Summary
A lip gloss-wearing angel, Rukawa Kaede rouses unexpected fantasies in Sendoh's mind. He's also one of the attorneys hired to keep Sendoh from going to prison for murder.
Having been burned before, Rukawa avoids playboy types like Sendoh Akira. Rukawa believes in honesty, black and white, but the attraction between them creates incendiary clouds of magnetic gray.
When Sendoh stands trial, Rukawa is determined to help prove his actions as self-defense, but too many suspicions shadow his thoughts.
1
Sendoh didn't give two shits he'd stabbed some douchebag to death with a butcher knife, but Japan's PD sure as fuck did.
On a Thursday afternoon, he sat in an interrogation room rather than his personal office, waiting for the questions to begin. Goosebumps rose across his skin from the chill. Having been covered in blood earlier that morning, he'd been stripped of clothing for evidence and had been allowed to dress in old gym clothes from a bag in his Mercedes' trunk.
Even though he'd made the 911 call to inform the authorities about the break-in and how he'd defended himself, he still got a luxurious ride in the back of a cruiser- cuffs and all.
While he hadn't been arrested, a body lay in a pool of blood on his sister's kitchen floor, and Sendoh wore a bit of the dried splatter across his face that had sprayed from the fucker's neck after the killing stab.
He'd deserved what he got--
The heavy door pulled open, and a single detective entered.
"Just a reminder that these rooms are recorded," the detective said, sitting down across from Sendoh, his eyes as cold as his tone. "Would you state your name for the record?"
"Sendoh Akira."
"And I'm Detective Mitsui who you met earlier at your sister's house." The detective spouted off the date and time before settling into silence as he looked Sendoh over.
Sendoh didn't twitch beneath the man's steady stare. He'd learned long ago to not show weakness when doing business, and he refused to see his current situation as anything outside the norm.
"Tell us what happened today."
Not allowing himself to suck oxygen into his lungs to steel his nerves, Sendoh launched into his tale, a firm grasp on his emotions and adrenaline-crashed body. "I went to my sister's instead of my office this morning to fix her kitchen drain. The front door opened about five minutes after she left for work, so I called out to tease her about forgetting something which she's always doing. Avana didn't answer, and heavy footsteps alerted me to the fact it wasn't my sister."
The detective leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his face blank, but Sendoh could tell the guy didn't believe a word of his story. He'd have one hell of a time proving otherwise though.
"I got up," Sendoh continued, "rounded the island to find out who the fuck was in her house, and that's when the guy entered the kitchen with a gun. I managed to grab his wrist, the gun clattered to the ground, and his fists started flying. Fucker wasn't that big, but he held his own enough I feared for my life."
Sendoh pointed at his-eye which hadn't fully swelled shut but hurt like a bitch from the fucker's granite knuckles. "So I grabbed a knife from the butcher block and stabbed him in the gut. The guy was like a raging bull- kept coming at me no matter how much I managed to slash him until we ended up on the floor. I got lucky and had a clear target at his neck, so I took the opportunity."
Not one ounce of regret lined Sendoh's voice, but considering what the guy har broken into his sister's house for, Sendoh wouldn't ever feel bad about ending his life.
"Once he quit fighting, I called 911. You know the rest."
Detective Asshole/Mitsui had been the first on the scene and studied him in silence a few moments.
Sendoh didn't so much as twitch an eyelash.
"Now tell me the truth."
"That was the truth," Sendoh didn't hesitate to reply.
The detective pulled his cell from his back pocket, giving Sendoh a reprieve from the inquisitive stare, but Sendoh didn't slump, didn't let out a heavy exhale to release tension from his shoulders.
No. Sendoh Akira knew how to keep steady and portray confidence even when under fire. As the CEO of a prominent acquisitions firm and having been trained by his father; the best in the business. Sendoh's devious side was honed to perfection.
He sat unmoved, feigning an unaffected nature. Calm, cool, and collected in the midst of the shit he'd gotten himself into.
Wasn't the first time he'd landed in trouble. Probably wouldn't be the last. His temper sometimes overcame his better senses...
Lips in a thin line, the detective shoved his cell back into his pocket and leaned forward onto the table, arms crossing. "You're aware your sister has security cameras?"
No glint in the detective's eyes, no excitement of having one-upped Sendoh.
Telling as fuck.
"Of course I'm aware," Sendoh replied, suppressing his smirk. "I paid for the installation. The evidence is there to prove my story."
"The footage would suggest otherwise."
Sendoh easily held in his snort at the bullshit line. Detective Mitsui- definitely an asshole- thought to lie and strip Sendoh up. Once the detective went off the straight and narrow, Sendoh lost his desire to be helpful.
There was only one reply he would grace the detective with. "I'd like to call my lawyer, Maki Shinichi of Maki Law."
Detective Mitsui's already thin lips firmed, but he didn't argue or badger. The law prohibited him from doing so.
"Phone?" he snapped out, and Sendoh rattled off Maki's office number.
Seconds later, the door slammed behind the detective, and Sendoh settled in for another wait, not the least bit concerned.
Minutes ticked by, and no one entered to ask if he wanted something to drink or a blanket. Enough time lapsed that Sendoh quit trying to keep from shivering, and he wrapped his arms around his core. He closed his eyes, relieving every minute of the day in vivid detail- and he also went over the story he'd told, word for word in his brain.
The truth as everyone would know it.
There would be no evidence to prove otherwise.
Avana had been protected and Sendoh took great satisfaction in being there yet again for his little sister. The only person on the face of the earth who loved him unconditionally. The only one he'd been able to rely on.
Ever.
He supposed a day would come when a good man would take his place in her heart, but even then, Sendoh would always have her back.
No matter what.
No matter when.
No matter who he needed to end.
Having done it once, he'd do it again- without a second thought.
The door handle clicked, and Sendoh opened his eyes.
He'd expected Maki himself, so a glance at the stranger entering the room furrowed his brow.
Five-seven at the most- a damn boy for fuck's sake- posh and freshly pressed... designer suit...red shirt a shade too flashy. Clean- shaven square jaw like those boys on a Calvin Klein runway...red-shadows lip. Perfectly formed nose. Raven-black hair.
And striking pale blue eyes that caught Sendoh's breath.
A waft of sweetness, almost sexy as hell, swept over him as he drew near.
Sendoh didn't give the detective behind the beautiful man a glance as he stored forward with assurance, a cocky tilt to his head.
The first-ever male to catch Sendoh's eye and a surge of adrenaline sent blood rushing to his dick. Perhaps he wasn't as hetero as he'd thought- but the boy- was pretty enough Sendoh's dick didn't care what he hid in his pants.
"Rukawa Kaede." The boy stuck out his hand. Smooth. Manicured. Fucking clear polish. "I'm a new associate attorney at Maki Law."
"Where's Maki?" Sendoh asked, reaching to accept the offer of his hand.
"Court."
Their palms clasped, static electricity racing up Sendoh's arm and pulsing sudden need through him, but he remained outwardly unaffected.
Rukawa sucked in a quiet, quick inhale, and Sendoh allowed his slow smile, the flash of interest to show in his eyes to let Rukawa know he wasn't the only one dealing with insta-lust and blood swelling in his groin.
Sendoh never had a man before, hadn't once considered getting up close and personal with another dick, but he wasn't everse to Rukawa. Every inch of his pale skin marked up from Sendoh's fingertips and mouth seemed like a damn good idea. Time well spent.
Rukawa tugged his hand away from Sendoh's firm grasp and settled into the chair beside him, sending a flood of his scent up into Sendoh's nose.
Sweet as fucking honey.
Sendoh's mouth watered, his dick going hard as granite. He didn't care if Rukawa stood or sat to take a piss. He just wanted to yank on the slightly wavy hair atop his head, taste his lips, and drink down his whimpers while Sendoh ravished him.
Strikingly beautiful, Rukawa could easily become an obsession.
Sendoh hadn't been antsy to get the fuck out of there until that moment. He wanted Rukawa alone, to do all sorts of nasty shit to him, ethics be damne-
"Is our client being charged?" Rukawa asked with a firm tone, snapping Sendoh back to the present situation he'd created for himself.
At least the boy didn't waste time or breath and sounded as confident as his attire suggested.
Why did that fact thrill the fuck out Sendoh's dick?
The detective eyed Sendoh, his cold stare still intact, but a twitch of his lip let Sendoh know he wasn't pleased. "As of right now, no," the detective finally answered the lawyer's question.
"Then he's free to go." Rukawa got up without hesitation.
Sendoh mirrored his movements and towered over the taller lawyer by a good six inches. Rukawa could have been an elf with how willowy and gracefully he moved across the room. Hot on his heels, Sendoh filled his lungs, discretely tucking his interested dick in the waistband of his mesh shorts. At least his T-shirt covered the leaking tip peeking out at the top.
"Stay in town, Mr. Sendoh," the detective stated from behind them as someone opened the door to let them pass. "And be available for further questioning."
Sendoh didn't bother replying, his snort and good luck only inside his head. He'd taken out the trash, and it was time to deal with the adrenaline still coursing through his bloodstream that desperately needed an outlet.
tbc
Disclaimer - I did not own Slam Dunk.