Sinner's Gin by Ford Rhys

Author:Ford, Rhys [Ford, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2012-12-22T16:00:00+00:00

“FUCKING hell,” Miki swore as he tripped over a sneaker.

His leg hurt, and the throb in his knee was nearly seismic as it thumped its displeasure. The Nike was too large for his foot, and he blinked, trying to make sense of the size eleven shoe in the middle of his bedroom floor. His answer came to him in a rush of memory: disheveled black hair, a sinful Irish whiskey voice, and delectably large hands cradling him as he unsuccessfully tried not to cry. He sniffed, catching a whiff of Kane on his clothes, and yawned again, padding out to the living room to find out what all the yelling was about.

The front door was open, and Miki scrubbed at his eyes when the watery afternoon sun hit his face. Taking a few steps from the threshold was a mistake. When his bare feet hit the long swatch of damp grass separating the warehouse from the cement walk, a crowd of people swarmed toward him.

Miki turned his head, ignoring the crowd. He spotted his dog and limped over to where Dude stood, furiously ravaging a man’s pants leg. Further down the walk, Kane shoved a beefy-faced photographer to the ground, shattering the man’s camera when he threw it onto the asphalt.

Amid all of it, nearly every single person clamoring in on him was shouting his name, trying to get his attention.

“Miki! Is it true you murdered your own dog and blamed it on a stalker?”

He didn’t spare the man a second glance. Dude was done chewing up the tabloid reporter’s pants and was beginning to nip at the tender flesh he found under the fabric. The man’s alarmed shouts were shrill, and Miki precariously bent over to lift the dog off the ground. His knee joint protested being twisted around but held as he stood back up.

“Dude, cut your shit,” he scolded, hefting the dog under his arm.

“Miki! Over here! Is this man your new lover? Have you finally gotten over Damien’s death?”

“There’s a rumor the Mitchells are suing you over the rights to Sinner Gin’s songs. How do you feel about that, Miki?”

“Is this the detective investigating your prostitution charges? Do you have any comment about that?”

That caught Miki’s attention, and he narrowed his eyes at the reporter as he limped past the swarm to where Kane was shouting at the man he’d pushed. Dude squirmed in Miki’s arms, barking his head off at the people trailing after Miki like lost ducklings. The noise level rose and overwhelmed him, a buzzing cacophony he’d not missed since he was released from the hospital. The badgering stalked him with every step Miki took. Questions followed him, voices shouting after him about his injuries, his damaged relationship with Damien’s parents, and the dead man found in his garage.

“Let’s go back inside,” Miki shouted at Kane so the man would hear him above the fray. “I’ll call the cops.”

“I am the fucking cops!” Kane growled back. “God, I’m going to shoot one of these assholes.

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