Dirty Laundry (13 page)

“Hazards of being married to my limp-dicked brother.” Her arms were too fast and long to dodge, so I resigned myself to the stinging slap she gave my arm. “Hey, I can’t help it if you chose the shorter end of the stick. If you’d been a guy, I’d have been all over you.”

“Well, then I dodged that bullet, didn’t I?” I playfully hissed at her as if her retort stung. “You done eating? I’ve got head-yelling planned, remember?”

“How about if you just start the screaming, and I’ll jump in to defend myself when I’ve got my mouth free?”

“Start with the blood. What happened?”

I gave her a quick rundown, both of the case and what happened at the café. By the time I was done, we’d polished off half of the pizza and nearly a six pack of the root beer. I didn’t have enough to build a connective picture, but it was worrisome enough, especially since I couldn’t figure out why people were dying or how it was all connected to Madame Sun.

“Maybe it’s not through her.” I mulled.

Maddy stopped putting her legs together and looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s not Sun they’re targeting. Maybe it’s Gyong-Si.”

“What about the girl tonight? The one who died? How is she connected to Gyong-Si?”

“Yeah, that’s a flaw, but there’s something there. I think he’s as tangled up in this as much as anyone else.” I mulled the problem over. “Need some lotion?”

“Nah, I’m good. Got some here, thanks.” She held up a yellow bottle. Slathering some on the ends of her legs, Maddy finally got to yelling at my head. “Talk to me about Jae.”

“Oh, here it comes.” I rolled my eyes. “What has Mike told you?”

“He said you have your head up your ass and that you can’t see anything but your own hemorrhoids.” She dug out a pair of white limb socks, shook them out, and smoothed out their green-woven openings. Maddy laid them on the couch and stared me down. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that stupid head of yours and why you thought you should be out standing in the middle of a gunfight instead of asking Jae to take you back?”

“It wasn’t a gunfight. It was more like a game of fish in a barrel. Whoever shot up the place
knew
Vivian Na was going to be there,” I pointed out. “So they shot her.”

“I noticed you avoided talking about Jae-Min.”

“And I’ve noticed it’s none of your business.” I tried to look superior, but Maddy had the market cornered on that one. Years of prep school and a genetically provided aquiline nose definitely gave her an edge. I crumbled when her piercing gaze shot lasers down her razor-sharp bridge. “He said he needs time. Well, he said that right after he said
get the fuck out because you’ve screwed up my life
, but like Bobby said, I should cling to whatever piece of wood floats by or I’ll drown.”

“So that’s why you went out looking for murderers?”

“I went out looking for murderers because that’s what I’m getting paid for.” I left off the part about not charging Madame Sun. The less Maddy knew about the profit margin of the job, the better. “What did you expect me to do? Sit around and knit slouchy hats for alpacas while I wait for Jae to decide to throw me away? I’ve got to do
something
, Maddy. Work seems better than drinking. Bobby’ll only pour me into bed so many times. I’ve already used up one get-out-of-ass-kicking card over this.”

“The cops got this, right? That detective’s a good guy. He’ll do the job.” Maddy left off tightening bolts and feet to touch my hand.

“She
died
on me, Maddy. Literally. I can’t forget that. I won’t forget that. I was the last person she saw in this damned life. What do you want me to do with that?”

“I want you to put it aside and think about other things,” she said gently. “Like your brother, Ichiro, coming to visit. Mike invited him. He’s coming in a couple of days. Mike wants you to sit down with him and talk.”

“Fucking great. That’s all I need right now.” If I didn’t already have pressure built up in my chest, I sure as fuck did now. Eyeing Maddy, I asked, “Is that why you came over? To do Mike’s dirty work and tell me he’s gotten me a baby brother?”

“Nope, he doesn’t know I’m here.” She picked up her foot piece and slid it into its slot on her leg. “He wanted to tell you after Ichiro got here. I thought you didn’t need to be ambushed by your brother. The one I’m married to.”

I was too tired to be angry. News of my mother’s precious son descending into Los Angeles was the last straw. My life was a fucking wreck. The woman who’d taken me under her wing was lying at home nursing wounds from a madman I’d brought to my front door, and the lover I struggled to understand was playing J.D. Salinger with his sister in a cinder block hole barely big enough for one person to live in, much less two. I had a string of murders I couldn’t seem to connect even though I
knew
they were, and my hands held miniscule echoes of a woman I’d never really met.

On top of that, I had an unwanted and unknown brother encroaching on my already stressed life and a furry black diva upstairs who cried in the middle of the night while she searched for the man who’d brought her here.

Yep, too fucking tired to fight anymore. It was time to just bend over and let life fuck me like it wanted to—hard and raw.

“He’s going to be ticked off you told me,” I sighed. It wasn’t Maddy’s fault I was being unreasonable. Actually, I didn’t think I was being unreasonable. Mike wanted to spoon-feed me an entire ready-made brotherhood when I was still choking on my teeth after my father kicked them in.

“I can handle him.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Thighs that can crack a walnut, remember? Seriously, think about meeting Ichiro. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I can hate his guts because my mom dumped me with a fucking asshole father and didn’t look back?” I offered. “You know, the man who said he’d rather see me dead than happy with a guy? That asshole. Remember him?”

“Don’t make this about your mother or even your dad, Cole,” Maddy replied. “We don’t know why she did what she did or what kind of life Ichiro had with her. Find that out for yourself. Give him that chance. Yeah, you might not like him, but hate him because of who he is, not because of who he’s become in your mind.”

I walked Maddy to the door, making
Six Million Dollar Man
noises behind her. I earned myself another playful slap and a friendlier sister-in-law kiss good-bye. Shutting the world out, I tossed out the pizza box and turned off all the downstairs lights. Neko was waiting on the landing, meeping softly while trying to assassinate me by tangling her puffball body between my ankles.

I placed her on the bed and did all the nightly things, minting up my mouth with paste so she could sniff at my face and rub her bony cheek over mine before I fell asleep. My sheets were cold against my skin when I slid between them, and I shuffled around the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position. I was losing the scent of Jae on one of them, and I briefly pondered spritzing a bit of his cologne on it.

“Fuck, you’re pathetic, McGinnis,” I scolded myself. After turning off the lights, I’d just lain down when my phone chirped at me from the nightstand. The screen flashed, staying bright long enough for me to grab it.

It was a small text, nine letters sent through wires and dusty air, but they grabbed my heart and shot waves of lightning through its dead flesh. After pressing the phone to my lips, I returned Jae’s text, bouncing his word back to him. The knot in my chest unraveled when I inhaled deeply, and for the first time in almost a week, unfettered air struck my lungs.

“
Saranghae
too, baby,” I murmured into the air, hoping the stars would pick it up and wrap him tight until I could hold him again. Cradling my phone, I fell asleep, letting Jae’s cat and pixilated affection keep my nightmares at bay.

I
DANCED
back, shuffling my feet and ducking my shoulder. It’d been too long since I’d been in the ring, and my gloves seemed heavier than I remembered. The smell of my padded helmet at least was familiar, dried sweat and rank desperation creeping past my nostril hairs. The cheek protection on my helmet made it hard to see, but Bobby insisted I buy a full mask, saying he didn’t want to mess up my pretty face.

Personally, I think he was taking advantage of my diminished line of sight and blasting the side of my head with his fists. He denied it. The ringing in my ears, however, gave me all the evidence I’d ever want.

I got a jab in, one strong enough to rock Bobby’s head back. It probably was a mistake. Taking the shot. Not that the shot was a fluke. I could box. I could hit hard. I knew how to put my weight against the punch and follow through. God knows, I pounded the shit out of Mike growing up and then moved on to bigger, stronger guys in high school who decided the McGinnis boys needed a beating.

No, taking a shot at Bobby’s head was a mistake because it told him
all bets were off
and I was willing to go a few hard rounds.

I didn’t know if my healing body could take it, but I wasn’t going to have much of a choice. He narrowed his eyes and he curled his shoulders in, hunting me across the mat with a predatory stalk.

Yep, definitely a mistake.

JoJo’s was normally a loud, raucous place. Men shouting and grunting as they worked through their routines of bag work or sparring. The few women who made it past the door and into the stink were hard-eyed and lean-bodied, serious athletes who came to the boxing gym to learn the sport or to hone their muscles. Most of the men were gay and blue-collar. It wasn’t a place for twinks or ass-wiggling flirtations. You walked through JoJo’s doors ready and willing to get pounded on or pound the crap out of your body.

From the look in Bobby’s eyes, I was seriously considering going to join the twink spinning class down the street if it would keep me safe from his gloved fists.

Oh, he hit me, but not with his hands. “So, that stupid grin on your face because of your boy, or did you finally see some sense and get a new piece of ass?”

Luckily, I could still see through the wash of red across my eyes to find Bobby’s face with my fists. The smack-smack of my gloves hitting his padded head only went so far. I needed to feel him stepping back, giving way under my blows. Unfortunately, Bobby retreating back across the ring wasn’t the only thing that gave way. A twinge in my shoulder burst into a larger, spreading fire, sparking a panic in my nerves. My upper arm muscle gave out first, then the ball joint, my movement scraping down to a slow crawl. Clutching my arm to my side, I didn’t see Bobby’s roundhouse until it was too late.

Then all I saw was the caged wire overhead lights hanging down from JoJo’s camo-gray high ceiling.

Oh, and birdies. Small blue birdies. Roger Rabbit had
nothing
on me.

“Shit, kid!” Bobby’s face swam into view, a wavering mash-up of eyes and a nose with a mouth slanting upward toward his right ear. “I thought you were dodging down.”

“Can’t,” I mumbled through the birds. “Arm gave out. Fucker, you hit me blind.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even. You were beating the crap out of me.”

“Step back, you damned gorilla,” JoJo grumbled from behind Bobby, shoving him aside. His sun-wrinkled face was a blur of burnt umber and yellow teeth. He hadn’t shaved that morning, so a thin mat of gray and black whiskers covered his loose jowls. “Didn’t you see the boy was favoring that arm, Dawson? What’s wrong with you?”

Bobby rumbled back at JoJo but cleared a space for the old man to get in. “JoJo, did you miss the part where I was the rug and he was beating the sand out of me?”

“I’m good.” I tried sitting up, but the gym swirled a little bit. Bobby slid his arm under me and hoisted me to my feet.

“Let’s go get you checked out. I probably gave you a damned concussion.” Bobby sounded worried. It was hard to see his face because everything was skewed and a bit dark. Blinking, I tried to clear away a fuzzy line across my right eye, focusing on the black ant trails it made.

“Shit, dude.” I dug my heels in. “You knocked my fucking helmet sideways. I can’t see a damned thing. I’m fine. Just need to shake it off.”

“Go on! Get back to what you were doing,” JoJo grumbled at the boxers crowding around the gym. “Dawson, get your boy off the mat and watch his head.” JoJo’s palm was bright pink, his leathery skin stretched tight over his bony upright fingers. He took my helmet off, and I breathed a sigh of relief, sucking in air. “How many am I holding up, McGinnis?”

“Two,” I answered. He gave me one of his patented shar-pei frowns but let Bobby hoist me under the ropes.

“Get him into the showers. If he starts tossing his cookies, you get him to the ER,” JoJo muttered at Bobby’s back. “Fucking asshole. Next time you don’t watch where you’re hitting him, I’m going to give you an ass kicking myself.”

“I think you pissed him off.” I was speaking to Bobby’s armpit. Straightening made my head spin a bit, but it was better than before, and I was no longer whiffing my best friend’s sweaty hair clumps. “Pissed me off too.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d see if I could get you mad. Shake things up a bit.”