The Queen’s Denial

Chapter 16 Chi

Chapter 16

Chi

I’ve never paced. I’ve never been anxious enough to pace. But right now, I’m pacing a hole in the persian carpet of the huge grand ballroom, waiting for any information as to where the fuck Andy, Cas, or Mara are. It’s driving me completely insane, consuming my every thought.

I worry that any of them, even fucking Cas, might not be okay. I have plenty of books that I’ve brought here to read, and none of them are holding my attention. The only thing that takes the edge off at all is this fucking pacing. The only time I can remember being this anxious are the few days after my father got shot and Andy, Cas, Mara and I were all staying together to make sure we were safe. At least then, Andy was there to preoccupy me with his thirsty gestures, like changing shirts in front of me for no apparent reason or using his big man muscles to carry me back to my room after I fell asleep in Mara’s bed. But there were also the strangely sincere efforts to get my mind off of it, like playing chess and making jokes. Even asking me about my favorite books because he knew I loved to read.

It’s been hours and hours since Andy and Cas left. Night has fallen, and I’m sure they’ve started attacking by now. It drives me even crazier than I expected not to be able to be with them. I know that even the idea of such a thing is preposterous — that even a Yakuza queen wouldn’t be allowed on a mafia battlefield — certainly not a Yakuza princess. But I still wish I could be there.

I sigh and sit on one of the many chairs at a huge, ten-person banquet table that probably hasn’t been used in years. This is a historic mansion, and I’m technically not even supposed to be sitting here right now. This big, beautiful room, once so loved and frequented by the highest of society, is now here only for private tours and guests who are willing to shell out tens of thousands of dollars to stay for a few nights.

It seems such a waste, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe this poor fucking room is tired of being tread all over, hyped up into something far grander than its simple beauty needs to be, decorated and celebrated for no reason besides the fact that it belonged to important people.

I grit my teeth and make a decision. I’m not going to just be a pretty little ornament like everyone thinks I should be. I need to call Oxy again and fucking do something.

*****

“Daiki. Watashi wa anata ni hanasu hitsuyō ga arimasu,” I say assertively in Japanese. I need to talk to you.

Daiki’s neck snaps up. I rarely use his and my father’s first language unprompted, and he’s obviously curious about why I’m doing so now in this bold tone. Technically, Daiki is lower in rank than I am, but he is also an older man and my father’s closest friend, so there is a certain level of respect and honor I have to give him. My tone could be considered a defiance of both of these, but I know that Daiki won’t take it the wrong way. And honestly, I don’t have time to worry about whether he will or not.

“Chichi-chan? What is wrong?” he answers back in Japanese.

I take a deep breath, summoning all of my courage. “I have some information that could help with the war. We have plenty of men. And while we’ve sent the required amount along with Cas and Andy already, there are more we could be utilizing in other ways.”

I swallow to give myself a moment and then continue. “I’ve spoken with Cas’s tech guru —you know, Oxy. She gave me the coordinates of the weakest areas that will need attention. They told me that diversions will be best — even more necessary than manpower on the battlefield. So, if we really want to help, we need to station men at the weak coordinates to hold the attention of the cops that are going to arrive there.”

“What coordinates? What are you talking about?” Daiki seems a little surprised, but more confused as to why I think I have any information he doesn’t already possess.

“I just know that Cas’s expert wants us to focus on these.” I hand him my phone and show him the pins on my GPS.

Daiki closes his eyes, trying to process everything I’m saying. “Chichi, why would random coordinates around the city attract the attention of police?”

I shrug my shoulders. “That’s not something I need to know, I guess. But why would Oxy lie? She works with Papa and has been helping Cas for years.”

Daiki still looks a little confused and skeptical. He looks like he’s going to say no, and although technically I could command the men without his blessing, I would never do so. I have too much respect for him.

“Daiki-san, please. Would you just trust that the soon-to-be Yakuza queen won’t steer our soldiers directly into harm’s way for no reason?”

Daiki studies my face, and I watch as all traces of skepticism vanish and, in their place, blooms a new understanding and respect. “Yes, Princess Chichi,” he says with the hint of a crooked smile. “Yes, I can trust that.”

*****

Daiki puts my plan into motion, although that’s about all I get from him after our discussion. I still know so little about what might be going on out there, and Daiki is as tight-lipped as ever. He won’t stop me from watching the news though, and reporters have been investigating random explosions around the city that just so happen to be at the GPS points that Oxy gave me. I think I’m happy, especially when there is no loss of innocent life. I see that my men are leading many of the cops on high speed chases and other hot pursuits far out of Boston.

On the other hand, as reports begin flooding in about explosions heard near where Mara, Cas and Andy are supposedly fighting right now, I truly start to worry about them. The one place we were not supposed to go anywhere near is where the heart of the action is, and the cops seem to be staying away from there as well. All the reporters can do is tell us that no one can get in because it’s a private residence. This tears me up more than any other piece of news. I was told nothing from Oxy about explosions in this location, and it seems so much more dangerous for all of my friends to be there than I thought it would be before.

I try calling Mara and Andy exactly one time, knowing they probably have more important things to do than answer the phone. I don’t want to sidetrack them from what they’re doing, so I leave it at that for now. The only solace I have is that every time Diaki looks down at his phone, I see the tiny uptick of the right side of his mouth that he tries to tamp down, and I know he’s pleased.

“So. Do I have the job, Daiki? Do I get to be Yakuza queen?”

He gives me a deadpan look. “You do not try out for the role; it is your birthright. However… you have proven yourself worthy of it today, Sakura.”

I can’t help allowing his words to burrow under my skin and take up permanent residency there. Any small, rare word of praise from Daiki or my father makes me burst with pride, but Daiki’s words today are a different breed. It almost feels like too much. Words like that would be seen by many in my circles to be overindulgent and unnecessary. But it gives me so much strength and assuredness that I spring up and puff my chest out, holding my head high.

“Thank you, Daiki. Please give me a full total of the dead when you get the information, and if you have eyes on Andy, Cas, or Mara, a full update on their welfare would be appreciated as well.”

Daiki’s crooked smile widens. “You are pushing it, my Princess,” he says in Japanese, cocking his eyebrow, and I know he’ll never give me what I ask. If there was bad news, he wouldn’t even give it to me if I were the queen. And I realize that I love him for that. I love him for trying to protect me, even when I don’t want him to. I’ll just have to find out what I want another way.

*****

I’m pacing again when I get the call. It’s Andy’s number, and when I see it, I almost drop my phone in an extremely inelegant way.

“Andy?” I yell into the phone as soon as I pick it up. I get nothing but a groan in response.

I lower my voice. “Andy, is that you? Are you okay?”

“Going to… kill me, woman.” There’s a long pause, and then he says. “Sorry… don’t know… why I called.”

“To tell me you’re alive?”

Instead of answering, he coughs, and the sound sends a chill down my spine. That’s not a normal cough. It’s a rattle. I’ve never even seen him in pain, but right now, he sounds like death already. “You’re hurt. Very, very hurt.”

“It kinda fucking hurts. It’s… definitely uncomfortable.”

“What happened to you, Andy? Tell me, now! I’ll call in reinforcements. I’ll get the ambulance there; I’ll fucking make them go, just tell me what I have to do—”

“Just wanted to… hear your voice again,” he says, and coughs a gurgling cough. I hear a commotion and realize he must be outside. It sounds like he’s rushing, but with the way he’s talking right now, I can’t imagine that he’s up and walking around.

Then his words finally process. It sounds like he thinks this might be the last time he hears my voice. And the only reason that would be the case…

There are so few things that I’ve ever truly believed could touch me. I am scared of so few things in this life, but this is Andy, and I’m definitely scared at this moment. I swallow down my all-encompassing, nausea-inducing fear at the very thought of this being the last time I talk to him, but voice my worry anyway. “Oh my God, Andy. Do not fucking die. You’d better not. I’m serious, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Call the elves to resurrect me?” It’s a near-inaudible rasp, but my mouth drops at the joke. It’s not even a great joke. How is he making fucking jokes right now?

Despite myself, a nervous bubble of laughter erupts from my chest. I feel tears sting my eyes. “I’m serious, Andy. You can’t.” I never beg. I despise it. But I do it now, and I do it with pride. “Please try. Try not to.”

Andy gives a couple of ragged, pained breaths before he seems able to answer. “Yeah… I’ll… I’ll try…”

The line goes dead.

*****

I’ve already attempted to call Mara, but it goes straight to voicemail every time. Eventually I break down and begin calling Mara, Cas and Andy compulsively, hoping someone turns their goddamned device on and answers it.

A restless night turns to morning. The war seems to be over. From everything on the news, including a report of flames at the site of the real fighting, we seem to have won. My father has gained a hearing, and we will be clear to go back to the mansion any time now. But I know I won’t be going. I can’t.

The fact is, I haven’t heard from Andy in over twelve hours. The possibilities of what could have happened and all the ways he might have died by now have flown through my head so many times it’s driving me crazy. I haven’t eaten or slept, but I’m as wide awake as if I drank an entire pot of coffee.

If I go back to that mansion, everything will go back to normal, except that Andy won’t be there. Everything will stay status quo, even as my anxiety over Andy’s wellbeing will quietly eat away at me, minute by minute, as I walk through room after room of where we… what? Became friends? Became… lovers?

I can’t go back there without knowing. And there’s only one way for me to know.

I dial the number I need, and it’s picked up after the third ring.

“Listen, this is the last fucking time, Princess Chee-chee. We’ve won, okay? I’m not going to keep picking up the phone. I told you what you wanted to know last time, but even I can’t be swayed by your fucking blood money again—”

“Oxy! It’s not about the war. I just want to know where Andy is.”

There’s a pause, and then a slow question. “Why do you think I would know where he is?”

I huff out a sigh. I don’t have time for this shit. “Because you know everything. Please just give me his coordinates.”

Oxy pauses for even longer this time. I’m about to speak again when she finally fills the silence. “Listen, Chi. I believe you really do want to know about how he’s doing. I guess you don’t have some strange ulterior motive. But you don’t want to go where he went, and I can’t help you get there.”

My brows furrow in worry. “You make it sound like he went to hell or something, jeez.”

Oxy gives a rare, deep, raspy chuckle. “I have no idea what it’s like inside, but from what I’ve heard, it sounds like hell would be an island vacation in comparison. Seriously, I could be killed just for knowing where it is. Trust me, babe, you do not want to try and go there. If you don’t get killed by one bad dude, you’ll get killed by another.”

I’m so confused, and I’m sick of hearing Oxy talk in riddles. “What ‘bad dude?’ Why would Andy go with them if they were that bad? Is he a prisoner? Why wouldn’t they just kill him?”

“Chi! Jesus Christ, calm down!” Oxy cuts in before I can spiral further. “He’s one of them. He’s one of the bad dudes.”

This confuses me even further. “Okay, well he knows a lot of bad dudes. I’m not sure if you knew this, Oxy,” I drop my voice to an exaggerated whisper. ”But he’s the head of an Italian crime organization, and I’m going to be queen of the Yakuza one day.”

“These guys are not mafia, girl. From everything I can find, which is honestly not much, it’s a secret military hospital on top of an even more secret CIA black site. I don’t even investigate them anymore. I saw a video of a nearly fully-skinned corpse rolled out of there on a stretcher by men who were laughing. Laughing. Even I’m not that fucked up.”

I laugh while Oxy stays quiet and lets me have a moment. She says nothing for a long time, and I finally break the silence. “You think some secret military branch is worse than fucking Casca and Andy Scutari?”

“No. But you alone are absolutely no competition, honey.”

I’m pissed and determined now, so I cut the bullshit. “Enough, Oxy. I can take care of myself. Please give me the location.”

Another long pause, and finally a sigh. “If you get a chance before they blow your fucking brains out, do not mention my name. They don’t know who I am, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

*****

Sneaking out of a historic mansion is easy. Daiki doesn’t expect me to do it, and it’s not like I’m a prisoner there anyway. Once Daiki and my father find out I’m with Andy, they’ll be okay with it, I’m sure. I’m going regardless. A Yakuza queen doesn’t need permission.

I drive to the coordinates Oxy gave me and find… an abandoned fucking junkyard. Metal scraps and actual garbage litter the ground. There are some beat up, stripped cars a few hundred yards off, and lots of caution signs about all sorts of worrisome things, like trespassing or poisonous gasses. But I walk through anyway.

“Hello?” I say, testing out my voice to the utterly deserted area. “Is… is anyone here? I know what this place is. I have questions!”

There is no answer as I walk through the vast area and past another gate. “I want to see Andy Scutari, and… and I know someone is here!” A bird squawks overhead as it flies through the bright, cloudless sky. I’m glad it’s broad daylight, because the further into this haunted place I walk, the further my feeling of dread intensifies.

Finally, I walk up to a blind wooden fence. I test the door before I open it slightly. I feel it at that moment: the presence of another human being. I know they must be waiting to strike if they’re being this quiet. There is a moment of indecision, of course, because I don’t know what the person wants or what they’re going to do to me once I walk through the fence. But I decide to push through anyway with a burst of energy, and I go to face them with my hands up, speaking as fast as I can as they rush me.

“I’m just here to see—”

The person is on me with lightning speed, covering my mouth with their hand in an iron grip. I came without my knives on purpose, but I can’t help regretting that now.

I don’t have much time to think about it, though, because I sense another presence behind me and my neck is wrenched sideways and pricked with a needle.

“Oh my god!” I cry, my words clear, even muffled behind this masked stranger’s hand. “What did you give me? You better not fucking kill me. I’m…I’m—”

“Holy shit, this is Chi Yan,” one of the voices says, although whatever they gave me is quick acting, and I feel like I’m seeing and hearing everything through a faraway tunnel.

“Yeah, I am, you fucking assholes. And I swear to god… if you… touch me… I’ll… I’ll…” I lose my battle with speaking, which is just as well, considering the fact that I’m slurring all over the place.

“We’re not gonna kill you yet, but you must have a fucking death wish coming here,” one of the men says as I lose the ability to stand and sink backward into a strong grip. The other man grips my opposite side and slings my arm around his neck.

“Andy’s gonna kill you, dude,” the first guy says to the one who stuck me with the needle as my head lolls forward and lands on my chest.

“But this is protocol,” the other guy says uncertainly, as my eyes close like metal shutters. The last thing I hear would make me smile if my mouth could move.

“Shit. He is going to kill me, isn’t he?”