Chapter 7
Hope
“ S eventy-four, under the O, seventy-four!” I called before putting the bingo ball in the yellow bucket by my side.
“Seventy-four hit the floor!”
“That’s right.” I laughed, turning toward Mrs. Wallace, who was sitting at the table near the front, which was the same table as my mother and Jiro.
My heart squeezed in my chest at seeing him hunched over his own bingo card, glancing at my mom’s card, too, making sure she was not missing a number. He had his eyebrows furrowed, taking this far more seriously than winning a crochet set warranted.
I smiled with a little shake of my head as I turned the wheel again before picking another ball.
“Ten, under the B , ten!”
“Bingo!” an older man at the back called, followed by a very vocal “motherfucker” coming from Jiro.
My mother cracked a smile at his expletive; it was one of her good days.
“Okay, let’s take a short break while I check the ticket, and next up will be a spa basket. See you all back in fifteen minutes.”
I went off the stage with my list of numbers and checked the older gentleman’s card as the gentle buzz of conversation settled on the room.
Once I checked the numbers and congratulated the winner, I approached the table where Jiro and my mother were seated to get them some drinks.
“We’ll get that damned spa set, Liliane. God be my witness,” he said, leaning toward my mother.
My heart leaped in my chest as she reached for him and patted his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s fun.”
How was it possible for me not to fall for him?
“You’re a good man. I’m happy Hope has you. She deserves to be happy, you know that, little one.”
I rested my hand on my mouth to muffle my gasp of surprise. It was so rare that she remembered me.
Jiro grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. “I will take care of our Hope, Liliane. This is my vow to you.”
My mother nodded and looked behind her, smiling when she saw me. “Oh, Anna! I’m thirsty. Could you get me a lemonade, please, sweetheart?”
My smile wobbled as I deflated. I had hoped just for a few seconds that maybe she would call me by my name.
I nodded. “Of course, Mom. Do you want anything?” I asked, concentrating on Jiro. The intensity of his eyes on me made me shiver.
“No, I’m fine.”
I nodded again and brought her the drink before going back to the bingo game, somehow feeling a little heavier than I was at the start. Hearing her mentioning “Hope” and still calling me “Anna” really dampened my mood for the rest of the bingo event.
“Are you okay?” Jiro asked, coming to stand beside me as I looked at the center’s staff herding the patients back inside for the rest of the day’s activity.
I started to nod but stopped myself. I didn’t feel like faking it anymore today, and not with Jiro. “It’s just hard to get reminded of the fucked-up reality, even if it’s daily.”
He took a side step closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his chest.
I grabbed his shoulders, rejoicing in the comfort of his body heat, his firm muscles, and the faint smell of his cologne.
“Facing the truth is hard, but it’s often for the best. It’s when we delude ourselves that we cause pain around us.”
I pulled my head back but kept my grip on him. Not ready to break the contact yet.
“Truth…” I trailed off. Maybe it was time for me to face the truth, too. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Leo,” I said, barely louder than a whisper.
Jiro sighed, pulling me closer before looking around the empty room. “It’s possible but unlikely.” He shook his head. “Your—” He stopped talking and looked around the room again.
“You’re just as safe to talk here than anywhere else. Nobody cares about this place.”
He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then nodded. “Your brother is involved with the Valdez cartel.” He continued, his voice significantly lower than before. “Valdez is a sick motherfucker, and he loves to make his kills a cautionary tale for everyone. I would have expected his body to have come back up by now.”
“So it’s a good thing, right?”
He let go of me, and I reluctantly let go as well.
He grimaced, leaning back against the table. “In a sense that he’s still breathing—yes, I guess so, but that doesn’t automatically mean he’s okay.” He shrugged. “Best-case scenario, he just up and became a full-time thug.”
I frowned, somehow disliking the thought of my brother putting us, putting me, in this type of mental torture. But maybe he would. I snorted. Yeah, come to think of it, he totally could.
Jiro detailed me, his head cocked to the side. “It stung to think about it, right? ”
I shook my head a little.
Jiro waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “He could also be held against his will because he knows or has something Valdez wants, or he’s been sent for a mission somewhere.”
“I just want an answer… whatever it is.”
He nodded, looking away thoughtfully.
“I looked into that club, the one with the coin,” I admitted. I wanted to give him back the sincerity he’d just given me.
He turned back toward me, a disapproving scowl etched between his eyebrows.
“I didn’t do anything dangerous,” I quickly added, raising my hands in surrender. “Some of the girls working there come into the emporium, and I just, you know…” I shrugged. “I think it’s a wrong lead.”
“Okay…” he trailed off, burying his hands in his pockets. “Why do you think that?”
“Not that I think Leo is a saint or anything, but the girls said it’s super expensive and very exclusive. We don’t have any powerful friends, and we sure as hell don’t have the money.” I snorted; we were poor nobodies.
Jiro’s eyes flashed with a sort of indignation I could not really place before he moved from his spot on the table. “Do we need to take your mother home?”
I narrowed my eyes at the abrupt change of subject. “No, they will bring her back with the van later.”
He jerked his head toward the door. “Okay, let’s go then.”
“No, no.” I stayed where I stood. “I thought we were doing things with complete honesty now. What was that look about?”
“You had that money.”
I laughed. “I can assure you we did not.”
He sighed, looking heavenward. “Listen, it’s not great to talk about people who—”
I stomped my foot. “Talk, Jiro.”
He looked down at my Converse, a slight smile on his face. He seemed to like me best when I was frustrated with him.
“I’ve been sending you money for quite some time.”
I took a step back with shock and also a hint of embarrassment at his pity. “How long?”
“Listen, Hope, it doesn’t rea—”
I stomp my foot again. “HOW. LONG?”
“Probably since the start.”
“Oh…” I sat heavily on a chair that was still pulled back, grateful we stayed in the room after all. I could hardly believe the hypocrisy of my parents and brother. During all these years, they cursed Jiro while taking his money. “How much?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Jiro, how much?”
“Enough to pay for the club,” he replied evasively, and I was too shaken by the revelations and all that it implied.
I had lost the will to fight as tears of defeat started to prickle at the back of my eyes. I thought we’d just got bad luck and that we all suffered, but it seemed that I was the one who got the brunt of it. If Jiro had sent us enough money to cover the astronomical fees this club was costing, I could have easily finished college and probably…
“Don’t go there.”
I looked up at Jiro through the light haze of unshed tears as he now stood in front of me.
“What?” My voice cracked at the word.
He muttered something in Japanese before crouching in front of me. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, at least not yet. There’s no point dwelling on things you may never get answers to. There’s no point getting lost in the ‘what could have been.’”
He grabbed my hands in his, and I looked down as they rested on my lap. His strong hands engulfed mine, warming my freezing fingers.
I looked back at him silently; his face was so close, his eyebrows slightly etched as his eyes scanned my face with concern.
“These thoughts are poisonous, Hope. Take it from someone who knows. Nothing, and I mean nothing , good can come out from the path your thoughts were taking.” He tightened his hold on my hands, bringing one to his mouth and kissing the back of it.
It was an innocent gesture, a gentle attempt to comfort me, and yet the simple brush of his lips seemed to wake all my nerves, turning my blood into liquid fire. How was that possible?
“Is that why you came?” I asked him, this question still occupying the forefront of the mystery that Jiro Saito was.
He stayed crouched in front of me as his thumb brushed back and forth on my knuckles.
“No, I came to find a way to let go of it, actually. I didn’t leave the clan, Hope. I was cast away.” He looked away sharply, and I pursed my lips, stopping myself from saying anything—breaking the confession I assumed was hard for him to make.
He took a deep breath. “I deserved it, I did, and even if I’m gone, Hoka is still my brother. But I’ve let my past… my own interpretation of it impact the future of people I love, and I can’t do that anymore, and I can’t allow you to take this path either.” He let go of my hand and cupped my cheek.
I closed my eyes, nuzzling shamelessly in the kind, gentle gesture.
“Hope, whatever happened, happened. There is no benefit of you mulling over how things could have been or how they should have been. You’re twenty-two, you’ve got your whole life in front of you. Let’s concentrate on that.”
I closed my eyes, turned my head into his hand, and kissed his palm. He took a sharp intake of breath, and I opened my eyes, surprised to find him so close, his nose almost touching mine.
“You’re right. It’s not too late to go for what I want.” My heart pounded in my chest, and in a moment of bravery or complete insanity, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. His hand on my cheek tensed, pulling me closer, and I responded with a soft sigh, deepening the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of danger and desire that I couldn’t resist. His hand still cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The intensity of his touch, the way his lips moved against mine, ignited a fire within me that I had never felt before.
The sound of a loud crash from the corridor snapped us back to the present, and Jiro abruptly pulled away.
He stood up briskly and stepped back, his hand running through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “Hope, I…” His words faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Regret shadowed his features, his eyes avoiding mine.
My heart sank, the warmth of the moment replaced by a cold wave of disappointment. I had let myself believe, even for a brief moment, that he felt the same way I did. But now, his sudden withdrawal told me a different story.
“It’s okay,” I said softly, though the ache in my chest told me it was anything but okay. I wrapped my arms around myself as if that could protect me from the sudden chill that had settled over us.
Jiro looked at me, his gaze haunted by a storm of conflicting emotions. “Hope, I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have…”
“It’s fine,” I repeated, my voice a mere whisper. I fought to keep the hurt from showing in my eyes, to keep the sting of tears at bay. I had known the risks, after all. Jiro was a tortured man haunted by his past. By my sister’s ghost, and I had no right to expect anything more from him.
His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching as he clenched it. “Let me take you home,” he said, his voice strained.
I stood up from my chair and nodded, unable to trust my voice. We walked to his bike in silence, the weight of unspoken words heavy between us. As we rode, the wind whipped through my hair, and I held on tightly, trying to focus on the rush of adrenaline rather than the ache in my chest.
The ride back to my apartment felt like an eternity, each passing second amplifying the emptiness I felt. When we finally arrived, I quickly dismounted the bike, my movements almost frantic. I didn’t want him to see the tears that threatened to spill over.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, happy that my voice sounded clear as I extended the helmet back to him. “I’ll see you on Saturday for the club.”
I turned away from him, fumbling for my keys and practically sprinting up the path to my building.
“Hope,” his voice called after me, tinged with an urgency that only added to the turmoil inside me.
I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t. I unlocked the door and rushed inside, my heartache a heavy weight on my chest.
I ran up the stairs to my apartment, and once I was securely inside, I leaned against the closed door, letting out a shaky breath.
Tears blurred my vision, and I angrily brushed them away. I had known anything between us was impossible, but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less. I had opened my heart, letting myself hope for something more, and now I was left with the bitter taste of rejection.
I walked into our sparse living room and slouched onto our ratty couch. I let the tears finally fall, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability in the privacy of my own home. Jiro’s face flashed in my mind, his touch still lingering on my skin, and I pushed away the ache, the disappointment.
I had faced worse challenges in my life, and I wasn’t about to let a moment of heartache define me. With a determined sigh, I wiped away the tears, stood up, and set my focus on the future. Whatever it held, I would face it with strength and resilience, just as I always had.