by Lanyon, Josh
Chapter Six
In an effort to drum up business on what was typically the slowest night of the week, Fubar was advertising Dirty 30 with Sigma Alpha Spank! Ryo felt old just reading the lineup of festivities. Beer pong! Flip Cup! Dart board! Spank! Shots!
Did they do anything in this place that didn’t involve exclamation points?
But then he saw Kai sitting in his usual corner and everything was good again.
Unaware of his approach, Kai sipped his crimson cocktail and, with a small flourish, added an embellishment to the napkin he was drawing on.
Ryo reached the table and rested his hand on the back of the chair across from Kai.
“Can I join you?”
Kai glanced up. He didn’t look surprised to see Ryo. He didn’t look pleased either. “Oh. It’s you.”
Ryo jiggled the chair. “May I?”
“Why so polite? You know you’ll sit down whatever I say.”
Ryo pulled out the chair and sat down. He leaned forward so he could be heard over the music. “Why wouldn’t you take my calls? I tried calling you four times today.” It had been closer to seven, but the last few times he’d hung up when he heard Kai’s message come on.
“I didn’t have anything to say to you.” Kai’s gaze was cool and direct.
“Maybe I had something to say to you.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to hear it.”
Ryo drew the napkin Kai had been doodling on toward himself. The sketch was of a pig in a police uniform. His face warmed, although maybe that was the alcohol. He’d had a couple of drinks at the bar before he’d noticed Kai. No. Before he’d had the nerve to even let himself look for Kai.
“Nice,” he said thickly.
Kai’s mouth curved into that three-point smile. He laughed silently at Ryo. Ryo’s temper flared, but then he got his first clear look at Kai. Kai had a black eye.
Ryo’s jaw dropped. “What happened to you?”
Kai’s face grew solemn. “Somebody punched me.”
“Who?” Ryo was angry and ready to return the favor. Then comprehension took shape. “Torres?”
A malicious spark lit Kai’s eyes. The good one, anyway. “Maybe you did, Detective Miller. Maybe you tried to beat me into saying Mickey’s alibi was false.”
Ryo drew back in his chair. He stuttered, “I-I never touched you!”
“How soon they forget!”
“You know what I mean. I never—I wouldn’t ever—”
“Yes?”
Ryo swallowed and half whispered, “Hurt you.”
“All you’ve done is hurt me.”
Ryo didn’t know what to say.
Kai said, “Who would believe you? Your fingerprints are all over my place. It would be your word against mine.”
Ryo couldn’t seem to tear his stricken gaze from Kai’s glinting one.
“Maybe I should report you for police brutality? What do you think?”
Ryo’s lips parted but no words came to him.
Kai seemed to find that funny. He leaned back in his chair, laughing.
He was crazy. Ryo could see that now. Kai was out of his head. He had probably planned this trap with Torres.
The whole thing played out in his mind’s eye like the last reel in a film noir with himself in the role of patsy.
Kai righted his chair before it tipped over. He gulped, “You should see your face.”
“Why would you do this to me?” Ryo asked. “I didn’t—”
Kai stopped laughing. He said in a low, furious voice, “Why would you go to my grandfather? Why would you tell him all that shit about me and Mickey?”
“I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not lying. I asked questions, yes. And I guess, yes, from those questions, it’s possible your grandfather could infer—but I didn’t give him any details. If he got details, he got them from you. You filled in the blanks yourself.”
“Right. It’s my fault!”
“I’m not saying that. Of course I’m not saying that. I’m only saying—”
“You think Akira Tashiro doesn’t have the means to find out anything about me or anything about your case he wants to?”
It wasn’t something Ryo had given a lot of thought to. But he hadn’t seen Kai’s grandfather as an enemy. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, probably won’t listen to me, but you’re in a dangerous situation. I thought maybe your grandfather could…I don’t know. Apply pressure.”
“Pressure.” Kai’s face twisted. “Nice. You mean blackmail. Bribery. Coercion. But you see, I don’t need my grandfather’s money.”
“There are different kinds of pressure.”
“There sure are.” Kai spoke with contempt.
Ryo reached across the table to cover Kai’s tensed hand with his own. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you.”
Kai stared at their joined hands and then raised his gaze to Ryo’s. “Yeah, well I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true.” Ryo dropped his voice. Not that their conversation could be heard over the wall of noise surrounding them. “I guess it sounds crazy. I don’t know what it is about you, but from the first time I saw you, I wanted to—”
Kai laughed, a short, unfriendly sound. “That I believe.”
“It’s not just that, though yeah. I do want that. All the time.”
Kai’s lashes swept down demurely. When they rose again, his eyes seemed to shine with an unholy light. “You want it right now?”
God help him, he did. Kai Tashiro scared the hell out of him, but it didn’t change wanting him. Ryo nodded as though hypnotized.
Kai looked pleasantly interested. “Want to trade seats? You sit here in the corner and I’ll sit on your lap. You can do me right now.”
“I…”
“No one will see. No one will know. This chair is well in the shadows.” Kai gave an inviting wiggle on the chair and Ryo had to close his eyes. He was terrified he was going to disgrace himself right there in public. He was terrified at how badly he wanted to accept Kai’s insane challenge.
“It would feel so good.”
Somehow, despite the music, the voices, the general noise, he could hear Kai’s soft voice. Hear him quietly chuckling. Ryo burned with shame and anger. It was humiliating to want someone like this, humiliating to be laughed at, humiliating to deserve being laughed at.
“No? Too shy?” Kai’s voice was derisive. “How about the men’s toilet?”
Ryo shook his head sharply.
“I didn’t hear that. No?”
“Shut up,” Ryo whispered.
“Okay. How about out back?” Kai’s chair scraped.
Ryo opened his eyes.
Kai stood over him. He wore a short black leather jacket. He was leaving. His smile slanted as he studied Ryo. He shook his head sadly. “No?”
Ryo motioned negative. He had no words left.
Kai said, “Then I guess you better just come home with me.”
* * * * *
They barely managed to get the door locked before they were ripping each other’s clothes off and falling to the plush runner on the shining hardwood floor.
When it was over they lay on their backs, not speaking, their harsh breaths the only sound in the room.
At last Ryo turned his head. Kai’s eyes were closed, his expression withdrawn, remote. “I think I…”
Kai opened his eyes, turned his head to face Ryo. He raised his eyebrows.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Ryo said, instead.
Kai made an expression of distaste. “Of course you can. Of course you will. Until you get bored and move on to the next piece of ass.”
Ryo shook his head. His heart felt heavy. He had handled this wrong from the first. Was it possible to fix something that had gotten off to such a bad start?
“You can’t think that’s all this is to me?”
Kai made a contemptuous sound. He trilled in a falsetto, “Because for the first tim
e in your life you’re soooo in luuuurve!”
There were only a few inches between them, but it felt to Ryo like reaching across a vast distance. He rested his hand against Kai’s cheek, tracing his thumb with feather lightness along the brow bone above Kai’s badly bruised eye. “Does it frighten you so much that someone might really care for you?”
Kai’s eyes squinched shut. He jerked his head away. Ryo viewed his averted face, the quick, rough rise and fall of his chest. Kai said roughly, “Then what should I think?”
“Kai.” A strange warmth flooded Ryo’s chest, an emotion that seemed to crowd out everything else, all the fear and insecurity and anger. There was no room for it in the wake of so much tenderness and compassion and…love.
Yes. Love.
He opened his mouth, but Kai said suddenly, “I earn my own way. Every penny. The trust fund is…something else.”
“Of course.” Now Ryo was not sure what they were talking about.
“I don’t need it. I want it.” Kai turned back to face Ryo. His eyes glittered. Tears? Ryo’s gut tightened. He didn’t understand, but the thought of Kai’s tears moved him almost past bearing.
He nodded, not daring to speak.
“I’m Tashiro’s heir. And I will stay Tashiro’s heir.”
“Sure.” Ryo couldn’t help asking, “What does that have to do with anything?”
Kai threw him a quick, furious look and was on his feet and moving down the hall.
“Okay,” Ryo said to no one in particular. He sat up. His jeans were tangled around his ankles. He pulled them up, zipped them, got to his feet and shrugged back into his shirt.
He looked down the hall. Still no sign of Kai.
Ryo walked into the kitchen, found the liquor cabinet. An impressive selection but no vodka. He checked the stainless steel freezer, and found a bottle of Belvedere. He splashed a couple of ounces in a short glass and drank it down. He poured a second drink.
Kai appeared, dressed in navy sweatpants and a flannel shirt. His hair was knotted in a loose ponytail and he wore glasses. “Pour me one.”
Ryo complied. As he handed the glass to Kai, Kai’s gaze flicked to his. Behind the scholarly-looking spectacles, his eyes were a warm and lovely red-brown, like fox fur.
“You took your contacts out.”
“They were bothering my eyes. I’ve been wearing them too much lately,” Kai admitted.
Ryo was smiling. “You have eyes like a kitsune.”
Kai laughed. He took a swallow of vodka and choked. “It tastes like poison. How can you drink it straight?”
“I like the taste. If it’s the real thing. If it’s good quality.”
Kai made a face, drained his glass. For a moment he stood looking at his empty glass.
With this recognition of his true feelings, Ryo seemed to have gained insight into the object of those feelings, and he recognized that Kai was self-conscious and unsure of what to say or do next. Because? Because he still didn’t believe or understand what Ryo was trying to say to him? Or because he didn’t want to hear it?
Ryo said, “I asked you out three times before you finally said yes.”
“Oh. That.” Kai’s smile was rueful. “I think maybe I do sort of remember you. I thought you were too…I don’t know. Arrogant. Conceited. Slick. I don’t like slick guys.”
“Oh.” Ouch. “I’m not that slick.”
“I know, dude.” Kai was laughing at him again, but without meanness. “You try to be, though. I don’t need that.”
“What do you need?”
Kai gave him an uncertain look. “I don’t know. What everybody needs, I guess.”
“Mickey Torres?”
It was like a door slamming shut. Kai said flatly, “You know what I believe? I believe you want what you think Mickey has. That’s about as deep as it goes with you.”
“Not true. Not fair.” Kai was turning away, and Ryo caught his arm. “Three times, remember? I quit going to Fubar because I couldn’t take seeing you there night after night and knowing I wasn’t ever going to get any closer than across the room.”
Behind the spectacles, Kai’s eyes went wide and soft and vulnerable. The pulse at the base of his neck beat visibly. But when he spoke, he said, “I have an arrangement with my grandfather. As long as I don’t bring disgrace, dishonor, to the Tashiro name, I remain his heir. If I fail in that, I lose everything. All of it goes to Kenji. So, you see, any kind of a real relationship, an open relationship, is out of the question while Ojiisan…”
Back to Ojiisan and the trust fund. Were they really walking in circles or did it just feel that way thanks to how much Ryo had had to drink that night? He said painstakingly, “Got it. But you said you don’t need his money.”
“And I said that I wanted it. That I intend to have it. Every penny of it. And then, you know what I’ll do?” Kai’s face flushed with the intensity of his emotions. “I’m going to divide the Tashiro fortune between my aunts. They’ll have it all. Every cent.” He gave a shaky, furious laugh.
“Why?”
“Because nothing would make him more unhappy.”
Or you, Ryo thought. He didn’t say that, though. Instead he said gently, “Okay. So you don’t want Kenji to have the money.”
“It’s nothing to do with Kenji!”
Kai was glaring at him again, and Ryo said, “I’m lost. Or drunk. Or both. Can we sit down? I feel like this may take awhile.”
“I love Kenji. Or I would if they would let me see him. He doesn’t know me. I don’t know him.” Kai’s face worked. “My son is growing up without his father.” There was no question the pain that accompanied those words was real.
Ryo fastened on the piece he could make sense of. “So Kenji is your son?”
“Of course.”
“And you’re married or you’re not married?”
“Of course I’m not married.” Kai’s expression changed. “Oh. I thought you knew the whole story. No wonder you’re looking at me like I’m crazy.” He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. “No. Kenji happened when Laurel and I tried to get back together. It didn’t last very long. Getting back together, I mean. But…there was Kenji.”
“You didn’t remarry?”
“No. I won’t do that.”
“He’s your kid, dude.”
Kai resettled his glasses. “I know that. I’ve acknowledged my paternity. As much as they’ll let me.”
“Your grandfather and your—Laurel?”
Kai nodded.
“Okay. I think I get it now. We’ll be careful. It’s not like I go around advertising my private life.”
“Huh?” Kai looked confused, taken aback. “What are you saying?”
Ryo said, “What I’ve been saying for the last hour. I care for you. I want to keep seeing you. You can set the conditions.”
Kai’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Ryo looked past him to the clock in the stainless steel microwave over the blue-brown quartz counter. “I’m saying it’s late and we should probably try to get some sleep. I have to be at work early.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.”
Ryo grinned. “Well, we don’t have to sleep.”
“But…” Kai continued to stare at him with wary uncertainty. He said finally, “You know, you’re a very strange guy, Ryo.”
“Strange is better than slick, right? Anyway, have you looked in a mirror lately? It takes one to know one.” Ryo summoned his old smirk. Maybe attitude wasn’t half the game, but it still counted for a lot. “Look, we both know I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have some feeling for me.”
“I like sex,” Kai shot back.
“Yes, you do, you little horn dog. But that’s not why I’m here tonight, so can we not pretend anymore?”
Ryo spoke with all his old confidence, but it was a relief when Kai, still looking mostly bemused, turned and led the way back to the bedroom. Through the double doors leading onto the balcony, Ryo could see the black outline of s
waying palm trees. The wind had picked up. A ghostly breeze moved the white veils of the bed’s canopy.
Kai hit a switch and soft amber accent lights lit the room.
The lights changed everything, turned the room familiar and ordinary, turned it into a space where they might simply hold each other and talk, where they might indeed sleep together—and was there anything more trusting than allowing yourself to fall into a deep sleep beside a lover who was still a stranger?
But they would not stay strangers. Ryo was sure of that now.
Kai removed his glasses and began to unbutton his shirt.
“Okay if I take a shower?” Ryo asked.
“Sure.” Kai added politely, “There are clean towels in the tall cupboard.”
Ryo nodded then turned back to Kai as someone pounded on the front door. Kai’s brows drew together.
“Expecting company?” Ryo asked.
“No.”
Kai dropped his shirt on the foot of the bed and left the room. Ryo went to the doorway to watch. Kai reached the door, slid the bolt, and opened the door. Not wide enough that Ryo could see who stood on the other side, but he had an idea.
He could tell from the way Kai’s back straightened, his shoulders squared, that he had guessed right.
Torres.
“The fuck,” said Kai. “Didn’t we go through this last night?”
Ryo left his post at the bedroom door and stepped quietly down the hall, making sure he stayed out of view of the open door. Judging by his own jealousy of Torres, it was only too easy to picture what Torres might do if he realized Kai was sleeping with him, sleeping with any cop, but Ryo in particular.
He couldn’t make out the words of Torres’ answer, but he was plainly not happy. Ryo reached automatically for his shoulder holster, but he wasn’t wearing a weapon. He didn’t carry when he was out drinking and dancing in a club. His backup Beretta was in the locked glove compartment of his Taurus.
“No,” Kai said, “I’m not going through this every night, Mickey. Last night was it. Last night was good-bye.”
The door shoved inward, sliding Kai back a few inches. “You got someone in there, maricón?” Torres demanded. He sounded drunk. “You bring someone here behind my back?” His hand, marked with the butterfly tattoo, shot around the edge of the door, tangling in Kai’s hair, yanking it loose from its ponytail.