by Amara Kent
“Shit,” he hisses.
A coat is wrapped around me and he brings me onto his lap. Cradling me in his arm, my head leaning against his chest. Tears escape, cascading down my cheeks, slipping in between my lips. The saltiness adding to the memory of what could have happened. Of everything I’ve held in for all these years. Ren rocks me, stroking my hair. There are no words to be spoken. Nothing that can be said to make this situation any better. Nothing will ever make it better.
“Oh my God, Kerri!” I hear Taylor shout in panic. Heavy footsteps pounding against the ground.
“What’s… Ren?”
“Where were you?” he demands to know, accusingly.
“I was with someone, tying up some stuff for the shoot tomorrow,” she explains, weakly. She knows how it sounds, and I know how she’s feeling. I’m practically choking on the intensity of her emotions.
“I’m glad you were able to sort that out, then.” There’s a menace and bite in his tone.
“What happened? Does she need to go to the hospital? What are you doing here?” she rattles off quickly.
“I saw a man forcing himself on her so I rushed over and pulled him off. He didn’t get to… she’s bleeding, we need to take her to the hospital just in case.” His body tenses up and his voice is full of anger, coming out rough. “I came here to try and talk to Kerri, and good thing I did. Who knows what state she’d be in by the time you decided to show up.”
There’s a beat, creating a moment for the tension to ring loudly in the air. He shuffles, and I move along with him. I can’t look at either of them right now. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes and the self-loathing in hers. I can’t handle anything more than what I’m already feeling.
He speaks to another person in Japanese. Some pauses in between indicate that he’s on the phone.
“Who did you call?” Taylor asks.
“I called my driver to go home. I’m taking you two to the hospital. She needs to get checked.”
“Uh. Okay,” Taylor says numbly a few seconds later.
Awkwardly, I’m lifted and carried over to the car. Taylor jogs quickly to the back passenger door and opens it for Ren. I’m placed gently inside and buckled. A few minutes later and we’re moving quickly along the streets of Tokyo.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ren
I pace up and down the length of the row of seats in the waiting room. She’s been gone three hours. Three hours and not once has a nurse or doctor come to speak to us. I’ve threatened and begged every passing staff member here to tell me what is happening with Kerri, but no one in this shithole can or will tell me the status of her condition.
“Will you sit down?” Taylor grumbles under her breath. I ignore her and quell the fury that is bubbling up once more at hearing her talk.
“If you had been there with her to begin with, she wouldn’t be in this position!” I shout at her. A nurse standing behind the nurse’s station hits me with a scolding glare.
“You think I don’t already feel like shit enough?” She hisses at me furiously, standing up and getting in my face. “She’s my best friend and…” She chokes a little on her words. “She’s my sister, and because I wasn’t there, this happened to her. I don’t need you to point out how much this is my fault.”
“You said she didn’t respond to your message. You didn’t think to wonder, why not? For someone who’s like a sister to her, you’re doing a rather shitty fucking job acting like it,” I throw back. It’s not fair, I know.
I know as much as the next person that there is no chance in hell she could have prevented this. We both know deep down that nobody but that asshole ex of hers is to blame. Garrett. When Taylor told me about the person who had attacked Kerri, I wished I had done more damage to him. Wished I had slammed his head against the hard wall of the building over and over until he felt even an ounce of what it felt like to be Kerri.
When I had stumbled across her, she was bloody and scared and trembling ferociously. Her eyes were closed and she had this pained look on her face. It made me white hot with rage at seeing her in such a condition. There’s only one reason why a woman would close their eyes in a situation like that.
They’ve been there before.
I know I shouldn’t blame Taylor, but no matter how much I tell myself it’s not her fault and rationalize it all in my head, my emotions take over and words of cruelty spill out. I need someone to blame, and right now, she’s it, because I can’t for the life of me aim this hatred toward the person that really deserves it.
“Mrs. Lukas?” I whip around to the sound of the newcomer.
“Yes?” Taylor springs up.
The doctor in a white coat holds his hand out. “I’m Doctor Ito, your friend, Miss Bradford’s doctor.”
Taylor takes her hand and shakes it nervously. “Hello, Doctor. How’s Kerri?”
“Well—”
Taylor’s hands clap over her mouth and tears well in her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whimpers, bottom lip trembling.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Lukas, Miss Bradford is okay. She has suffered a concussion and a minor skull fracture due to the impact. She has a large wound on her head that required stitches, but she will be fine.”
My hands turn into fists and I have to stop myself from slamming them into the brick wall. I knew she was in a bad shape. Saw it as soon as I cupped my hands to her face and felt the blood sticky in her hair and dripping down her face.
“When can we see her?” I demand to know.
“Ahh, you must be Mr. Hattori?” he asks.
I nod my head. “When can we see her?” I demand again, in a low growl.
“You can come see her now. Please, follow me,” he instructs, leading the way.
We make our way to her room in silence. I didn’t want her to be in a room with anybody else, so I made sure that they put her in a private room. We walk in, and she lifts her head up to look at us with a tense smile on her face. She’s trying to pull it together, but there’s no need.
“I have explained to Miss Bradford what is required for her healing, but I will inform you as well. When Miss Bradford is right for discharge, one of the nurses will provide you with a prescription for some medication to assist with the pain. She will also need to be closely monitored to ensure that she hasn’t suffered any major damage. She has suffered a concussion, and we want to keep her here overnight. The fracture to her skull was luckily, only a hairline crack, so in a few months it will heal on its own. She will be back to her regular duties after a couple of weeks, but please still take it easy until it’s fully healed. You will feel pain for about the next five to ten days. Who will be taking care of Miss Bradford?”
“I will,” Taylor and I say in unison. She shoots me a disparaging look, which I ignore.
“You have filming to do, which isn’t going to go on hold because of this. Someone needs to take care of her,” I throw at her.
“As I recall, she isn’t exactly your biggest fan right now, and the show is nothing without her. Filming will have to stop until she is ready. I highly doubt the network will force her to work in her current state,” she retorts.
“You really think I can trust you to take care of her?” I raise my voice.
She steps up to me, chest planted against mine. “I can’t believe I defended you.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “You know what, fuck you! I—”
“Enough,” Kerri spits out hoarsely. Our heads spin around to look at her. A scowl masking her beautiful features. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this, doctor. I assure you that neither of my friends here will make another scene. I will make sure they conduct themselves in a socially appropriate manner,” she says softly to the doctor, who nods his head.
“Don’t take too much time, she’s going to need plenty of rest,” Doctor Ito states to us firmly, before walking off.
As soon as he’s gone, Kerri slams us with an irate look. “I’m going to tell you this once, and once only, so you two better listen. Ren, T
aylor is not at fault here, so you can quit blaming her for what happened to me.” I thought about arguing with her, but the look on her face demands acquiescence. “And Taylor, Ren did save me. I’m not saying it should have been you, but try to see it from his point of view.”
“But—” Taylor goes to interject.
“It doesn’t matter what he’s done in the past, right now. What matters is that I’m okay and if it hadn’t been for him…” She trails off.
She doesn’t need to say the rest. We’ve all thought it. He would have raped her and taken her with him, and Taylor would never have known where to find her.
Taylor’s body shakes, and she takes in Kerri’s exhausted form. “Are you sure he didn’t…?” she asks, allowing the word to fall into the silence. Neither of us can bring ourselves to say the word.
“I’m sure,” Kerri nods.
“How—?”
“They did a test,” Kerri cuts her off.
The fucking cunt is lucky he didn’t violate her in such a way. There’s no telling what I would have done had I caught him in the act. I would probably be sitting behind bars, rather than standing by her bed at the hospital.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ren
Five months later…
I look up at the set of apartments in front of me. This is where the asshole, Garrett, lives. After I found Kerri in the predicament she was in, I had pretty much made it my life’s mission to ensure the dick got what he deserved. I could have done what I needed to the day I found his hands all over her. Found him trying to shove his dirty dick inside of her while her eyes squeezed tight in pain, but it would have done nothing to help her. She didn’t need a man to take his fist in revenge for her. She needed a man with a gentle hand to help as she fell from the tower she resided so powerfully in. I let him go, knowing that it wouldn’t take me long to find him. I let him go, so he thought he had gotten away with his crime.
Apartment 16B. That’s where he currently lives, with his girlfriend. The girl he met not long after he had arrived here. Hotaru is her name. She’s twenty-eight years old and works as a bank manager. She and I had a little chat one day, and working the same kind of charms I’m sure he did—but for actual good intentions—I had her divulging all kinds of information about Garrett and her relationship with him. I know his surname. Bowers. I know everything there is to know about him. It’s amazing the kind of things you can find out on the web. Illegally, of course, but I know how to cover my tracks so I’ll never be discovered. I don’t condone hacking; not anymore, anyway, but sometimes to serve justice, certain semi-shady actions are required in order to do it. That reasoning will never hold up in court, hence why I cover my footprints.
Kerri has no idea I’m doing this. I know she’d tell me not to, despite having had her head bashed against the wall and practically raped by her ex-boyfriend. Her abuser. It’s probably the reason why I’ve stopped talking to her. I knew that if I continued, then I would end up telling her what I was doing and she would try to stop me. She wouldn’t be able to, but she would never forgive me for going against her wishes.
Retrieving my cell phone, I send a quick message to Hotaru to advise her that I’ve just arrived. I asked her to arrange a time where I could be alone with him. She was very happy to oblige to my request. It appears as though he’s slipping. His reserve and his fear that he’ll be pulled up by the Japanese police is something that seems to be putting a bit of a strain on his sanity. He hasn’t hit her yet, but the well-worn formerly pristine costume he once wore so proudly when luring women was showing signs of wear and tear. I’m glad to hear he has yet to show any real physical violence toward Hotaru. For the next half an hour or so, she will be with a friend, but told Garrett she was going into work. Being a bank manager, it is utterly believable that she would be required if there was some emergency. I listened in on the conversation. She was a star actress. I’ve been waiting nearby for her to send me a message to advise she had left. I waited a few minutes more before I made my way out the front.
Pressing the fob on my car keys, I stride up the steps of the modern designed apartment complex. As I walk in, I give a wave to the security guard sitting at the desk and make my way to the elevator. Pressing the button, I step inside and punch in the code to get to Hotaru’s level. There’s a buzz that flows in my body. The excitement and anticipation of what I’m about to do thrills me, forcing a slow smile to creep up on my face. The elevator dings and the metal doors slide open. A husband and wife bow in greeting as I step out and I turn down the left until I reach the apartment. I take a few moments outside the door. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I push down the little rush of adrenaline that mixes in with the excitement. The kind of kick that wants to grab his head and throw him out the window that allows the sunlight to stream into the hallway. We’re sixteen stories up so there is a chance his head will crack on the concrete floor. I know, I’m being very brutal and two wrongs don’t make a right. I welcome you to tell Kerri that. Of course, this is something I wouldn’t actually do because I am above that, and I am above hurting a life in such a splendidly cruel way, but they never said you can’t daydream about it.
When I believe I have a handle on the darker emotions, I knock on the door twice. There’s no sound, and I’m about to knock again when I hear the distinct sound of a lock clicking and the handle being pushed down. As soon as he sees me, the door is slammed in my face. Good. I was hoping you would remember me. It will save a lot of time having to explain who I am. I take a small step back and kick open the door right under the handle. Most people who attempt to do this always go for the middle, but that’s not where the mechanisms of the door are, nor is it the weakest point. The most sturdy part of anything is in the middle. The farther you travel out, the weaker it becomes. It hits the wall with a bang and a startled Garrett does the only thing a man can do when confronted in his home. He goes to fight. Charging at me like a wild man. I dodge the fist that comes flying at me, grabbing the offending limb and wrapping a hand around his neck, digging my thumb into his windpipe, forcing him back against the wall.
“Now, are you going to cooperate, or am I going to have to restrain you?” I ask him, relieving the tension a little on his neck. A glob of spit lands on my face and I growl at the offending fluid. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Garrett.” With a swift kick to the balls, I pull out a strap from my pocket and secure his wrists behind his back, picking him up off the ground and pushing him onto the couch. I make my way to the kitchen and wipe his spit off my face, before heading back to sit on the single armchair across from him. “Are you going to behave?” I ask.
“Fuck off,” he growls out.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that the straps around your wrists aren’t made of fabric. Well, there’s a very good reason for that.” I lean to the side and take my phone out of my pocket, going straight to the app that controls his restraints and press the button. He jerks in his chair and lets out a fierce hiss. “That was two-thousand volts that went through you. The equivalent of touching an electric fence. The highest setting is one that has the same impact as a bolt of lightning. Be careful how you treat me, Garrett, I can change my mind and tighten it around your dick.”
There’s a line of drool flowing down his chin; his eyes harden into slits. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Garrett Troy Bowers. That’s your name, right?”
Silence. I sigh, rolling my eyes, notching up the voltage and pressing down on the button. His body flails around. A strangled cry drifts over to me.
“Y-Y-Yes, I’m Garrett Troy Bowers!” he stammers.
“Thank you, and do you know who I am?”
“A member of the Yakuza?” He sneers.
I shake my head. Such a brave move for someone who’s in the situation he is in. And for that matter, why do people automatically connect Japanese men with gangs?
I hit him with a bolt of electricity again, and he jumps a few centimeters in the air. “You want to try
that again?”
“I don’t know who you are,” he responds hoarsely.
“No, I’m not part of a gang. A rather racist assumption, but unsurprising. I can’t really expect someone of your disgusting caliber to be better.” I tsk. “You should always know who you’re dealing with, Garrett. For instance, I know that your mother gave birth to you in her car, a few minutes away from the hospital. She abused you and neglected you throughout most of your childhood. Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure is where your love of abusing women who resemble your mother in the slightest way, comes from. Bad history usually does come back to haunt those around us. It didn’t help that you were a rather gawky looking kid, not the well-muscled man you are today. This had you bullied at school a lot. Your teen years weren’t any better, and your time at college even worse. However, despite the constant bullying, you managed to graduate with a law degree. Kudos to you. Do you see where I’m going with this, Garrett?”
His head moves up and down rapidly, and I smile. “Who are you?” he asks weakly.
I scrunch my face up in disgust. I don’t know why, but it makes me angry seeing him so weak. It angers me that he’s just a weak, pathetic little boy under that suit of dominant man he wears every day.
“I’m Ren Hattori. I know it’s foolish to let you know my identity, but I’m looking at this from a positive standpoint. Now you know the name of the man that can ruin your life. If you don’t know already, I own one of the top three tech companies in the world. I have abilities that go way beyond your level of comprehension. You know, when I was just seven years old, I hacked into the education boards online system? My parents weren’t very pleased when they found that out. You have not received true punishment until you receive one at the hand of a very irate Japanese mother. Then, when I was older, I hacked into top-secret government sites. This is stuff I shouldn’t have been able to do, but I did.”