It frustrates me more than anything, and I do what I can to subdue my unjustified anger as I continue making Mia’s coffee. I put my right hand in the pocket of my jogging pants and pick up her mug with my much steadier left. I turn to walk over to her, but she’s already at the counter, sitting on one of the stools, leaning forward slightly on crossed arms.
“You okay?” she asks.
Seeing her there made me forget myself for a brief moment. I must’ve been so distracted while taking my meds, I didn’t hear her walking over.
I smile and gently slide the hot coffee toward her. “Yeah, I’m good. You want sugar or cream?”
She shakes her head. “As it comes is fine, thank you.”
“You drink coffee as it should be drunk… I like that.”
She laughs. “Typical guy.” She picks up the mug in both hands. Blows gently and takes a sip. “So, what’s with the pain meds? Everything okay?”
I glance at my right hand, despite trying not to. “It’s… ah… it’s an old injury. Still gives me a little grief from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”
She takes another sip of her drink. “So, tell me. Where did you live before moving to Tokyo?”
I move around the counter and take a seat beside her. “I moved around a lot with work. I was lucky enough to see a lot of the world.”
“Was? You’re a little young to be retired, aren’t you?”
She smiles and nudges my arm playfully with hers.
I shrug, fighting the rush of color in my cheeks. “I worked as a consultant. The money was great, but after 4/17, my… my industry changed. As did most things, I guess. I had enough put away that I didn’t need to worry about things for a while, so I took the opportunity to move away, enjoy being in one place for a change.”
The official line. The practiced lie. Effortless and believable.
I return her gesture of a playful nudge, arm to arm. “What about you? What brings you this far east?”
She goes to speak but stops herself, opting for a sip of coffee instead.
“I’m studying while I’m travelling. Killing two birds with one stone while I’m young enough to get away with it.”
“Nice. What are you studying?”
She looks at me. “Psychology and journalism. I’ve always wanted to know why people do the things they do, y’know? And I figure the world should know about what really goes on around here. Especially nowadays.”
I nod. “I can appreciate that. Lot of people doing a lot of weird shit. And even more people wanting to read about it. You come to Japan on your own?”
“Yeah. I knew a couple of people over here, but I don’t see them much.”
“What about your family? Must be hard being away from them?”
She shrugs. “I don’t have much, to be honest. I never knew my dad, and my mom passed away a few years ago.”
“Shit… I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugs again. “Thanks. She left me some money that I couldn’t access ’til I was eighteen. I used it to come over here.”
“Well, you sound like you’re doing okay. Takes confidence to live your own life. Good for you.”
She grins at me but says nothing.
“Listen, Mia… about last night…”
She puts her hand up. “You don’t have to say anything, let alone apologize. It was fine last night, and it’s still fine this morning, I promise. It’s, ah… it’s the age thing, isn’t it?”
I smile an apology. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Well, look… for what it’s worth…” She spins in her seat to face me, then stands and leans in close. Her lips brush my ear. “It’s not a problem for me. Y’know, if you ever change your mind.”
She sits back down, still facing me. Her foot rests against my leg.
What the hell is going on?
I must be insane. Mia’s gorgeous, and I don’t get the impression she’s looking for a future husband or anything. I have my reservations and reasons, but maybe I’m thinking too much about it. I mean, let’s be honest. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve shot myself in the foot by overthinking, would it?
I keep telling myself I’ve turned over a new leaf. That I’m different now. That I’ve learned from my past. I knew Josh better than he knew himself, and he would’ve said the same about me. That’s why I’m able to visualize him as part of my conscience. Deep down, I’m honest enough with myself that I know exactly what he would say to me in any given situation. Yes, his moral compass was sometimes as questionable as mine can be, but he’d slap me senseless if I could have this debate with him right now.
He would question if I was just using the fact my daughter would’ve been the same age as an excuse. A way of sabotaging a chance for myself to be happy because of some misplaced sense of guilt, or a feeling that I don’t want to be happy because, based on past experiences, when I am, things usually go wrong soon afterward.
I reach out and take hold of her hand. Look into her hazel eyes. They’re bright, full of life.
I take a breath, steel myself. “Mia, I hope you don’t think I’m being an asshole about… whatever this is?”
She smiles. “I don’t.”
“And I definitely didn’t intervene the other night for any reason other than it was the right thing to do.”
“Oh, God… of course. I know you didn’t, and I’m eternally grateful.”
“I can’t deny you’re attractive…”
Her cheeks fill with color.
“…and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to… y’know… spend time with you.”
She gets to her feet again. Moves in close again. Moves her hand so her fingers are interlaced with mine. “Then what are you waiting for, Adrian?”
I shake my head slowly. “Y’know what? Absolutely nothing.”
I move my head toward her. I hear her hold her breath. She closes her eyes, tilts her head. I move to—
My ringtone blasts out in the silence, jolting me from the moment.
We look at each other and smile. We shake our heads playfully, and she sits back down.
I get to my feet. “Sonofabitch. Sorry, I should get that.”
She picks up her mug and smiles. “It’s okay.”
I look around the room, trying to find the damn thing.
It’s on the arm of the sofa.
I stride over for it, but it stops ringing the moment I pick it up. I look at the screen. Missed call from Ruby.
I’d best call her back. Make sure she’s okay.
I unlock the screen, but as I do, I hear the elevator hum and rattle into life. I look over. The display above the doors is counting up.
Looks as if Ruby was just letting me know she was back. Knowing her, she probably wants a hand with her bags… some emergency shopping on the way home.
I turn to Mia, who’s spun around to face me, mug in hand. “That was Ruby. I’m guessing she’s on her way up now.”
Mia smiles again. Shrugs. She looks cute.
“No problem. Raincheck, yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah, definitely.”
My phone beeps. I frown. Look at the screen.
A message from Ruby?
I unlock the phone and open it up.
I stare at the screen, stunned to silence.
The message simply reads: 911.
My mind explodes, creating a mushroom cloud of questions and hypotheticals inside my head. I take a deep breath. The first step in a process engrained in my subconscious—a result of over two decades of training and experience. Like editing an audio file on a computer, I’m tuning out the background noise. Silencing the unnecessary words.
It takes me all of two seconds to filter out the panic and focus on what I know, and what I need to know.
I know Ruby’s in trouble. My spider sense is going haywire. See, 911 is our agreed code for get your ass over here, I’m in deep shit . It’s easy to type in a hurry and is about as unambiguous as you can get in a text message. It isn’t used lightl
y, which means she needs me. Right now.
There are, however, a couple of issues. First…
I look over at Mia. Her expression has changed. She’s frowning. Confused. Concerned. She can tell something’s not right. But she doesn’t know me. Not really. She doesn’t know who I am or what I’ve done, and I would very much like to keep it that way.
I turn around and stare blankly at the display above the double doors.
Twenty-eight. Nine more floors to go.
The second issue is, if Ruby’s in trouble, who the fuck is in my elevator?
10
07:39 JST
I have a gun stashed in the kitchen. Y’know… for emergencies. That’s the nearest one to me right now. My gaze is torn between the ever-climbing number above the elevator and the look of bewilderment on Mia’s face. It’s been changing gradually over the last couple of minutes from confusion to concern, presumably based on the look on mine.
Thirty-two.
Five more floors. Maybe twenty seconds, if I’m lucky.
I need to make a decision.
The elevator is obviously not an option. We could make it out the door and into the hall, but I have to assume even the most half-assed attempt to take me out in my own home would still have people covering the stairs. Sure, I could fight my way out, but the hallway and stairwell are narrow, with fewer opportunities for cover if needed. Plus, I have Mia’s safety to think about.
Mia.
This isn’t fair on her. In fact, this is exactly why I didn’t want her getting too close. My life, no matter how well it seems to be going, will invariably turn into a shit-show for anyone else in it. Is that cynical and negative of me? Probably. But you have to admit, I have a point. Bottom line: she doesn’t need to know who I really am, what I’m capable of, and what kind of life I lead.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t look as if there’s any avoiding that now. The sensible option would be to stay right where we are. It’s a huge, open space. There’s cover available behind the sofa or kitchen counter if needed. Mia can disappear upstairs. Whoever steps out of that elevator won’t make it past me.
Speaking of which… I need to prepare for who this could be. Ruby’s Yakuza boyfriend from last night? No, he’s a nobody. Even if shit had gone sideways for her, there’s no way that little prick would take her out.
Retribution for the Santo job yesterday?
Unlikely, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense right now.
Shit.
Shit, dammit, shit, shit, fuck…
Thirty-six. One more floor.
I turn to Mia as I move behind the kitchen counter. I gesture her toward me with my hand, holding it out for her to hold.
“Hey, come here a sec, would you?”
She does.
I try to stand casually, leaning on the counter, with both hands facing the living room, as she shuffles a little awkwardly beside me. I slowly move my right hand to my side, blindly reaching for the handle to the drawer where I keep one of my 1911s. The spare, just in case. I’m still fast. The drawer will be open, and the gun will be out, aimed, with my finger on the trigger in less than two seconds. Plenty of time to take out a bunch of assholes stupid enough to think coming for me in my home is a good idea.
Thirty-seven.
The elevator dings as it arrives on our floor. My right hand grips the handle. My left wraps gently around Mia’s wrist, ready to move.
“Adrian, are you okay?” she asks. “What’s going on?”
I shake my head slowly. “Nothing. Just do as I say, all right? I’m not—”
The doors slide open.
I begin opening the drawer.
One man steps out. No visible weapon. He looks around the apartment, a genuine look of awe on his face. His old, leathery face is obscured by a long, thin, gray beard.
I frown. “Ichiro?”
I relax my grip on the drawer and Mia. Walk around the counter to greet him.
“What are you doing here?”
His gaze is momentarily drawn to Mia. He shrugs. “Can a man not visit with his friend?”
His smile is broad and genuine.
I raise an eyebrow. “Um, sure he can…”
I move closer to him, distancing myself further from Mia. We’re only inches apart, standing close to the open elevator doors.
“Ichi, what are you doing here?” I whisper. “How do you know where I live? And how did you access the private elevator without my keycard?”
He chuckles quietly. “You insult me, Shinigami .” He looks around the place as he talks, to remain discreet. “I wasn’t aware you had company. And such attractive company, at that…”
“That’s… ah… that’s not what it looks like.”
He looks at me and beams. “No need to justify yourself to me, Adrian.” He playfully slaps my cheek a couple of times. “If ever someone needed sekkusu , it’s you, my friend.”
He walks toward the counter, with his arms wide to greet Mia.
I close my eyes and shake my head slightly to myself.
Sekkusu means sex.
Seriously, why does everyone think I’m in dire need of getting laid?
He embraces Mia, laughing. She still looks confused but a little more relaxed. She’s smiling and looking at me over his shoulder, silently asking me what the hell is happening.
I couldn’t tell her if I wanted to.
I walk over to join them. As nice as it is seeing Ichiro, I don’t have time for this. Not right now.
“Mia, this is my friend, Ichiro. Ichiro, this is Mia.”
He steps back and places his hands on her cheeks. “Mia! Mia, Mia, Mia… you have the appearance of… angel from Heaven. It is pleasure to meet you.”
Her cheeks flush a little.
I roll my eyes and place a hand on Ichi’s shoulder. “All right, Casanova , take it easy.”
He steps back, chuckling.
I look at Mia. “Would you mind giving us a minute?”
She nods, smiling, appearing more relaxed than before. “Of course. I’ll… ah… I’ll go freshen up.”
She quick-steps upstairs.
I lean back against the counter. Fold my arms across my chest. Stare at Ichiro as Ruby’s message replays over and over in my mind.
“Listen, now isn’t a good time, Ichi,” I say to him. “But you being here can’t be a coincidence. What’s going on, man?”
He looks around, as if worried he’ll be overheard.
“Your friend. She in trouble.”
I nod. “I know. I just found out. How do you know?”
“Word travels fast, Shinigami .”
I frown again. “How fast, exactly? I received a text message from her about ten minutes ago. How could you possibly have found out and got here in that space of time?”
He chuckles. Not with humor. With awkwardness. Almost with apologies. “Word travels fast for me . You… I’m afraid you are a little late to party. Your friend in trouble the moment she left last night’s race.”
“What? With that street racer? How do you know about that douchebag?”
Ichi frowns. “That douche … bag … works for Kazawa.”
“The guy Santo wanted me to kill for him?”
He nods. “Ruby in bad place, Shinigami . Real bad place.”
“Why? Where is she? And what—wait a minute… you said Ruby. How do you know her name?
He shakes his head with mild disbelief. “You are too slow! She comes to me for work, just like you.”
My eyes pop wide. “You’re her contact?”
“What?” he says, shrugging. “She asked for discretion, same way you did. I am man of my word.”
I don’t know if she knew we had the same contact or not, but that would explain her reluctance to tell me.
Not that it matters right now.
“Whatever. What do you know that I need to know, Ichi?”
“After race, she was taken to Golden Tiger. It is nightclub owned by Kazawa.”
“And she’s being held in there? I find that hard to believe. I don’t think there are enough men on this planet to make her do something she doesn’t want to.”
He shakes his head. His mouth forms an uncharacteristically grave line amidst his beard. “Not in the club… beneath it.”
A sudden explosion of dread goes off deep inside my gut. “And what’s beneath it?”
He looks away. “Another type of club. A very bad place. A place where they torture… they film… they sell. People pay good money to go there. To take part. To purchase.”
“Sonofabitch. Purchase what?”
Ichiro’s mouth tenses to form a grave line. “Organs, Shinigami .”
I stand straight. Take out the gun from the drawer without hesitating. I check the mag. Check the safety. Tuck it at my back, covering it with my shirt.
“Where is it?” I ask him.
He shakes his head again, more urgently this time. “No. No. This isn’t somewhere you just walk in off the street. Even at this time, it will be full of Yakuza—foot soldiers… street dealers. It is big operation for Kazawa. You won’t make it through door.”
I place a hand on his shoulder again and smile. Partly to offer comfort. Mostly because I feel sorry for him that he should have so little faith in me.
“Watch me.”
“Adrian. Seriously…”
“Ichi, if anyone has harmed so much as a single hair on Ruby’s head, I’ll reduce this entire city to rubble just to make sure that nightclub and everyone inside it are nothing but a memory.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then places his hand on top of mine, patting it gently. “You know what? I believe you… you scary, scary bastard.”
I nod a silent thank you and move to the bottom of the stairs. A moment later, Mia steps into view, dressed as she was the night before.
“Listen, I gotta go,” I call to her. “I don’t want you to think I’m—”
She waves me away, smiling as she descends toward me. “I figured you probably have something important to do. It’s fine. I should get going anyway.” As she steps off the final stair, she moves close, leans up, and kisses my cheek. “We should do this again.”
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