Murder and Mayhem by Ford Rhys

Author:Ford, Rhys [Ford, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

What Montoya—Dante—wanted was worse than standing on the edge of a high-rise with only a thin steel braid stopping him from becoming a splatter on the street below. He didn’t share. Sex was something to have and be done with, like eating a pot of ramen over the sink so he didn’t have to do dishes.

And much like gulping down hot noodles, the idea of talking about things to a cop—even one whose dick had been inside of him—gave Rook heartburn.

The problem with Dante Montoya was that he was good. Not the tiptoe through the forest, sing to forest animals kind of good, but a more brutally real, honest-to-God, throw himself into the line of fire for someone he didn’t know kind. Rook didn’t have it in him to even understand that kind of good, yet there he was, cuddled up against a white knight as if they were starring in a Hallmark commercial for Valentine’s Day.

“Think less. Talk more, Stevens.” Dante nudged Rook’s shoulder with his chin.

“Why is it I have to call you Dante and you can still call me Stevens?”

“Because I have a gun.”

“Nice.”

Dante snorted. “Anything. This is a trust thing. If we’re going to be—”

“Tangled,” Rook interrupted. “If we’re going to call this fucking mess anything, it’s going to be tangled. We’ll ride this out for as long as it takes us. Then we walk it off, right?”

Dante was silent behind him, and Rook swallowed the prickly anxiety rolling up his throat. The cop finally sighed and hitched Rook even closer, molding his body against Rook’s back until there was barely enough space between them for air to move.

“There’s a lot of things I don’t understand about you, cuervo. I get that your mother wasn’t—”

“Around? Sober?” he suggested quickly and tried to remember the last time he’d actually spoken to Beanie. “So many words to choose from.”

“I was going to say maternal.” Dante’s hands were moving again, a soothing caress over his belly. “I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”

“Dude, there are so many words to describe Beanie—Beatrice. Stupid’s one. That’s the one I come up with the most, you know?” He thought back on the day when he’d first seen the mansion his mother called home. “She went off to join the goddamned circus because she didn’t want to finish up high school. How screwed up is that? But that’s Beanie. She’d get this brilliant idea about making jam—which she doesn’t know how to make—come up with this soupy, fruity crap but won’t have anything to put it in. Typical Beanie.”

Dante stopped his stroking, and Rook wrinkled his nose, hating that he missed the touch.

“I take it you aren’t close, then?”

“You have to see someone more than a few times a year to get close to them, right?” Rook asked. “What kind of stupid bitch walks away from being rich just because she can’t keep her legs together or a thought in her head? That’s my mother for you. Don’t know what surprises me more.

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