Chapter 6
Jiro
T emporary insanity.
It had to be that. I didn’t know why I kissed her. I certainly didn’t need to show him the side of my chest, which showed both my allegiance to the yakuza and my initial status of executioner. He’d been scared enough, but I’d been in a dark mood when I’d shown up at the store, seeing that stupid Max standing much too close to her, touching her like he was entitled to.
Maybe he was entitled to, certainly more than I was, and yet it’d unsettled me in the most unreasonable way possible.
I thought back to all the times Hoka had taken what I considered stupid and reckless decisions as far as Violet was concerned, and I suddenly didn’t feel like pointing my finger at him anymore.
Everything I’d done with Hope so far was out of character—the jealousy, the sense of ownership I was unfamiliar with… the sense of belonging. So, I did what I always did best when my feelings were involved. I fled. Well, metaphorically, at least, because while she’s not seen me for the past three days, I’ve seen her, following her around town like her shadow as she was oblivious to my presence. I was too scared to slip again, knowing that this time I may not stop taking what my irrational mind kept screaming was mine.
My heart fluttered as she exited the sex shop to rush into the coffee shop just beside it, dressed in an adorable white dress with cherries on it and matching red Converse.
Koi no yokan , my mind whispered, and I hated that. The ancestors couldn’t be that cruel, could they? They could not give me a soul mate who was so forbidden—the little sister of the woman I killed. I was the source of this family’s misery.
I snorted. Of course, they would! Sadistic bastards. What better way to make me pay for my sin than to give me something I could never keep ?
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I took a few steps back into the side alley across the road from her store, hiding myself from any potential sighting.
I let out a huff of relief at seeing Hoka’s name on the screen. The sooner we fixed the problem, the sooner I could leave and forget Hope.
Will you?
“Hey! I’ve good news… under conditions,” Hoka announced as soon as I answered.
I was grateful for his direct nature. I didn’t have time for mindless chitchat right now.
I snorted. “Of course there is. It’s Doyle, after all.”
“You’re good to go on Saturday, but you have to bring the girl. He’s under the assumption you would do nothing reckless with her as potential collateral damage.”
I pursed my lips. He was right… clever bastard.
I’d planned to do that part of the mission without her, no matter what I had promised or how angry she might have been. I was sure she wouldn’t be mad once I dropped her useless brother in front of her door.
“Okay, that’s it?”
“Not quite.” Hoka let out a huff of irritation. “You can only ask questions about her brother or his associate. Anyone else is off-limits.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Like I care about his list of perverts.”
“And you can’t use any room or any girl.”
“Obviously!” None of the girls appealed to me, but the rooms… that was a whole different story. I couldn’t help but imagine Hope with me in one of them for a second .
I hissed as I felt my hardening length press against the front of my zipper and switched my stance to ease my discomfort. “What was it like not to have control of your head and cock once you met Violet? Did you ever consider throwing yourself off a fucking bridge?” I blurted out, not having only lost control of my body and lust but my mind too.
The line was eerily silent for a second, and I even stopped breathing. Apparently, the insanity went much further than I initially expected to make me voice this out loud.
“Jir—”
“I also may need Oda after all,” I added quickly, knowing there was no way he didn’t hear what I just said, but also determined to pretend it didn’t happen.
“Jiro.” I hated the worry that my name alone carried.
“I knew the brother was involved with local gangs,” I continued as if he had not spoken at all. “But I think it’s not just any stupid gang. One of them came to Hope’s store, and based on his tattoos, he’s a soldier of the Valdez cartel.”
“Oh.” That stirred Hoka’s mind right out of my stupid admission. “We don’t have bad blood with Valdez—I’ll go even as far as to say they owe us one for not meddling when the Chinese asked.”
I twisted my mouth to the side. That was true. “I suppose so, but I’m not a yakuza anymore. I have no weight to talk to Valdez.”
“You’ll always be a yakuza, Jiro.”
“I know, but if things went south…” I trailed off. I didn’t need to add what we both knew. I would not have any legitimacy to ask for backup.
“I’m sure this can be arranged,” he added.
I pursed my lips. Having Oda here was an added complication as a hint of jealousy started to spread into my mind.
Oda was all my good things and none of my bad. He was young and not yet broken. He was annoyingly funny and strong—someone who would be perfect for Hope if she was so adamant about sinking into this type of darkness, and yet I couldn’t accept that.
“How is she doing? Hope, is that right?”
I couldn’t help but smile at Hoka’s not-so-discreet way of fishing for information, and I could not blame him after the teenage boy hormonal outbreak he’d just witnessed.
“Yes, it’s Hope, and you know it.” I sighed. “She’s something else, you know? And I don’t think she sees it herself. She went through a staggering amount of shit, and she’s still so brave, forgiving, and radiating goodness. It’s humbling, really.”
“Yes, they have to be particularly strong to be ikigai for men like us. It takes an impressive amount of strength, both mental and emotional, to be the soul mate of a yakuza.”
I leaned my back against the brick wall, resting my hand over my heart and the painful echo his words caused.
“She is not . She can’t be.”
Hoka sighed. “Maybe, maybe not, but I know from experience that even if it is rarely convenient, it’s worth it.”
“I—” How could I build a future on the ghosts of my past? “Let me know when Oda is on the way, okay?”
Hoka sighed again. I swear that had become his automatic response to me these days. “And you’ll let me know what you find out, okay? Yakuza or not, you’re my brother. I have your back.”
I nodded, even if he couldn’t see me, knowing full well that if things really went south, I would never involve him. He was the head of the yakuza, yes, but he was also a loving husband and doting father. I destroyed a family once and almost destroyed Hoka’s shot to a happy ending. I would not do it again.
“I’ll keep you posted.” I put the phone back in my pocket, and as soon as I walked out of the alley, I met the blue eyes of a furious Hope.
She was standing a few steps away, her arms crossed over her chest, one Converse-clad foot tapping on the sidewalk, and with her adorable angry frown on her face.
Why did angry Hope elate me? Why was her anger pleasing me? Because I was a sick fuck!
“Why are you following me?”
“Who says I’m following you?” I asked, closing the distance between us and standing close enough for her to kick.
Her frown deepened, and her eyes flickered to my crotch. I had to stop my smile from spreading, knowing she probably pictured kicking me in the balls.
I took a step back just in case. That kitten had claws.
“I’m not an idiot, Jiro! And you could come and talk to me like a normal person instead of following me in the shadows. Plus, you shouldn’t do that. You’re terrible at it.”
I raised my eyebrows. No, I wasn’t terrible at it. I was excellent at it—even better than trained spies. I was a kage yakuza… a shadow before rising to Hoka’s right hand.
“Is that right?”
She huffed and nodded. “Yes, I knew you were there the whole time.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You saw me?” I doubted it.
She twisted her mouth, fidgeting on her feet. “No, I just knew.”
That was devastating news because it confirmed what I feared. She could feel me just as I felt her. She was my goddamned ikigai . Fuck!
“Jiro?” Her anger morphed into concern, and I was wondering how much of my desperation she could see.
I forced a smile, pointing at the store. “Won’t you be in trouble with the boss man if you stay too long?”
She glanced toward the store before looking back at me. “No, I was not supposed to work today. Just catching some hours, and I have something planned for the afternoon.”
Both my curiosity and jealousy were piqued. “Is that right? Can I join you? It would be easier than, you know… following you like a creep.”
She tried to glare, but a lovely pink hue of self-consciousness covered her cheeks and neck. “I… You know it’s not interesting. I’m spending the afternoon at Belleview Center.”
“That’s where your mother goes, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes, three days a week, and in exchange for the preferential rate, you can offer your time. So they have me one afternoon per week.”
My annoyance and dislike for her brother came back like a tidal wave. With the money I had been sending, she could have easily finished her schooling and got her mother to that center full time without the need to trade her time for a meager three days.
I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her how much of a waste of space her brother truly was and that maybe she shouldn’t waste too much of her worries on him. Maybe she should just leave him where he was—dead or alive—and take back control of her life. I’d give her all the money she wanted. She was only twenty-two; she could go back to school, set her mother in full-time care, and live. It was not too late for her.
It is not too late for you… The insidious voice in the depths of my chest piped in, allowing me to wonder how I could fit into her narrative. Could I make it? Be the doting househusband living in our little house in a suburb—with our white picket fence, our Sunday barbecues, and our—
“Jiro?”
I blinked as she waved her hand in front of my face.
A profound sense of mortification swallowed me, and it was not a feeling I was used to or had ever really experienced.
“Yes, I was just thinking. I’m sure they could use another pair of hands, right?”
She shrugged. “Well, of course, they always can. They are overworked and underfunded, but…” She looked up at me, twisting her plump mouth to the side. “I don’t think it’s for you, Jiro, it’s…” She shook her head with a little grimace.
Her half-spoken thoughts grated me the wrong way and also hurt me a little. I knew who I was; I never made a secret of it, and in the grand scheme of things, she was right. I was, and have been, an executioner for the yakuza, but I was so much more, and I wanted her to see that.
It was irrational. Of course it was. I had claimed to want to keep the distance, that I was all wrong for her, and yet I wanted her to see me under all the right lights.
I wanted her to see the potential, no matter how stupid it was.
“You don’t think I’m able to help someone other than with my katana and guns? I’m more than just death and destruction, you know.” I meant to say it in a joking tone, but it came out far more intense than I intended.
She widened her eyes. “No!” she gasped, resting her hand on my chest.
I was not sure of the reason. Maybe it was to reassure me, or perhaps she was acting on a pull we probably both felt, but feeling her touch me burned my skin deliciously, even through my shirt.
She took a sharp breath, and as she tried to remove her hand, my instincts took over and pressed mine ?on top of hers, stopping her retreat. I liked the contact. I was not ready for it to stop.
“Let me come, please. Let me show you I’m far more than you think.”
She kept her eyes on my hand on top of hers. Her pupils dilated, and goose bumps spread on her arm as I ran my thumb back and forth on the back of her hand.
“I—yes, of course.” She stopped looking at our hands and looked up at my face, the apple of her cheeks still pink. “ I just didn’t want you to get bored. It’s nothing glamorous.”
“No?” I raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought that care homes were the underground Mafia of Seattle.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a little laugh. “You’d be surprised. Okay, fine. You’re welcome to join.”
And then, I was not really sure why I did what I did. I grabbed her hand from my chest and kissed her palm before letting it go.
“Oh!” Her face turned beet red, and I quickly turned around, hoping she didn’t see how much it had unsettled me, too.
A chaste brush of my lips on her palm affected my body in ways that even the most depraved sex never did. I turned my head to the side, finding her still cradling her hand. “Come on, Hope Myers, let’s go.”
I didn’t know what the future held; I didn’t even know what Hope and I were going to become or not, but I knew one thing for sure.
I would not be the same man when I left as I was when I came.