Chapter 12
Jiro
S itting at the café across from the bar where Valdez’s crew frequented, I tried to enjoy my coffee in peace. However, that tranquility was shattered as Oda slid into the chair across from me with a grin that was nothing short of mischievous .
“Jiro, my friend, in dear need of coffee, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows, jerking his head toward the cup I was holding. “I guess someone didn’t get much sleep last night.”
I shook my head and took a sip of the burned-out coffee that felt like heaven because I would have rather died than admit it, but I was significantly sleep-deprived, and I was not as young as the grinning idiot in front of me.
Oda leaned over the table. “So, how’s life in caveman land?”
I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for his teasing. “Very funny, Oda.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Seriously, dragging Hope out of the club like that? You’ve got that caveman thing down to an art.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Can we not talk about that?”
“Ah, come on,” Oda persisted, his grin widening. “It was quite the show. Had the whole place talking.”
I shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”
Oda laughed heartily, enjoying my discomfort a little too much. “So, how many of the pack of twelve condoms did you manage to use?”
My face heated up, and I spluttered, nearly choking on my coffee. “What? How the hell do you know about that?”
He leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let’s just say I wanted to make sure you were prepared for the night.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re the one who put those condoms in my pocket?”
He winked. “Guilty as charged.”
I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. “You planned this whole evening, didn’t you? You wanted me to snap.”
Oda shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, let’s just say I nudged fate a bit. Had a hunch you needed a push.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what about you? What was your game?”
He leaned back, his expression turning more serious. “Jiro, my friend, you’re a true yakuza. You’re so steeped in your own code and sense of duty that you can’t see happiness even when it smacks you in the face.”
I frowned, his words hitting closer to home than I cared to admit. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned in, his voice low and sincere. “You care about Hope, don’t you? Maybe more than you’re willing to admit. But you’ve built this wall around yourself, thinking you’re protecting her by staying away. I just thought it was time to remind you that sometimes, it’s okay to let go of the warrior facade and let happiness in.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. Oda had a way of seeing through my defenses, and it was both infuriating and oddly comforting. “You meddled in my personal life, Oda. You had no right.”
He chuckled, not the least bit apologetic. “Ah, but sometimes friends need to meddle, especially when they see a stubborn idiot like you getting in his own way. And with the way you’re getting your panties in a bunch, I guess you used about three of those condoms.”
I should have been the bigger person and just ignored his comment. After all, he was just a kid, and I had ten years on him. Yet, my male ego took over once more. “Five,” I muttered.
“Five?” He slammed his hand on the table, his eyebrows raised. “Shit, man, that’s impressive. Now you’re putting my own record to shame.”
I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. Oda was a pain in the ass, but he was also one of the few people who kept his easygoing nature despite our dark world. “Fine, you win. But next time you want to meddle, at least warn me.”
He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What fun would that be?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
He grinned. “That’s why you love me, Saito.”
I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my smirk. “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming. I tolerate you at best.” I sighed, looking back at the bar across the street and tapping my fingers on the table.
“What’s up?” he asked more seriously now.
“When do you have to get back?”
He shrugged. “You have me as long as you need me. I suspect Alessandro was quite relieved to get rid of me for a while.”
I threw him a side look and snorted. “You don’t say.”
“What? I’m adorable!” he gasped in mock offense, resting his hand on his chest.
“And how much shit are you allowed to stir?”
Oda leaned back, his face more serious now. “I’m here to follow your lead, Jiro. Alessandro didn’t forbid me anything.”
I nodded, appreciating Oda’s loyalty. “Good. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Oda tilted his head slightly, sensing something more. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
I sighed, leaning forward. “After Hope’s questioning yesterday at the club, her brother called her out of the blue. Not a caring sibling chat, but more like an order to stop poking around.”
Oda raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a charmer.”
I chuckled dryly. “You have no idea.”
Oda nodded in understanding, his eyes locked onto mine. “So, what’s the plan now?”
I sighed, my fingers drumming on the table. “I think Valdez pushed him to call. My problem now… it’s clear Hope is on their radar, and I’m concerned that she might become collateral against her brother for… whatever he’s involved with.”
Oda’s face darkened at the mention of collateral, his jaw clenching. “That’s cold.”
“Valdez isn’t exactly known for his warmth,” I replied grimly.
Oda leaned in, his voice lowered. “So, what’s your move?”
I met his gaze with determination. “I’m going to hit one of Valdez’s strongholds. The bar across the street—it’s practically a base for his crew. I’m going in with the yakuza clan tattoo on display. Maybe rough up a couple of his guys, just enough to get back to Valdez and make him open a direct line to me.”
Oda’s lips curled into a sly grin. “That’s a dangerous game, Jiro. Even for you. I never knew you were a kamikaze. ”
I smirked back at him. “Well, I’ve never been one to shy away from danger.” And for Hope Myers? I’ll brave the fires of hell itself.
The air inside the bar was thick with a mixture of smoke, sweat, and an undercurrent of tension. The dim, flickering fluorescent lights did little to mask the dinginess of the place, and the sticky floor seemed to cling to my shoes with each step. It was the kind of establishment that thrived on cheap drinks, bad decisions, and the type of clientele that preferred shadows over light.
My gaze swept over the crowd, taking in the collection of shady figures huddled in the corners, nursing their drinks. Half-naked women were strategically placed around the bar, a clear sign that this place catered to the basest desires of its patrons. I knew that the decor wasn’t the reason the gang frequented this joint. It was a haven for criminal activity—a place where secrets were traded, alliances formed, and basic desires were fulfilled by ten-dollar blow jobs.
I grimaced and glanced at Oda, who was wearing the same disgusted look as I was.
The room fell into an eerie silence as we both stepped into the middle of the room, and the hostile glares of the men seated around the bar bore into me. I kept my steps steady, my eyes locked forward, giving no indication that their attention bothered me. I had walked into much more dangerous situations than this.
I spotted Pedro at the bar, nursing a drink and leering at one of the women in a way that made my stomach turn. He noticed me, his eyes narrowing for a second before his lips curled into a smug grin. I could see the arrogance in his posture. The belief that he had the upper hand on his supposed territory.
“Pendejo,” I greeted him, my voice layered with a cool confidence that I hoped would rattle him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He raised an eyebrow, not expecting to find me in his so-called domain. “Yakuza,” he acknowledged, his tone laced with forced nonchalance.
I turned my head slightly, my eyes locking onto Oda’s for a brief moment. “Watch my back,” I muttered under my breath before sauntering over to the bar and claiming the empty stool beside Pedro.
He couldn’t resist taking a jab at me. “That’s a bold move, showing your face and flaunting your tattoos here. This isn’t yakuza territory.” His words were tinged with a mocking smirk. “Asian quarter is to the east,” he added, jerking his head in that direction to emphasize his point.
I couldn’t help but shake my head inwardly. The guy was so convinced of his own intelligence that he didn’t realize how transparent he was. He thought this was a display of power. A territorial showdown when he was at the bottom of the food chain in any Mafia.
I leaned in a bit, my expression carefully neutral. “You really think you can lay claim to any territory, Pedro? This place? This dump? I’m not here to fight over a cesspool.” I motioned to the surroundings with a dismissive wave of my hand.
Pedro’s grin faltered for a moment, his bravado slipping. I had touched a nerve, and he was trying to regain his footing. “I have connections,” he sneered.
I leaned back, feigning casual indifference. “Connections? Valdez?” I laughed. “I’m not even sure he knows your name.”
His irritation was palpable now, the mask of arrogance slipping further. He leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. “He won’t appreciate you encroaching on his turf and bothering his man.”
I chuckled softly, a hint of derision in the sound. “You really believe he cares about what happens to you?” I shook my head, letting out a mock sigh. “You’re delusional, Pedro.”
He clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re just a washed-up yakuza who’s lost his edge, with far too much innocent blood on his hands to play the high and mighty.” His words were like barbs, meant to provoke, but I was determined not to let him see any reaction.
I met his gaze with an unflinching stare, refusing to show that his words had any impact on me. But his last sentence struck a nerve, a reminder of the pain and guilt that still haunted me. It was true; my past was stained with actions I could never undo.
“Tell me,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom, “what does it feel like to fuck the sister of the girl you killed?”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, a rush of anger and pain surging through me. But I wouldn’t let him see that he had gotten to me. I maintained my composure, my expression unwavering.
“You seem to have a lot of information for someone who’s just a small-time thug,” I retorted, my tone dripping with icy disdain. If he wanted to play mind games, I was more than willing to engage.
I could see a flicker of irritation cross his face, a crack in his arrogant facade. Good, he was taking the bait. As he fumed, I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket, unfolded it, and placed it on the sticky bar between us. My phone number stared back at him, a tangible challenge.
“Here’s my number,” I stated mockingly, pushing the paper slightly closer to him. “Give it to a grown-up with actual power so I can tell them what I need to. Maybe then, someone who can actually make decisions will get in touch.”
The tense silence hung in the air, his eyes locked onto the paper, a mixture of anger and uncertainty dancing in his gaze. I didn’t wait for his response; instead, I stood up smoothly, leaving him with my parting shot, and turned to walk away.
Once I was back on the other side of the road, Oda’s expectant gaze met mine, waiting for an explanation. “Jiro, what was that all about? Are you sure this was a wise move?”
I couldn’t help but grin as I looked at the door of the bar. “Oda, sometimes a bruised ego is the best motivator. Pedro won’t be able to resist. Mocking him and his gang, daring him to have Valdez ‘call the actual adult,’ that’s the best way to goad him into action.”
“What now?” Oda asked as we walked away from the bar and toward the waterfront where my bike was parked.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders. “Now I need to call Hoka,” I replied, my jaw tensing. It was frustrating. Pedro’s taunts had struck a nerve. He was right in one sense; I wasn’t the yakuza I once was, the untouchable figure I used to be. I had lost the legitimacy my position had given me.
I could feel the simmering frustration within me, filled with anger and regret. I hated how much I needed Hoka’s protection now, how circumstances had changed my role from the fierce protector to the one needing protection. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Oda appeared uneasy, his discomfort palpable. “We may need to wait a few days. Hoka is currently traveling to Japan with Sandro.”
My steps faltered, and I halted in the middle of the sidewalk. “Why would Alessandro be going to Japan?” I inquired, my voice sounding confused and suspicious.
Oda shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. Hoka hadn’t mentioned anything about this when we spoke less than three days ago. This lack of trust nestled within me grew stronger, more insistent.
You’re no longer part of the clan, Jiro. Yakuza business is none of your concern , the insidious voice whispered in my mind, urging me to let it go.
I shook my head—it didn’t matter what Hoka and Alessandro were doing in Japan—all that mattered was that I ensured Hope’s safety even once I was gone.