HAN: Her Ruthless Mistake: 50 Loving States, Delaware (Ruthless Triad Book 4)

by Theodora Taylor

  Too bad Albie had to kill my great mood after he got off the phone with my sister. He kept asking questions like he was the little kid version of Colombo.

  “Just one more thing,” he said as he handed me back my phone. “Mom still wants to know what happened with Faizan.”

  Wow, really, Mika? Sending in the kid to do your dirty work?

  At the same time, a message came in from Chen on the phone in my hand.

  CHEN: Everything good? Thought we were meeting at 830?

  “None of Mika’s business, and especially not any of yours. Also, how many times do I have to remind you to stay out of grown folks' business?” I asked Albie while typing a message of explanation back to Chen.

  Albie folded his skinny arms over his skinny chest. “Well, Mom almost got a degree in Childhood Psychology before she dropped out, and she says that kids are allowed to ask questions.”

  “I’m super okay with you not asking me any questions about my personal life,” I answered. “I’m not your Mom.”

  “I know you’re not my mom.” A gloomy shadow fell over Albie’s face. “If you were my mom, I’d be a way better surfer by now because I wouldn’t have to live in Connecticut.”

  “Oh, Albie,” I started to say, feeling bad for the kid. Mika had purposefully moved as far away from her in-laws as she could get. But it would be too hard even for Mika to make Albie understand why without scaring or scarring him. Possibly both.

  However, before I could go into full comfort mode, Albie asked, “So do you have another boyfriend? Is that why you won’t give my boy Faizan the time of day now?”

  “Oh my God, Albie…” I suddenly understood why Homer Simpson was always trying to strangle his 10-year-old kid as I pressed send on the message to Chen, assuring him I’d be out as soon as I escorted my nephew back to the bonfire.

  “Grandma says you shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Albie said, his expression pious. But then he broke off his saintly reminder to offer, “I won’t tell her if you tell me who you’re dating instead of Faizan.”

  “No one! Okay, I’m not dating anyone!” I exploded. “I’m so single—there, are you happy?”

  “I don’t know about him, but I’m certainly glad to hear it,” another voice answered.

  We both looked up, shocked to see the person now standing at the office door.

  Albie recovered from his surprise before I did.

  “Brad!” he yelled. Then he ran up to greet the ex I hadn’t seen in three years.

  HAN

  “Where’s Jasmine?”

  Chen jumped and nearly dropped the phone he was texting on when Han suddenly appeared at his window.

  “Boss! You’re here!” he said, lowering the phone.

  “Where is Jasmine?” he asked again.

  “She’s inside the camp,” Chen answered. “I was just texting to see what was taking her so long to come out.”

  Fear squeezed Han’s heart along with the memory of his brother’s unexpected appearance in Lam Yibo’s place. Kuang Jr. had stood silently by as Han facilitated the deal with the brother he hadn’t seen since they were boys.

  But despite his presence, Han soon found out that Delun wouldn’t force the issue or recutting the 24K in on the deal. When the exchange happened, his brother, only by blood, handed the cases of money over to Han’s men.

  “You’ve done very well for yourself, sai lou,” Delun congratulated Han in Cantonese, which Kukui couldn’t understand. “The Silent Triad has gained quite a name for itself, and my associate Lam Yibo convinced our dragon to refuse to deal with anyone but you. After K Diamond told me how you had so cleverly cut him out of the deal I arranged for him, I had to come see for myself how such a thing could happen. He was right about you. You have grown into quite the fox. Like your mother.”

  At his words, a memory whispered across Han’s mind.

  “It is good that you’re a fox beauty like your mother,” their father once told Han. “It often brings her trouble. But you don’t have the good fortune of your older brother, so you’ll need her clever and her good looks to get by in life.”

  Han had been called overly good-looking all his life, and as he regarded his brother, he realized he owed that attractiveness entirely to his mother. His brother looked exactly like their father—as Han would have himself if there had been no beauty to soften his too sharp features.

  And with his compliment, Delun was letting his sai lou—which could be translated as both “little brother” and “penis” in Cantonese, know that his older brother had been watching him from afar…and that he’d accumulated enough power within his own triad to step in for another snakehead at the last minute.

  And bringing K Diamond along had been an insulting flex—one Han couldn’t properly address without upsetting the Golden Circle Dragon and possibly losing all the goodwill and confidence he’d built up with Kukui.

  An old, helpless rage churned inside of Han. Suddenly, he was a little boy again, being compared by his father to a son with whom he couldn’t compete.

  Delun had better grades, better comportment—more respect from the community because his mother wasn’t a prostitute. Past comparisons played havoc inside Han’s mind. Then and now.

  But Han didn’t let that show on his face.

  Taking a note from their father’s page, he bowed and said, “Let your dragon know that The Silent Triad is happy to do business with him despite his representative’s late arrival.”

  That hit. Delun flinched at the reminder that while he was a mere snakehead, the lowly illegitimate brother who’d been raised to expect nothing in life was a founding Dragon of his own triad, on par with his boss.

  “I will do that,” Delun offered, nonetheless, with a polite smile. It came nowhere near his eyes. “K Diamond tells me you have a girlfriend now. A surfing instructor who works at a summer camp. How…interesting.”

  In the background, Kuang Jr. snickered as if Delun had told the funniest joke in the world. Then he led the way back to the needlessly flashy car they’d brought along to a top-secret deal.

  Again, Han kept his face neutral, but a sickening fear rolled his stomach. Delun knew about Jasmine? Down to where she worked?

  It wasn’t an explicit threat, but Han was barely able to wait until their car pulled off before instructing his guys to handle the rest of the deal.

  Then he jumped into the Kia he’d driven to the dock.

  Unfortunately, the Honolulu Harbor was about an hour away from the north shore, where the camp was located in holiday traffic.

  Still, he raced into the parking lot to find….

  Chen on his phone.

  “I’m sure she’ll text back any minute now,” Chen assured him. “And the camp’s right there. If anything had happened, I would have known.”

  Chen was probably right. She’s fine. She’s probably fine, he’d told himself.

  But still, he had to ascertain that with his own eyes. So he stalked to the beach camp, following the light from the bonfire. He didn’t care that the sand was getting inside the docksiders he’d switch to after discovering that the island turned his East Coast wingtips into uncomfortable heat boxes.

  He approached the first grown-ups he saw, a woman with long blonde hair flirting with an equally blond man—probably counselors. They both wore the same Pacific Oahu Surf Camp rash guards as Jasmine.

  And their conversation stopped mid-sentence when they looked up to see him standing there.

  “Where’s Jasmine?” he demanded.

  “Um…who are you?” the male counselor asked, eyeing Han’s tats.

  Han was dangerously close to violence, but he did his best to keep that edge out of his tone as he told the most efficient lie to get him the information he wanted. “I’m her boyfriend. We live together.”

  “Oh…” the blond visibly deflated. “In that case, I saw her walking toward the office with her nephew. She said something about them calling his mom….”

  “Where’s
the office?”

  “Right over there.” She pointed to a prefab trailer covered in wood paneling at the edge of the parking lot. He’d been so focused on getting to Jasmine, he’d passed by it on his way to the bonfire.

  Han’s phone buzzed, and he found a message from Chen.

  CHEN: She just texted that she’s in the office. Helping her nephew make a call.

  “So, you’re Jazz’s boyfriend,” the blonde said, appearing to have forgotten about the guy she was flirting with. “Do you have a brother or a friend who looks exactly like you?”

  Han didn’t stick around to answer that question.

  Though relief muted the alarm bells from before, the need to lay eyes on his surfer girl continued to rage inside of him even though she was totally fine, as Jasmine herself might say. He forcibly calmed his mind on that thought before opening the door.

  Then froze.

  Jasmine was fine. That was true. She was also in the arms of another man. He held her close, his whole body wrapped around hers, like a soldier back from the war.

  And though his eyes were closed, Han recognized him in an instant.

  It was Brad Kaminski…the pro-surfer, who all the articles he’d read about her had made sure to mention was her boyfriend.

  “Aw man, I’m sorry, Jazzy. I was stupid,” he was saying. “I can’t believe I let a good thing like you get away.”

  In an instant, Han’s forced calm gave way to icy anger.

  20

  JAZZ

  It was one of the best Fourth of Julys of my life…until suddenly it wasn’t.

  First, Brad had shown up out of the blue. Like a ghost from my past—one I had absolutely zero desire to see.

  He’d greeted Albie with a “Hey, little man,” which made me 99% certain that Brad didn’t remember his name, even though I’d talked about Albie constantly, and he was one of Albie’s biggest surfing heroes.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, too stunned to keep the shock out of my voice.

  “I ended up getting the chance to come home early from the Atlantic Crush Challenge, and Dad asked me to put in a special appearance at the 4th of July bonfire. You know, give the campers a special treat.”

  Brad lifted a shoulder, the very picture of humble brag, even though “getting the chance to come home early” was probably code for him not making it past the first round of competition.

  “Well, the kids are out on the beach,” I let him know.

  “Yeah,” Brad said. “I can’t believe we’re both here. Remember that Fourth of July after the ABANCA Galicia Pro when we went to that embassy party in Madrid, and we snuck into that one dude’s office and….”

  “Had a great time,” I finished before he could reveal to my nephew that we’d had some not-great drunk sex on top of some poor diplomat’s desk.

  “What made it a great time?” Albie asked. Of course. He was a freaking bloodhound when it came to sniffing out adult-only conversational topics.

  Brad snickered.

  “I’ll tell you the story when you’re older, little man,” he told Albie before turning his blinding white smile right back on me. “But check you out, Jazz. You look great. A lot of the girls let their bodies go after they’re done with their careers—you know, babies and shit. But I can see you’re keeping it tight.”

  I blinked, so totally appalled, that I didn’t move to block him when he went in for a hug.

  “Man, it’s good to see you,” he said, squeezing me like I was a long-lost friend.

  He pulled back, but he didn’t let me go. “Why did we break up? Can you tell me that? I mean, I just dumped my last girlfriend. She was a nightmare. My dad hated her, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I let you go.”

  “You didn’t let me go,” I reminded him. “You made me choose between you and my sick father.”

  Albie had gone uncharacteristically quiet at this point, his wide eyes ping-ponging back and forth between us. All he needed was a tub of popcorn, and he’d be all set.

  “Is that how it went down?” Brad asked with almost laughable sincerity like he truly didn’t remember. Then he pulled me into an even tighter unwanted hug than before. “Aw man, I’m sorry, Jazzy. I was stupid. I can’t believe I let a good thing like you get away.”

  “I’m not a thing,” I pointed out.

  “I know, babe,” he said. “You’re precious. Utterly irreplaceable.”

  “Uh, Aunt Jazz,” Albie said at the same time. “There’s somebody I don’t know standing in the door.”

  I looked up, and my belly tightened….

  I would have classified my ex showing up out of the blue and hugging me like I was his long-lost teddy bear as a nightmare. But apparently, this particular nightmare had decided to double down.

  Han was the somebody Albie didn’t know.

  He stood, mesmerizing with his Fae King beauty and his tailored summer suit, but I could practically see the cold rage rolling off him at the sight of Brad and me.

  I pulled away from my ex on instinct, and Han took a step forward, fisting his hands at his sides…

  Only to stop short when Albie walked directly in front of him to demand, “Hello? Who are you?”

  Han blinked down at my nephew, and I braced, ready to spring in front of Albie to protect him.

  But then, Han visibly calmed, the rage clearing from his expression.

  “Hello, you must be Albie,” he said. He held out a solemn hand. “I’m Han, a friend of your aunt’s.”

  Albie looked my lethal-looking supposed “friend” up and down, then…gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, Albie. That’s me. Are you the reason Faizan had to back off from Aunt Jazz? He liked her, you know. But if she likes you more, I guess it’s okay.”

  “Ah…” Han said, clearly having no idea how to answer that.

  But, no worries, Albie, who was used to adults not answering him, pushed right on. “Do you surf? Because Brad’s a pro-surfer, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get Aunt Jazz back. So if you like her, you better learn how to surf, or he’ll take her away. My friend Wes—that’s one of the kids my mom babysits when we’re not here. She’s a live-in nanny. And his dad was his stepmom’s ex-boyfriend. She had a replacement boyfriend when they met again, but Mr. Calson—that’s the ex-boyfriend—made the replacement boyfriend go away. And now they’re married, and they just had another kid. She poops a lot. I mean a lot. I mean, she’ll walk into a room, take off her diaper, and lay a deuce on the floor. It’s so gross—”

  “Albie!” I yell to finally get him to stop. “Get back to the bonfire. Now!”

  “Okay, see you tomorrow,” Albie answered with a cheerful wave. But as he left, he advised Han behind his hand, “I’m just saying don’t be the replacement boyfriend. Watch out for Brad.”

  “I swear to God, Albie….” I said, setting my tone to threatening.

  “I’m telling Grandma on you, Aunt Jazz!” Albie threatened right back.

  Then he waved to everyone else, “Bye, bye!” before departing the office like a special sitcom guest who didn’t know how to close the door behind him.

  I’d finally got rid of the unnecessary information fount disguised as a little boy. However, any relief I might have felt over his departure was quickly replaced by the fact that he’d left me in the office with Han and Brad. Alone.

  Cue the extremely awkward silence, as all the bemusement faded off his face, and he switched his cold gaze back to Brad and me.

  I owed him nothing. He was the one who was basically making me live at his place as part of my debt. I didn’t really belong to him—not like that. But for some reason, I stepped forward to tell him that it wasn’t what he thought. That Brad hugged me. Not the other way around.

  However, he pushed past me before I could say anything and stepped to Brad.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked the slightly shorter man.

  Brad’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he visibly gulped. “No.”

  “But you know what
I am, right?” Han asked. His tone was calm but somehow still laced with danger.

  This time Brad didn’t answer. Instead, he just stared at the tattoos visible through the open collar of Han’s shirt. And started trembling.

  Which put me in the weird position of having to step in front of Brad the way I was prepared to step in front of Albie earlier.

  “Stop. You’re scaring him,” I said, glaring up at Han.

  The Fae King flicked his cold gaze down to me, then right back up to Brad. “I would never allow myself to hide behind a woman.”

  “I’m not hiding,” Brad insisted from behind me. “I just don’t understand what’s going on—Jazzy, are you really with this guy?”

  “Don’t talk to her,” Han said, his voice low and lethal. “You gave up the right to do that when instead of admiring her dedication to her family, you chose to dump her.”

  I jolted. How did he know about the reason for our break-up? And was he actually angry at Brad on my behalf?

  “That’s not how I remember it….” Brad answered Han, his voice taking on the defensive tone of a kid who stole the cookie but didn’t want to be called out for it.

  Han tilted his head. “Of course, it is not how you remember it. Favorite sons like you never remember it the way it really was. You throw your things away, then whine and try to get it back when you realize it was valuable.”

  “Okay, again, I’m not an object,” I remind the both of them.

  But Han barely seemed to hear me. His hard gaze stayed on Brad. “Yes, you know what I am. And now you must make a choice.”

  “Leave now my way, or….” Han stepped to the side and swept a hand toward the door. “Leave now your way.”

  “Are you kidding with this macho male bullshit?” I asked Han. Then I glanced over my shoulder to tell Brad. “You don’t have to—oof!”

  That was the sound I made when Brad pushed past me and ran—just cut out the still-open door like he had a fire at his back.

  Or a ruthless Chinese Dragon.