Dirty Kiss by Rhys Ford Read Free Book Online

thought.”
     
    “I guessed that. The not reading Korean part.” Tracing the symbols with his fingers, Jae pursed his mouth, a look of confusion briefly flitting over his face. “This doesn’t make sense.”
     
    “Suicide rarely makes sense.” I’d heard that in the past. A couple of years ago, I’d found out how true that saying was. “Believe me; it always leaves more questions than answers.”
     
    Kim Jae-Min was more perceptive than I gave him credit for. His tawny gaze raked over me, a silent question in his eyes, but he left the matter alone and picked up the piece of paper to hold it in his hands. “I meant the note. It doesn’t make sense.”
     
    “The report said it translated as he was sorry for doing this… the suicide.” I came closer, looking over his shoulder. It wasn’t an excuse to press against him. Actually, I wasn’t even sure why I drew near since I wouldn’t be able to read what he was pointing out to me. It seemed rude to suddenly jerk back, and the scent of him filled me, that tangy masculine smell sweetening the strain of the conversation.
     
    “Hyun-Shik wrote, ‘Mian, naneun igorseul haeya haeyo’.” Jae looked up from the note. I turned, giving him some room. His shoulder brushed my arm, and he left it there, the barest of touches between us. He moved with an unconscious sensuality. Either that or it was so practiced that he didn’t think about it anymore. “It would make more sense if the note said, ‘Irokke hal su pakke obsor yukamida’.”
     
    “And the difference is?” I was going to have to learn Korean before the end of this case. The subtleties in the culture and language were going to kill me.
     
    “It kind of means the same thing, but what he wrote has to do with an obligation. Not that he regretted causing pain to others.” Jae struggled to find the right words to express his thoughts. “The other one is closer to, ‘I regret I have to do this’. Hyung wrote, ‘Sorry, I’m obliged to do this’.”
     
    “Maybe he was thinking of the family’s honor?” I dismissed that as soon as I said it, and not just because Jae-Min rolled his eyes at me.
     
    “We’re Korean. We just avoid doing things to embarrass ourselves. We don’t slice ourselves open like gutted fish because we’ve dishonored our family.”
     
    “Hey, I was thinking out loud,” I protested. Jae’s reproachful look was nearly as searing as Claudia’s. “And I rethought it. He wouldn’t have killed himself in a… um.”
     
    “You can say sex club.” Jae went back to stirring the soup, checking the firmness of the vegetables, taking his warmth with him. “I know what Dorthi Ki Seu is.”
     
    “Okay,” I replied. “So what was he obligated to do? And why did he kill himself at the club?”
     
    “Isn’t that what Uncle is paying you for? To find those things out?” There were sounds coming from the living area, a loud chatter of women’s voices, and he glanced at the door as if expecting Grace to come flying back into the kitchen.
     
    “The truth is, I’m being paid to sniff around a little bit and then go away.” Diplomacy was never my specialty. I was more of a “club people over the head to get information” and apparently “running away from shotgun-toting elderly lesbians” kind of guy, but I wasn’t going to share that with Jae-Min. Our relationship hadn’t progressed to a point where humiliation was served up with a cup of tea and a smile. “But I’ve never liked following orders.”
     
    “Someone ordered you to walk away from hyung’s death?” His hands stilled, holding a handful of mushrooms over the broth.
     
    “No, not walk away. It’s just assumed that Hyun-Shik killed himself, so there wouldn’t be much to investigate.” The soup now had mushrooms in it, the curled ears bobbing in the hot liquid.
     
    “Is that what you think? That Hyun-Shik killed himself?” Jae’s teeth returned to their nibbling, marking his lower lip. If he