Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Panic
The phone clattered to the floor and Reiko stumbled back until she hit the wall. Her heart catapulted into an Olympic-worthy sprint and she couldn’t breathe. Steam wafted into the room from the shower stall, only making the air thicker.
Otō-san?
It wasn’t possible.
Rather, it was so astoundingly unlikely that it may as well have been impossible.
He didn’t speak to her. He hadn’t communicated a single message to her, by choice, since he’d thrown her out of the house when she was eighteen.
He’d been full of words that day, the day he’d met her at the door of what she’d thought was her home, demanded her cell phone and keys, and indicated the trash bag that rested against the wall.
The bag was all she was to take with her aside from the cash in her cheap purse and the clothes on her back.
He’d even demanded she remove the bits of jewelry she was wearing, jewelry her part-time job hadn’t paid for.
Later, she had learned the bag contained clothing, an old lunch box stuffed with her necessary papers, and an empty jewelry box she’d once written her name on with a colored gel-pen.
The box hadn’t been empty when she’d left the house that day, of course.
“Be grateful you’re getting even that much, after all you’ve cost me. Now leave, and never come into my sight again.”
He’d said it with so much venom, so much hatred in his eyes. As if he’d waited her entire life to spit those words at her. And after all the years of being down-beaten, Reiko hadn’t had the courage or the strength to put up a fuss.
Part of her had been relieved.
It had been hard, finding her feet so suddenly.
But she’d managed. More importantly, the only other times Reiko had heard from someone in her father’s circle had been regarding Hiroto’s graduation and her mother’s death.
The latter hadn’t even been authorized communication.
And none of it, ever, came directly from him.
Though she supposed she had known that he’d kept tabs on her.
How could she not know, since Hiroto contacted her annually?
Her brother had her number, which meant her father had access to it.
It wasn’t a stretch to think either could learn her address, what car she drove, or where she worked.
She just didn’t know why they would put in the effort.
She stared at the phone, her lungs burning and yet refusing to expand, her body frozen despite the rising temperature of the room. Why? Why, after so many years, would he reach out at all?
She’d lost other jobs. She’d moved several times.
It wasn’t like she listed him or his company as connections in any way.
She deliberately left her familial contact information blank on paperwork, and when she was pressed, she labeled them deceased.
If they were going to cut her off, she figured that was the fairest, easiest way to handle things.
Arguably it was a courtesy they’d never deserved.
She finally sucked in a gasping breath, blue eyes flashing across her field of vision. Was that … was that a thought she would have had, before Santino?
Her phone buzzed again, the sound louder and angrier on the vinyl floor, and she let out an involuntary scream. Then she clamped both hands over her mouth, staring at the device as the screen that had briefly lit with whatever message once again went dark.
A second text?
None of it made sense.
Nothing made sense. Why would her father even acknowledge her existence, let alone be demanding her presence at his place of work?
It wouldn’t be beyond him to charge her for the gas of the transportation she’d never asked for when everything was said and done, either. And what could he possibly want to say?
She managed to drag in another hard breath, her lungs still desperate for the air she was denying herself. No. That’s not the question. It didn’t matter what Osamu Matsunaga might have decided he needed to say. The question was—was there any reason at all she should listen?
Sharp pounding from the direction of the front door cut through the strange non-silence before Reiko could fully process her own thoughts. Again, she startled, jumping in place at the unexpected noise. At least she managed not to scream.
But so help her, if the car was already outside, she was liable to lose hold of her sanity. He’d said two hours!
The knocking stopped before she could force herself from the bathroom and an unfamiliar voice called through the apartment, “Miss Matsunaga? Is everything all right?”
At first, the notion of a stranger letting himself in only added to her panic.
She glanced toward her sloppily discarded phone, only then realizing she’d taken a step away from the wall, wondering if she could get a call out in time.
It wasn’t until she was thinking through who she would call that another possibility occurred to her.
Santino had said he would have someone watching her apartment. She’d already met one such man.
Santino…
She pushed the emotional response down, forced herself to scoop up the phone, and tried not to cry in frustration when she realized the screen was quite thoroughly shattered. She hadn’t exactly been gentle.
“Ma’am?” The voice had grown louder.
Reiko snapped to attention and shuffled to the doorway, double-checking herself on reflex as she moved.
She was only half-dressed and not thrilled about being seen in such a state, but there was a stranger in her apartment either there to kill her or save her.
She wasn’t sure the state of her clothes mattered in either scenario.
So, she cracked the door open despite knowing she was showing too much skin and poked her head out.
“Um, who are you? Why are you in my apartment?”
A figure pivoted at the end of the hall, his wide frame mostly obscured thanks to the poor lighting.
She glimpsed dark hair but couldn’t make out many details about his face, although she felt certain he turned it too far to be looking straight at her.
A movement he attempted to cover by coughing unnaturally into his free hand.
Free, because his other hand held a gun.
The nerves she’d barely conquered climbed back up her throat.
“Apologies, ma’am. I thought I heard a scream and Mr. Guerra was very clear about maintaining your safety.”
The breath rushed from her and Reiko had to grab hold of the doorframe. Santino. “So, you’re … not here to kill me, or anything?” Why had she gotten it into her head that he was?
He shot her a half-second’s glance as if her question confused him, too. “No, ma’am.”
She looked down at her phone again and tapped an undamaged portion of the screen.
When it lit up, she saw that the second message that had come in was from Santino, not the number that might belong to her father.
Which made her feel silly and ridiculous, but also comforted, all at once.
She brushed her finger over a cracked portion, testing its usability, and winced.
Somehow, she’d managed to drop the phone in a way that caused the screen to shatter and crack outward. That would be uncomfortable.
“Ma’am? Are you hurt?”
Heat bloomed across her face and Reiko snapped her attention upward to the man standing awkwardly several feet down her hall.
“Oh, um, no, not really.” She shook her head.
“I got a weird message is all, and it made me jumpy. And I broke my phone.” She held the device out before realizing that he was avoiding looking at her, so wouldn’t see the damage.
Where was her brain that morning? “Um, would it be possible for you to let Santino know that I may not be able to contact him for a few hours? I apparently have an obligation and I don’t think I’ll be able to use this, but I won’t have time to get it replaced until after. ”
A new phone would eat into her savings significantly, too. That probably put a damper on her optimistic plan of holding out for a more ideal career.
The man in the hall shifted his weight. “I can contact the boss for you,” he said. “If there’s somewhere you need to go, we can—”
“It’s not really something I have a choice about,” she said, cutting off the visibly uncomfortable gunman.
Her hand tightened around her phone as her mind scrambled to make sense of the confusing morning.
Maybe even find a path out. And she latched desperately onto the only angle she could see.
“Could you please tell Santino, specifically, that my father is demanding an audience with me this morning? I’m apparently to be picked up and hauled around like a doll in about ninety minutes, so I really am short on time. ”
It was rather typical of the man she remembered, and that was not a reassurance.
The man tucked his gun behind his back and gave a short nod. “I’ll pass that along, ma’am. And I’ll be just outside if you need anything. Apologies again.” He pivoted in place and strode out of sight.
Reiko retreated back into the bathroom and looked down at her phone once more.
She debated attempting to type out at least one text, or even at least navigating through to read Santino’s waiting message, but hesitated.
Blood already bubbled in a thin line across the pad of her thumb.
How much more badly would she bleed if she was stubborn?
A dangerous, equal parts mortifying and exciting, thought followed quickly. If she endured, just for that one text, and bled for that—bled for him—would he take her fingers into his mouth and lick them the way he’d licked her scar? The way he’d licked up her tears?
Reiko slammed the phone onto the bathroom counter before she could tempt herself with the harmful urge. Even if he would do such an illicit thing, her fingers would be long scabbed over and sore by the time she saw him next. If any part of her was going to need tending by then, it was her heart.