon, and the sparks burst free, crackling through Trey’s entire body, a fierce storm breaking loose of his control.
He came, clenching his teeth hard enough to make his head ring, but Trey couldn’t—wouldn’t—let go of Kuro. He dug in, working his hips up to meet Kuro’s now erratic rhythm. He found a length of throat to lick, then a bit of collarbone to chew on while Kuro stiffened, his body shaking as he poured out his release into Trey’s heat.
The reverberations didn’t stop. Trey felt no desire to crawl out from under Kuro’s weight and take a shower or a hit off of powder scraped across a mirror. The night crept back into the room, tiptoeing softly around the neon flashes, the burst of a car engine gaining speed and the mix of chatter punched up with gleeful laughter when a crowd of people passed by them on the sidewalk three stories below.
Trey didn’t know what to do with the peace beating feebly inside of him. He was almost afraid of the silence, afraid of the lack of pain. He’d carried so much weight and anguish for so long, the freedom of his spirit was too light, too brilliant for him to embrace it as his own. He was so free of his burdens, a strong wind could have picked him up, plucking him from the bed and carrying him into the night sky without him noticing.
But he didn’t want to leave. Kuro was wrapped around him, all long legs and arms, breathing softly into Trey’s ear. They lay side by side in an awkward half-spooning position much too comfortable for Trey to break. He was sticky and damp from sweat, aching in places he hadn’t for years and sensitive to the touch in others. Kuro’s fingers were roaming over Trey’s body, stroking at tender skin throbbing from a bite, then delicately running a fingernail across Trey’s nipple, bringing up another ache Trey could get used to.
“Can I just lie here forever?” Trey mumbled, not caring if Kuro heard the truth in his words or would dismiss them as sex-drugged rambling. “You make it so it doesn’t hurt when I breathe. I can’t remember—”
“You don’t have to remember,” Kuro said, closing his mouth over Trey’s. The kiss was nearly as intimate as the sex they’d shared, an exchange of body and soul deepened by the emotion behind it. When Kuro pulled back, Trey sucked in as much air as he could, hating that he had to breathe but relieved at the touch of Kuro’s lips on his. “I’m not asking you to forget where you’ve been, but look forward to where you’re going to go. And most of all, let me celebrate where you are.”
Seventeen
KURO’S FIRST sip of coffee in the morning was always a religious experience.
He’d always enjoyed food. Even the basest of junk foods held a certain fascination. But coffee was one of his true loves. In a pinch, the sour, bitter, oily brew found at a corner convenience store would do, but if he had a choice, he sought out medium-dark roasts with a chocolaty undertone and a caramel finish. He had his favorites, a Ka’u-grown, family-owned coffee packaged in a gold-foiled bag with a picture of the owners’ grandchildren on it, as well as a commercially produced blend named after another coffee lover, a former Army officer. There were others in his curated collection, but those were his two favorites, the ones he reached for when life was going fantastically well or horribly bad.
Waking up next to Trey started the day off as the former.
Watching Holly come up the stairs from his formerly locked front door turned his day to the latter.
The coffee, however, remained as delicious as it had been at the first sip, and he took a third simply to piss Holly off and make her wait for his attention.
“Most people knock,” Kuro said above the rim of his coffee cup. “Some even call ahead.”
Yuki met her at the top of the steps, sniffing at the toes of her boots. Holly bent over, scratching at the cat’s head, finding the spot between her ears that made Yuki drool. The woman was dressed for a murder or to seduce, black leather pants with ebony riding boots paired with a white T-shirt and a bloodred leather jacket. No one in their right mind would believe she was up to any good, and Kuro knew her too well to assume she was there for his continued well-being. Still, it was good to see her outside of the stone walls she’d been hiding behind, even if she’d probably come to stick a knife in his back.
It was too much to hope that she’d come to remove one.
“I locked the door behind me.” She matched Yuki’s purr, scooping the cat up and cradling her against her chest. Yuki rubbed her cheek against Holly’s shoulder, leaving a glistening trail of spit on the glossy leather. “And I do so adore your cat.”
“Evil often recognizes other evil,” Kuro replied, saluting her with his cup. “Do you want some? Or would you rather I brew you some tea?”
“Coffee is good. I can trust what you’ve made is decent, unlike some people I know.” Holly slowly crossed the floor, her boot heels beating a sharp tattoo on the wood.
Gracefully lowering herself onto the couch, she twisted to face Kuro, turning her blind eye away from him. The seam of her prosthetic limb left an embossed line in her snug pants, breaking the fabric’s sleek fit, but if he hadn’t known she’d lost that part of her leg, he wouldn’t have noticed anything from her gait. She was a master at hiding her weaknesses, and exploiting them in others. Keeping silent would be the smartest course of action, but Kuro also couldn’t resist poking holes in Holly’s rigid dignity.
“I don’t have belladonna. Will creamer do?” Kuro added two spoonfuls of sugar to the coffee he’d poured into a dragon-shaped mug he’d gotten from a farmers’ market in Half Moon Bay. He took her derisive snort as a yes and lightened the brew to the color of his skin. “Did you ever think maybe I had company?”
She waited until he joined her on the couch before answering, taking the cup from him. “I know you have company. I keep track of a lot of things in the city, including you.”
“I don’t work for you anymore,” he reminded her. “In case you forgot.”
“That could change. I wish you hadn’t come to Los Angeles. Having you so close by makes me miss the game.” She shifted Yuki to her lap, stroking the cat’s flanks. “I was especially concerned when I heard you circled your way around the front door of a certain crime lord’s establishment. It made me realize how out of touch I was with what is happening in your life.”
“Once again, I don’t work for you.” He valued her friendship and the mentoring she’d given him along the way, but Holly always had an eye for what was going on behind the scene, and retirement didn’t seem to be sticking. He knew the calculating gleam in her eye, having become entangled in more than one mission because she had to pull a certain string or influence a particular outcome. “Pops has his finger on the city’s pulse and, sad to say, a lot of connections you don’t have. Someone is trying to kill Trey. They’ve already killed his best friend, a godfather he didn’t know, and that man’s twin brother.”
“I can help you,” she offered with a smile Kuro trusted as much as he believed Yuki would leave a slab of raw salmon untouched if it was lying on his kitchen counter. “And doesn’t he have a sister who is a police officer? Shouldn’t the LAPD be working on this?”
“You and I both know the cops are only going to operate within a certain set of rules,” he murmured as Yuki slid off of Holly’s lap and swam across the couch to him. “For example, if they find out who is doing this—wh
o is behind this—they will arrest them and we will have to wait for justice. I, on the other hand, have a more permanent, immediate solution.”
She studied him, the tilt of her chin forcing her face up to grab at the morning light coming through the windows. “You’ve never killed for me.”
“I worked for you. If you needed someone dead, you’d do it yourself,” he pointed out. “Right now, my good nature is being tested, and I’m not so sure I would deal with whoever is terrorizing him in a very humane manner.”
He blinked, delving into the depths of his feelings toward Trey. Broken and humbled, Trey still possessed a ferocity and will he admired, taking in the condemnation of his family while nursing his past wounds. He wanted to see more of Trey’s smiles, hear him laugh, and most of all, be there when Trey decided he’d had enough of his family’s demeaning abuse and struck out to find his own way. Last night had been a gift, a sliver of serenity they’d shared under warm blankets and laughter. Despite the chaos surrounding them now, Kuro wanted more of that peacefulness, days and even years more than the few hours he’d gathered up around him last night.
“Is he worth it? Because if you commit murder, I won’t be able to protect you,” Holly said flatly. “There’s only so much influence I have, and I’m not sure you’re worth me calling in any more favors.”
“I don’t plan on killing anyone. Not yet anyway, but if I’m in a situation like the one they put Trey in the other day, I’m not going to say no to bloodshed.” Kuro tsked. “Is that why you came here? To tell me you’re pissed off at me?”
“I’m not angry at you, darling,” she replied in a husky drawl. “I’m disappointed in you. I know how much it cost you to go to that man and—”
“If I owe someone something, you would rather it be you?”
“You are not wrong.” She smiled. “But mostly, it showed me how lackadaisical I’ve become. You didn’t feel as if you could come to me. That I wouldn’t be able to find what you need. I didn’t realize how much that would sting. How much a part of my presence in that sphere is so closely aligned with my identity.”
“Pops is local. This is where you live but not where you have ears on the street.” Kuro moved his cup away from his curious cat when Yuki started sniffing at his coffee. “I needed to get more information than what the cops would share with me. I don’t want to go into this thing blind, and the LAPD has this rule about confidentiality. So I reached out to see what I would find.”
“To a coxcomb of a young man named Rooster,” Holly said, chuckling when Kuro shook his head. “If I put my mind to it, I can find out anything. And I’ve decided I’m bored. As much as I love the puppies and the gardens, I’m not… challenged. I’m becoming a museum piece, something people come to admire and study for their research. That’s going to change. I need to stretch back out, darling, so I’ve decided to dabble a little bit. For instance, your little friend Rooster? He works for me now. Exclusively.”
“Pops is not going to like you picking off his resources, Holly.” It was a very careful line he had to walk, leaving himself open to Holly’s friendship because he cared about her but not so available she would drag him into whatever machinations tickled her fancy. “And what are you planning on doing with all of this?”
“For one, keep myself entertained,” Holly replied, leaning over to pat him on his knee. “Secondly, I meant what I said about not liking you having to reach out to him. You’ve come so far from there. There is no reason for you to go back, not when I can give you what you need with a little effort on my part.”
“I love you. You know I do, but you and I both know your little efforts cost sometimes way too much,” Kuro pointed out. “I want to put this matter with Trey to bed and go back to making ramen. I’m too old and damaged to be jumping out of moving cars and having gunfights. There’s other things I’d rather be doing, and I’ve already put in my time.”
“I’m not asking you to do jobs, but I would like to have you on board as a consultant,” she said.
“Aoki is off limits,” Kuro warned her. “I don’t want you getting him killed.”
“Agreed.” Holly held her hand out. “Can we shake on this?”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.” He took her hand, kissing her fingers, then letting them go. “You didn’t just come here to tell me you were going to breach your retirement. What’s going on?”
“I’ll admit I got very interested when I got ahold of your informant and he shared with me the information he’d gathered for you.” Holly waved off Kuro’s irritated hiss. “You are a fool if you think he didn’t have a copy made of the data he gave you.”
“No. I would expect that, but I don’t know why you felt like you needed to dig through it.” Kuro glanced back toward the bedroom door, keeping his voice low to let Trey sleep. “From what I gathered, Robert Mathers has been dead for a very long time. The body was thawed out and refrozen several times, so that tells me it was either stored very improperly or—”
“Someone needed fingerprints or DNA over the years,” she interjected. “Since he and David weren’t identical twins, their prints wouldn’t match.”
“I’m going to guess the allegedly big blowout argument with David was a cover for Robert’s murder. There was a security report lodged about David beating Robert rather badly, requiring facial surgery.” Kuro dug through his memory, recalling the coroner’s initial findings. “Things started looking suspicious when the frostbitten body looked like it had Robert’s fingerprints but the other showed evidence of the plastic surgery. That’s when it all started to unravel.”
“So it’s safe to say David has been living as Robert for years now, but we still do not know who killed David.” Holly tapped at the rim of her cup. “There has to be another person in this mix. Someone who helped David slide into Robert’s life and who set their hell hounds after Trey because he saw Robert’s body as it was being moved.”
“They probably assumed he knew who Robert was because his father was Robert’s friend.”
“Couldn’t be that good of a friend if he hadn’t noticed David stepped in.” Holly tilted her head, her lips turned up into a ghost of a smile. “But I think Harrington Bishop the Second’s relationship with Robert Mathers was all for show. Casual and only frequent enough to be remarked upon. At that level of wealth, one has to maintain appearances, solidify connections whenever you can.”
“What makes you think Mathers and Trey’s father weren’t really friends?” Kuro cocked his head. “Robert left Trey a fairly hefty inheritance, but Trey never saw him. What else would be the reason he would do that unless he was honoring his role as Bishop’s friend and Trey’s godfather?”
“Because Robert Mathers was Trey Bishop’s true biological father.” Holly purred with satisfaction when Kuro sucked in his breath in shock. “And there is a very funny little clause in Robert’s will that states if he should have any offspring, legitimate or otherwise, all terms of his will become void and that child or children inherit the whole lot. We are talking over five hundred million dollars, darling. More than enough incentive to make sure Trey Bishop doesn’t live another day.”
“SO LET me get this straight.” Kimber rubbed at her temple, her hand on her hip, pushing her jacket back and revealing the gun at her side. “You think Dad isn’t your father and Robert Mathers is?”
“Um, yeah, according to… people,” Trey replied, coming out of the kitchen with a mug of black tea for his sister. “Maybe. Allegedly. I don’t know. Kuro, help me out here.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins, help my brother out here,” she snapped, taking the steaming cup. “Because I was there when the whole this isn’t my baby changed into the second coming of Christ. The DNA tests came back as proof Dad was Trey’s father. I was there when they opened the envelope. My father celebrated like he’d found Bigfoot, the lost gold of the Incas, and discovered time travel, when a few seconds before, he was ready to toss the baby out with the bathwater along with the whore who’d brought it i
nto the house. His words. Not mine.”
From his vantage point, perched on the couch’s wide arm, Kuro debated his options. It was his experience people didn’t like outsiders to meddle in family affairs. That was pretty much a worldwide philosophy, but he knew Trey well enough to know he was hurt and angry when his jaw tightened at Kimber’s careless statement. He waited a beat, listening for Trey’s objection, then realized Trey probably no longer heard the toxic poison in his sister’s words. Trey said nothing, his reaction quickly buried beneath a stony mask.
“I’ll thank you to keep that kind of shit to yourself when you’re in my house.” Kuro slid into the conversation, meeting Kimber’s stare as she turned around to face him. “I’m talking about the whole Trey is a cuckoo in the nest crap and then the dig about him being your dad’s favorite. It’s bad enough your family trots out that story in public, but it seems to me you blame Trey for how your father behaves. You’re punishing him for things outside of his control. If you’ve got a problem with your father, take it up with him, but you shouldn’t beat up on Trey because you’ve got daddy issues.”
“I did fuck up a lot,” Trey interjected, probably trying to keep the peace, but Kuro wasn’t going to be diverted. “She’s not wrong on that. I’ve got a lot of crow to eat. Like Thor drinking from Utgaroa-Loki’s horn levels of crow to eat.”
“First, I get that. And you’re trying to fix things. Or at least trying to fix yourself,” he said, holding Kimber’s attention. “I wasn’t there for it. I don’t know what you all went through, but I haven’t been around for very long and I’m already sick of all of you holding him over the coals. I can’t demand anything from him. I don’t have the right or the inclination to tell him not to see his family, but I can demand you don’t treat him like shit while in my house. If you can’t agree to that, I can show you where the door is.”