Chapter 8
Jiro
I stood outside Doyle’s club, my irritation simmering just beneath the surface as I checked my watch again.
Hope had insisted on taking a taxi, refusing my offer to pick her up. Stubborn, as always. But I couldn’t help the frustration that gnawed at me. It was ridiculous, really, to be annoyed about something so trivial. But it was more than that. It was the constant reminder that I had no right to be here, no right to claim any part of her life. And also a reminder that, despite all that, I hated when she put any kind of distance between us. No matter how justified it was.
And then the taxi pulled up, and my breath caught in my throat. Hope stepped out, a vision of beauty that left me momentarily speechless. Her short black dress clung to her body in all the right places, showing well-toned legs under fishnet tights. Her lavender hair fell in waves around her shoulders. She was undeniably desirable, a fact that hit me like a punch to the gut, especially knowing the lustful looks she would get once we stepped into this den of sex.
She approached with that cool indifference in her eyes, a shield that she seemed to have built against me. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and openness I had seen in her before. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration at the distance she was putting between us.
I had taken extra care with my appearance tonight, hoping to erase some of the damage my unwilling rejection caused. My clothes were impeccable, and my hair meticulously styled. But it seemed to be in vain. Her cool gaze skimmed over me as if I were just another stranger.
“Hey,” she greeted, her voice polite but distant. Her eyes met mine, a cautiousness lurking in their depths that I hadn’t seen before. It was as if she had built a protective shield around herself, one I wasn’t sure I could breach.
“Hey,” I replied, my voice rougher than I intended. I wanted to reach out, to pull her close and forget about everything else. But the memories of my past mistakes held me back, a reminder that I didn’t deserve her.
I cleared my throat, trying to steer the conversation to safer waters. “How have you been?” I asked. A simple question that held more weight than I could express.
“I’m sorry for being late. The friend who usually takes care of my mother was delayed at work,” she replied, ignoring my question.
Had she been just as miserable as I had?
My attention drifted, and I noticed the way some men were eyeing her. A surge of jealousy shot through me, an irrational possessiveness that clashed with my sense of responsibility. I wanted to reach out, to bridge the distance between us, but I held back. The ghosts of my past whispered in my ear, a constant reminder that I was no good for her, that I could only bring her pain. I had no right to feel this way, not after what I had done.
“Are you alright?” Her voice cut through my thoughts, her eyes searching mine for answers.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied, offering a small smile. “Just lost in thought.”
She seemed to study me for a moment as if trying to decipher the turmoil in my gaze. The questions were there in her eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer them.
She sighed. “Shouldn’t we go in? I’m not comfortable being outside like this.”
I looked at her suggestive dress, leaving little to the imagination, and sighed. It was going to be a very long evening.
“Okay, let’s go.” I rested my hand against her soft, bare back and cursed the situation even more.
What would have happened if things were different? I shook my head just as we reached the security at the entrance of the club.
I was doing exactly what I told her not to do. I was getting lost in what could have been.
“Name?” the man said, his eyes narrowing on the tattoo peeking out at the side of my neck. He moved a little, causing his jacket to open slightly and reveal his gun.
I had to admit I admired his smoothness and not-so-subtle warning.
“Jiro Saito.”
The man scanned his clipboard. “You’re not on the list.”
“The other list,” I replied.
He scanned it and shook his head. “Nope.”
I cursed Doyle inwardly, already reaching into my pocket to call Benetti.
“But maybe the little lady is on the list,” he added, his eyes locked on the curve of Hope’s breasts before licking his lips suggestively.
I let my hand trail down Hope’s back and grabbed her hip, pulling her toward me in a possessive gesture.
“Hope Myers?” she tried, leaning into me, and despite the dangerousness of the situation, I could not help but marvel at her seeking safety with me.
“Ah, yes. Hope Myers plus one.”
Doyle was a dick but a smart one. He ensured that I would take her no matter what.
“Please walk in. I’ll let Ronan know you’re on your way.”
I kept my hand on Hope’s hip as we walked into the club. We fit so well together.
We followed a man through the main part of the club down to the Den of Forbidden Pleasures, as it was written on top of an archway.
“Please wait here; Ronan will come for you in a minute.”
As we waited, a curtain opened, revealing a blond woman being roughly fucked by a large man covered in tattoos.
The corridor started to fill with the passionate cries coming from the room, and after looking for a second, Hope snorted and rolled her eyes as if the woman’s cries of pleasure left her completely unaffected.
I looked down at her as she looked away, tapping her foot impatiently as she glanced to the door of Ronan’s office. It made me angry at her in a very unfair way. My body reacted to that woman’s pleasure but not for her; I couldn’t care less about her sexual prowess. No, I imagined Hope—lying on my bed, her lilac hair spread across my pillow as she made similar noises with my cock so deep inside of her, she would feel me for days.
I shook my head with a sigh, adjusting myself. It was not the time and place for these kinds of thoughts.
It’s never the time and place for thinking about Hope Myers! She is off-limits .
I should have just dropped it altogether, but how could she… “It doesn’t do anything to you at all?” I asked before I could think better of it.
She turned toward me, an eyebrow raised. “What?”
Sure, Jiro, tell her you’re a fucking perv . “Her pleasure,” I added, pointing at the window.
She waved her hand dismissively. “She’s a good actress. I’ll give you that.”
My frown deepened. “Why do you say that?” I glanced at the scene again, and the woman had her head back, her eyes rolled as she orgasmed. I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips as I glanced back at Hope. “I can assure you that woman is not faking.”
She shrugged, her gaze distant. “I don’t care. I’m not into sex. I’ve never… felt that way, not like others seem to.”
“You’re not into…” I shook my head; I had to have misheard.
She sighed. “Jiro, I’m not going to discuss that with you. I don’t like it.”
I felt like the devil possessed me, and I took one step after another toward her until she had her back pressed against the wall and I was looking down at her.
I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a whisper, the confidence in my eyes challenging her. “Trust me, with the right man, you would. I saw how you reacted with just a brush of my hand, how you responded to our kiss.” I brought my hand up and trailed a finger along the column of her neck. “I can confidently say, Hope, that if you were in my bed, I would make you scream in ways you’ve never even dreamed of.”
She met my gaze challengingly. “Prove it.”
“No,” I let out a little too vehemently. I took a step back in surprise just as a redhead, middle-aged man who I assumed was Ronan opened the office door.
“Ah, the sister and the yakuza.” He gestured us in. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”
Hope shrugged, despite the pink hue on her skin that I knew was not due to the couple having sex but just to my proximity.
“Was it for the shock factor?” she asked, walking into the office. “I’m sorry to say it was a failure.”
Ronan chuckled, rounding his desk and gesturing to the seats across from it.
“So, Doyle said you had some questions. I’m listening,” he said, resting his hand on his soft belly and looking at Hope.
Hope threw me a side look, and I jerked my head toward Ronan. He wanted her to lead the conversation.
I sighed, extending her the gold coin.
“It’s about my brother, Leo.” She put the coin on his desk. “He’s been gone for over a week, and that’s the only lead I have.”
Ronan nodded, pulling the coin closer to him. “It’s a real one.”
I inhaled deeply and rolled my eyes. “We know,” I let out on a loud exhale.
“I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know. We’ve not seen Leo Myers in a while, and he would not be welcome without this,” he added, tapping his finger on the coin.
I had a lot of experience in interrogation; we could even say I was a master in the art, and I recognized political cant from a mile away. The only way to make him talk was to tap into his price.
“You know, I have to say, I’m quite impressed with the way you’re running this club. It’s far more inclusive than Boston is. Good on you for being more open,” I offered with a smile.
He frowned, turning slightly on his seat to face me, taking the bait I threw his way. “What do you mean?” he snorted. “Don’t you know how expensive the joining fees are?”
I leaned back in my chair, extending my legs and crossing them at the ankles. “ I know that, but for Boston, money is not enough; you need a name and connection, and, no offense to Hope here, Leo Myers is a nobody.”
Hope was far from being a nobody, at least not to me. Fuck, it was the opposite! The woman had the potential to become my everything.
“But it’s all good though. I think it makes sense for smaller clubs to be less exclusive.”
Ronan’s mouth ticked up with annoyance. “Is that what you think? Well, I’ll ask you to rethink that. By accepting Leo Myers’s money, we’ve got a direct line to Manuel Valdez.”
Gotcha!
His eyes widened a little at his slipup, and his previous placid, almost amused expression turned into a scowl. “I think we’re done here.”
“No, I don’t think we are. Doyle said we could ask what we want about Leo Myers.”
“He did, but he also said as long as it doesn’t impact other clients’ privacy.”
“Is Valdez a client?”
Ronan stood up. “You can go now.”
I mirrored his movement, but Hope remained on her chair. “No, please. I—You’re the only lead we have. Mr. Ronan, please.”
He looked at her, and his face softened. Yes, it was impossible not to melt when looking at Hope’s deep-blue eyes and angelic face. “I don’t know anything more, little one, but I can make a promise to you. If your brother shows up, I’ll call you day or night, okay?”
“But…” She turned toward me, her eyes helpless.
I smiled down at her and extended my hand. “We have what we need, Hope, I promise.”
She threw me a hesitant look before staring at my hand.
Trust me.
My heart filled with joy when she slipped her hand in mine, albeit a little hesitantly, and I pulled her up.
“Thank you for your time, and thank Doyle for me,” I added, automatically pulling Hope against me. It was not necessary, but as with everything with Hope Myers, once I tried, I was addicted, and I loved having her body molded against mine.
Ronan nodded before letting his eyes trail up Hope’s body before going back down, resting on her bare thighs.
“If you’re ever looking for a job…” He trailed off, and Hope’s mouth tipped down with disgust.
I pursed my lips, trying to ignore how his look and comment made me feel, and opened the door, but once she was out, I thought better of it and closed it, leaving her in the corridor.
I turned around, resting my back on the door, and channeled all the darkness I had inside me .
“Tell you what, Ronan . You look at her that way again or make those allusions one more time, and I can tell you that Doyle or no Doyle, I will cut out your tongue and make you swallow it before gouging your eyes out and leaving you to rot on the floor. I’ve done it before, and I don’t mind doing it again.”
He paled and took a step back, his previous bravado gone.
“Jiro!” Hope called, knocking on the door.
“I am and always will be an executioner. Remember that, Ronan,” I added quickly before opening the door. “Ready?”
She looked flustered and overly annoyed as she scowled at me.
I grabbed her hand and started down the corridor toward the exit.
“What was that about?” she hissed as we took the metal stairs back up to the main part of the club.
“I needed to remind him who he was dealing with.”
“And who’s that?” she asked, stopping on the last step, refusing to move.
“Death,” I replied, opening the door and pulling her forward.
I know my words probably scared her, but I had no time to look at her face. We needed to get out of this place, and even if I hated scaring her, at least it made her move again.
As soon as we hit the busy street, she pulled her hand out of mine and crossed her arms on her chest.
“What was that all about?” She glowered; fuck, she was beautiful. “We came here and left with nothing. ”
I looked around the street for a second, looking for both a taxi and some ears that may be lurking around.
“We do have something,” I replied quite evasively, but as I glanced at what I suspected was supposed to be her best death glare, I sighed. “We know that your brother is obviously pretty much alive and is much higher in the Valdez organization than I could have expected.” Or from what I was able to find online.
“Is that a good thing?”
I looked at her and grimaced. “For him? Probably. For us?” I shrugged. “I’m not certain yet.”
“What are we doing now?”
“Now? I’m waiting for Oda to get here, and I am getting a meeting with Valdez.”
“ We are. You said you’ll do it with me.”
“No, I am. And I said that as long as it was safe. Valdez is not safe.”
“I want to come.”
“You won’t. End of discussion.” I shook my head as irritation grew at the stubborn woman by my side. I needed to get her home now. I looked at the taxi station. “Come on, let me take you home.”
She looked down at her dress and shook her head. “No, I’ll take a taxi. I’m not dressed for getting on your bike.”
I would have loved to disagree, and I probably would have if there were less baggage between us. I definitely would have liked her spread on my bike. I would have loved to get a peek at the type of underwear she’d worn under this sexy outfit.
“We’re not taking my bike. We’ll grab a taxi,” I said, raising my arm to call one.
“What about your bike?”
“I’ll come pick it up later.”
The taxi stopped in front of us, and I opened the door before extending my hand to help her in.
She ignored my hand and climbed in, flashing me with the red lace of her underwear, temporarily freezing my brain.
She grabbed the handle once she sat. “I’ll go home by myself. I don’t need a keeper, Jiro Saito. I needed an ally, and it’s clearly not what you are.” She pulled the door closed, and I watched it drive off, my cock in a semi with only the piece of red lace in my mind.
Fuck my life .