Cole McGinnis 05 - Down and Dirty Read Online Free PDF Page A

could go back in time, he’d punch that someone in the face, because watching Jae inch his way to one was going to give him ulcers.
    “Should you be doing that anyway?” Ichiro couldn’t stand it any longer, and he paced down the side of the theater floor, walking down the steeply angled aisle until he was directly below his friend. “You were shot.”
    “I was shot months ago, and the doctor said I could resume normal activity—within reason.”
    “This is so not within reason.” Ichi’s heart leaped up into his throat as Jae reached the balcony and threw one leg over the balustrade. “I don’t think he’d agree being Batman was normal activity—or even close to reasonable.”
    “This is nothing. You should see—oof—what Cole and I—”
    “I don’t want to hear that. Not about my brother. Or you. I don’t need that in my head.” He took a few more steps, hovering beneath his friend. Jae’s camera swung from a strap around his neck, and the lens nearly caught against the railing when Jae slid over into the balcony. “I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.”
    “Aren’t you supposed to be watching for security?”
    “I’d rather we get arrested. Who is going to catch you if you fall? Me? I need my hands. I’m an artist. I swear I’m going to let you drop.”
    “I’m not going to fall,” Jae promised, dusting his shirt off. He rotated his arm, unable to stop a slight grimace from showing on his face as he stretched.
    “I saw that. How the hell are you going to get down from there without killing yourself?”
    “I’ll grow wings. Now shut up and get underneath me so you’re not in any of the shots,” Jae scolded. “I’m losing light. The sun won’t be coming through those windows for long.”
    Ichiro glanced up at the windows, the long panes once covered by blackout curtains now hanging in tatters from wrought-iron rods. Chains dangled down from metal rings set between the fabric, their ends heavy with elaborately carved wooden pulls. It’d been a risk to pull the curtains open. There were too many what-ifs involved—mostly whether or not the fabric would even hold together as it was gathered up to the end of the rods, but other than a heavy spray of dust and a few dead insects, the curtains parted easily.
    He certainly wasn’t looking forward to pulling them closed—any more than he was excited about watching Jae extract himself from the tiny balcony above him to get back down to the theater floor.
    “Just don’t kill yourself. I don’t want to have to explain to Cole why I’m bringing you back in a plastic baggie.”
    “Please stop saying that. Besides, he wouldn’t blame you. I can hear him now—oh, agi , what have you done now? Like he can talk for all the stupid things he does.”
    “Why do you let him call you that? It’s like calling you a baby. Like a baby baby. It’s kind of… strange.”
    “Because it’s silly. He called me baby the first time, and I told him if he was going to call me that, it should at least be in Korean. It took me a while to figure out he meant it in a good way. I thought he was telling me I was a kid.” Jae sighed loud enough for Ichiro to hear. “So now it’s a word between us. I like it. It’s… warm. Hard to explain. Now shut up so I can work.”
    “I can hear myself now. Sorry, but Jae’s a pancake, Cole. A Jae-Min pancake,” Ichi grumbled under his breath when Jae hissed at him from above. “Work fast. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    Snugged up against the wall, Ichi sniffed at the cloud of mold and dust surrounding him. The dankness of wet wood and soaked-through plaster clung to his nose, and he stifled a sneeze, rubbing at his face to make it go away.
    He could appreciate the beauty of the theater. Even in its disgrace, the interior was gorgeous. Despite the flaking paint, black damp splotches, and disintegrating fabrics, the place had good bones, and the stonework was incredible.
    Now if only Jae would hurry