Chapter 12
Banks
Present
A shrill ringing pierced the air the next morning, and I jolted awake, pawing the nightstand above my head for my phone. It dangled over the side, and I grabbed it, ripping out the charger as I blinked away the exhaustion. Gabriel’s name appeared on the screen. I answered it immediately.
“Banks,” I said, quickly clearing my throat as I sat up and swung my legs over the bed.
“A messenger will bring the contract to his dojo this morning,” he informed me. “Make sure he signs it.”
I rubbed my face, trying to wake up. Fuck, I shouldn’t have eaten that meal last night. I had more energy when I ate less. “I told you, I don’t think he has any intention of signing it. He wanted access to The Pope, because he thinks Damon is there. He’s screwing with us.”
“What do I care what his plan is?” my father snapped. “He saddled this pony. Now he gets to ride it.”
Kai wasn’t signing the damn contract. I wasn’t sure what he wanted with me—I wasn’t even sure he knew—but I definitely understood Kai didn’t like doing things the wrong way. After what I heard last night, he would never marry someone he didn’t know and explain to his father that he’d just bound himself to Gabriel Torrance. My father and Kai’s didn’t cross paths often, and despite the fact that their sons were good friends once, Katsu and Gabriel fucking hated each other.
“Damon isn’t at The Pope, correct?” Gabriel asked.
I stood up and walked over to the window, peeling back the tattered shade to see that it was raining.
“Like I told you, I think he was at some point,” I said. “But he appears to be gone now.”
My brother, I was sure, had several hiding spots in the city. If he was at The Pope, he would’ve seen us coming in time to scram.
“You would tell me if he was calling you? Or if you’d seen him?” he pressed, a threat in his tone. I could tell he was nervous. Damon was a time bomb, and Gabriel was losing his grip on how to handle him. “I realize he has your loyalty, but I’m the one who pays you. You are only protected by my good graces, little girl. Remember that.”
I released the shade, my ire rising. “And your only hold on him is me. Remember that.”
I immediately closed my eyes, regretting my lip. Shit.
My father fell silent. I’d gotten mouthy with him once. And once was all it took for me to learn my place.
I took a deep breath, calming my tone. “I’m on board with you,” I assured him. “Don’t worry, and trust that I can determine the best way to do my job. I know Damon better than anyone. I will get him home.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, but I could hear voices in the background. Thank goodness I wasn’t standing in front of him right now. If I were, his options about how to handle my impudence wouldn’t be so limited.
But to my surprise, he simply released a sigh and said, “Fine.” And then he added, “You should’ve been born a boy. You’re the son Damon should’ve been.”
I just stood there, the weight on my shoulders so heavy. Part of me liked hearing that. That he wished my brother was more like me and not the other way around. It filled my heart with pride.
But I still wasn’t a boy. And I never would be. That’s all it boiled down to. What was between my legs.
And no matter what I did or how hard I worked, there would always be that.
“Still, females aren’t completely useless,” he went on. “Kai likes you, so use what God gave you and get him to sign the contract. Don’t bother coming back until you do.”
And then he hung up.
I hit the Off button on my phone and tossed it into the sheets on the bed. Crossing my arms over my chest, I ground my teeth together, trying to find my fucking focus again.
I was so tired.
I should’ve just come home last night. I shouldn’t have gotten into his car or ate his food or let him tell me stupid fucking stories that made my stomach knot with things I shouldn’t feel.
What do I care that he likes mac and cheese, for Christ’s sake?
I ran my hand over the top of my head, pushing back the hairs that had come loose from my two French braids.
Dammit. I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning as I dug my nails into my scalp. The hair was suddenly so tight I just wanted to tear out the rubber bands and rip apart the braids. My head hurt. My skin burned. And my stomach ached with hunger, craving to be full again like it was last night.
I forced breaths in and out.
Where are you, Damon? We don’t have to live like this. Why did you leave me behind?
But I knew the answer. He left, because he knew I would wait. I always did.
The more Kai was in my days, though, the more confused I was becoming. He’d been so candid last night, reminiscing his old childhood apartment, but then his expression turned sad, recalling how his father had succeeded in becoming such a great man. He left so much unsaid. So much he didn’t really need to say, I guess.
He thought he was a disappointment.
I looked around my small, one-room apartment, the cracked floorboards vibrating under my feet every time someone walked down the hallway outside my door.
The dirty window was covered by a yellowed shade. The sink sat empty, my one dish, one bowl, one cup, and one set of silverware sitting in the dish rack next to it. There was a futon I’d bought at a second-hand store and some cinderblocks with a board on top functioning as the coffee table.
Kai Mori didn’t know how lucky he was. At least he had people to count on, an education, opportunities, and chances.
I didn’t even have a high school diploma.
No money, either, and I could never leave the one person I gave a shit about.
Kai could always rise higher, and I was getting tired of being around him and being reminded that I couldn’t.
I would always live like this.
Jogging up the narrow stairwell, I swung around the railing and continued up to the second floor. Cigarette butts laid squashed into the chipped wooden floors, and I breathed through my mouth to keep the stench of everything else going on in this building from making me gag. It was no picnic growing up with Damon and Gabriel, but I was so thankful my brother took me away from here eleven years ago.
I pounded on my mother’s apartment door, the 3 missing from the two-thirty-two above the peephole. Now just the dark mark of the glue shaped like a three remained.
“Mom!” I called out, pounding with the side of my fist again. “Mom, it’s me!”
We both lived in the same broken-down neighborhood in Meridian City, so walking here took less than ten minutes.
When I moved to town after Damon went off to prison, I could’ve just moved back in with her, I suppose—to combine resources and all—but I didn’t want to, and thankfully, she didn’t ask. She still had a lifestyle that kids could cramp, so…
I needed to talk to her, though. We needed a straight story in case anyone—like Kai—came by to ask about me. Gabriel wasn’t on my birth certificate, and the only other people who knew I was his daughter all worked for him, so my mother was the only weak link. I had to make sure she kept her mouth shut. Kai didn’t need to find out exactly how much leverage he had at his fingertips.
After a minute of no response and no sounds coming from inside, I dug out my stolen key, unlocking the door. Opening it, I took a step in and immediately looked around, taking in the living room in shambles.
“What the hell?” I breathed out, wincing at the smell.
I spotted a man passed out on the couch, one leg hanging off, and closed the door behind me, not worrying about being quiet. He obviously didn’t hear me banging it down a moment ago anyway.
Sticking my keys back in my pocket, I took in the dark, dingy room, the only light coming from whatever was breaching the shades and the tacky, blue velvet curtains. I walked over to the coffee table, sifting through day-old Chinese food containers, cigarettes, and tipped-over beer bottles. I picked up a pipe, the glass clouded from the residue of what had burned inside it. Every muscle tightened as I glared at it, and I shook my head.
Tossing it back down to the table, I glanced at the biker sprawled on the couch with his jeans and belt unfastened. Then, raising my eyes a hair, I glared at the camera sitting on the arm of the sofa. The nice, high-tech kind with an attached microphone.
Fuck her.
Spinning around, I charged for the kitchen table, tipped over one of the chairs, and stomped on one of the legs, breaking it off. Picking it up, I charged down the hallway toward her bedroom, and whipped it open.
The knob slammed into the wall, and I found her with another fucking guy, this one younger and passed out on the bed next to her. Sheets curled around their legs, a lamp laid overturned on the floor, and the rain splattered on the sill from where the window was cracked open. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and the stench of cigarettes hit me like a wave. I fought not to cough.
Turning my eyes right, I spotted the tripod for the camera.
Son of a bitch. I whipped the cane to my right, slamming it into her dresser.
“Get out!” I shouted. “Get the fuck out!”
I pounded the wooden stick again, sending the perfume bottles on her dresser tipping over.
“What the hell?” The man suddenly woke, trying to sit up and rubbing his eyes.
“Get up, asshole!” I raised my foot, stomping it down on the bed. “Get out of here now!”
My mom, her dark hair hanging over one eye, pulled the sheet up and sat up. “What? What’s happening?”
“Shut up,” I growled, raising the stick.
The young guy, probably only a few years older than me, looked at me like he was part terrified and part confused.
Okay, let me be clearer then.
I got in his face. “Get. Out!” I bellowed, my face hot with fire as I whipped the cane against the wall above his head over and over again. “Get the fuck out! Go! Go! Go!”
“What the fuck?” he barked, scrambling off the bed and scurrying for his clothes. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Nik, what are you doing?” I heard my mother ask me, but I ignored her.
I breathed hard. The camera, the men, drugs…fucking slut. I swallowed the bile rising up my throat.
The guy scrambled back into his jeans, grabbing his shoes and swiping his shirt off the chair, and shot me a scowl as he bolted from the room.
My mother quickly slipped into her nightgown and robe, but I followed the guy out, making sure he took his friend.
I saw him hopping on one leg, trying to get his shoes on. “Man, get up!” he whisper-yelled to his buddy.
The other one started to peel himself off the sofa, but I bolted over and grabbed the camera.
“Hey, that’s ours!” the young one shouted. “We paid her! What’s on that is ours!”
But I just stood there, my fist squeezing the cane as I dared them. “Gabriel,” I said slowly. “Torrance.”
They quickly exchanged a look, and I watched as their faces fell. Yeah, that’s right. That name was useful when I needed it to be.
They didn’t know my father couldn’t give a shit less about what my mother did.
“Get out,” I repeated one last time.
They moved slowly, but they moved. They picked up their coats, grabbed their drugs, and walked out the door, the young one shooting me another displeased little scowl before he walked out. “She wasn’t any good anyway,” he spat, his eyes flashing behind me.
They walked out, and I charged over, kicking the door shut right behind them.
Hearing a shuffle behind me, I whipped around, tossing the stick onto the couch.
My mother stood in the living room, having just come out of the hallway, her red silk robe falling mid-thigh, partially covering her pink nightie. She chewed her thumbnail, chin trembling.
“What’s the video camera for?” I asked.
“I needed money.”
“I give you money!”
“That doesn’t even cover rent!”
Her eyes pooled with tears, and I charged over to the couch, tossing off the new pillows she’d bought.
“What about this shit?” I charged, continuing to walk around the living room, sending a wall hanging swinging on its nail and a crystal bowl on the end table wobbling.
I turned around, taking in her fake nails with the French manicure and the spray tan. Gabriel paid me shit, a “woman’s wage” compared to what David, Lev, and Ilia made, and after I paid my rent and the few utilities I had, she got the rest. I somehow managed to live on less! Why couldn’t she? I felt a sob well up in my throat, and I just wanted to fucking strangle her.
“There’s millions of other people in the world and they make it work somehow!” I shouted, charging up and getting in her face.
Everything was fucked, and the walls were closing in. I hated my life. I hated Damon and my father and Kai and everyone. I just wanted to go to sleep for a year. When were things going to be different?
“He was right,” I gritted out, staring at her but seeing only myself. “You’re just a sloppy, junkie whore! What are ya gonna do when no one wants to pay for your tired, old pussy anymore? Your tits are already sagging down to your knees!”
Her hand whipped across my face, and my head slammed right.
I sucked in a breath, my whole body going still.
The burn in my face spread like a snake bite getting deeper and deeper, and I closed my eyes.
Christ . My mother had never hit me before.
I might’ve gotten a few spankings as a kid—I didn’t remember—but she’d never hit me on the face.
Slowly, I turned my head forward again, seeing her staring at me, a world of hurt in her red eyes. She brought her hand up to her mouth, and I didn’t know if she was shocked by what she’d done or sad that this was where we were at.
I dug in my pocket, feeling a tear spill over as I stared at the ground. I took the sixty-four dollars I had on my clip and walked over, dumping it on the coffee table.
“That’s everything,” I said.
Today it was all I was ever going to give her again, I promised myself.
But tomorrow it would be “enough to live on for a few days.”
And next week I’d be back with more.
I always came back. What was I going to do? I didn’t want my mother living on the streets. I still loved her.
Ignoring her soft crying and her head buried in her hands, I opened the front door to leave.
“Do you have money to eat?” she spoke up.
But I just laughed under my breath. “Give yourself a couple hits,” I told her, gesturing to the pipe. “You won’t care anymore.”
Slamming the door, I let out a breath, my chest shaking as I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I am important,” I whispered to myself.
Silent tears streamed down as I forced away all the doubt. Forced away the suspicions that I was being used. No . No, my father needed me more every day. And Damon wasn’t using me, either. He wanted me to be happy. I know he did. And I would be, eventually.
And if I didn’t take care of my mom, who would?
I was needed. I was valuable.
I wouldn’t be thrown away like her. They wouldn’t do that to me. Who was going to do what I did for them?
The camera cracked in my fist, and every muscle in my face ached with a sob, because even I could no longer believe my own words.
Oh, God. I broke into a run as the world in front of me blurred and all the tears started to spill over. I was going to be like her. Months turn into years, and people like me don’t make it out.
She was going to die in that apartment. And I was going to die in this city, just as dumb and uneducated and poor as I was right now.
I raced down the stairs, swinging around the bannister, and bolted out the door.
The cold rain pierced my face like an icicle, a welcome relief from the shit coursing like lava under my skin right now.
I breathed in and out, practically gasping as I bolted down the sidewalk, weaving between pedestrians already on their way to work for the day. I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to get away.
As far away and as fast as I could. Just go and go and go.
So, I ran. I ran, the rain pounding the pavement around me, seeing nothing but feet and legs as I whipped past others and raced across the streets. Horns honked, but I didn’t look up to see if it was because of me.
The rain soaked through my combat boots, not hard since they weren’t tied again, and soon my hat was plastered to my head, heavy with water.
I splashed through puddles, slowly feeling every piece of clothing on me start to stick to my skin. I wiped rain off my face, but the downpour was so thick, I could barely see twenty feet in front of me.
But I didn’t stop. I raced, not giving a shit if there was a cliff or a car about to come through the mist and right for me at any second.
This was all their fault. Michael’s brother got Damon arrested in the first place, and thank God he was dead, or I would’ve done it myself. If it wasn’t for that, Damon would’ve finished college, and we’d be gone.
And then the rest of them…. My brother would’ve taken a bullet for them, and they chose Erika Fane without hesitation. Years of him always having their backs, and they threw him away like it was nothing. They didn’t even fight for him.
I heard a high-pitched sound ring through the air, and I looked up, seeing that I was on the sidewalk crossing the bridge. I turned my weary eyes out onto the water, seeing a tugboat pushing a barge downstream, its foghorn echoing through the storm.
Looking down at the camera in my hand, I raised my fist and launched it out into the river, seeing it disappear into the black water.
I dropped my eyes, shaking my head. That wasn’t true, though, was it? I could see Damon’s side, because I knew how much he was hurting. I knew how he thought.
No one at home loved him. Our father was a tyrant, and his mother…. He was terrorized by her. I groaned at the sickness rising from my stomach, remembering all the things he never meant for me to see in that tower.
All the things she didn’t know I was there to see.
Because of all that, Damon became very possessive of the few good people in his life.
Me, his friends....
Anything that threatened us was immediately an enemy.
That’s why he hated Erika—or Rika, as everyone seemed to call her. He wasn’t right, but I knew where he was coming from, so I could understand it.
But he got himself arrested by fucking around with Winter, a girl he knew was off limits. In more ways than one.
And it was him who went too far last year and had to go into hiding.
If he really wanted us to be on our own, he would’ve taken me with him. Forget his friends. Forget Rika. Just go and both of us get out of here, and we could finally be free.
But that didn’t happen, and I now realized it would never happen.
I bit my bottom lip, trying not to cry anymore. We weren’t ever going to leave, were we? He was using me, too.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I started walking again, trying to hold everything back, but I just couldn’t. I walked and walked and walked, over the bridge, past the old farmer’s market on State Street, and down the dilapidated, empty lanes of Whitehall, and I didn’t cry, but the tears kept spilling anyway as I clenched my teeth together, shivering.
The rain had soaked my clothes, my head was weighted with the drenched hat, and icy coldness covered my skin. I could feel every hair trying to stand up as chills spread across my body.
I finally stopped, my arms hugging myself as my teeth chattered, and looked up.
Sensou
shone in red, an emblem with a maze within a maze next to it and Japanese script in the center. I guess my feet knew where I was supposed to be.
Like a machine. That was me.
With shaking hands, I peeled back my cuff and looked at my watch, seeing that it was eight in the morning. Kai told me last night to be here by nine.
I needed to call David and tell him I didn’t need a ride this morning.
Heading to the front of the dojo, I yanked on the door, but it didn’t give. Locked.
Walking around the side of the building, I entered the dark alley, all the brick buildings around me painted black, even the fire escapes.
Jogging up to the side door, I huddled under the awning and pulled at the door.
But it also didn’t give.
I wrapped my arms around myself again, leaning back against the building.
The cold was seeping down to my bones, and I hung my head, my eyelids falling closed.
My mother was either smoking away what I gave her or buying a new outfit right now. Whatever it took to make herself feel better.
Wouldn’t she just love to see me doing whatever it took to bring in more money? Of course, she’d feel sorry about it, but really, what did she think was going to happen to me when Damon bought me all those years ago? She had asked him what he wanted me for. He simply answered, “Does it matter?”
It didn’t. In a perfect world she wanted to be able to afford to care, but when it came down to it, she had no idea what he could’ve done to me, and the unknown wasn’t enough to stop her from giving me away.
I was what Kai said I was. A tool. Something others used.
My eyes welled up again, and I wiped my cheek with my sleeve.
“Morning.”
I shot my eyes to the right for a quick glance.
Kai’s black pants were covered in raindrops, and he approached, a duffel bag over his shoulder and a folded newspaper over his head. I turned my face away, which I knew must be red and splotchy. I didn’t want him seeing me like this...my street cred and all.
“What…” He stopped at my side, under the awning. “You’re soaking wet. What hap—”
“Don’t ask me any questions, please,” I begged in a quiet voice. “I just got caught in the rain, and I…I’ll be fine.”
I squeezed my fists, trying to warm my hands, but I failed to hold back the shivers.
I hadn’t looked at his face, but I didn’t hear him move for a moment, so I didn’t know what he was doing.
Finally, I heard the door unlock and open.
“Get in here. Come on,” he told me.
He held the door open for me, and I ducked in under his arm, entering the dojo’s kitchen. I could call David and ask him to come, after all, to bring me some clothes. Or maybe there were some extras of those polos the employees wore. I could stick it out in my wet jeans for now.
I bit my lip, shaking, as Kai came in, dropped his bag, and turned on the lights. I glanced up, seeing he was in a white button-down, his chest visible through the wet drops. I just stared at him for a moment. His hair wet and sticking up, looking incredible and beautiful and taking my mind off the cold for a moment.
He came over, handing me a towel, but then he took my other hand, trying to take me somewhere.
I jerked out of his hold.
I didn’t need to be taken care of.
But he turned around, fixing me with a glare. “You don’t want to fight with me right now,” he warned. “Just do as you’re told. You’re good at that.”
And he took my hand again and pulled me after him. I stumbled a step, following him through the kitchen, into the lobby, and down the hall. The whole place was empty and dark, except for the small glow of the lights lining the trim on the bottom of the walls.