Chapter Six #2
After the guy spits out the code, River advises him not to call the police, and then we get into the elevator. He taps the numbers, and we start our ascent. He’s panting like a bull, all tense and ready to use his horns.
“Bunny, I’m usually all over this killing vibe, but I don’t want to start a war with the Italian mafia over nothing. That said, if he hurt your little brother, I’ll skewer his balls and use them to make a bow over his head.”
He just looks at me with candid eyes, they tell me all I need to know. He’s worried and angry, but most of all anxious to see Joel after all these years.
As soon as the elevator doors slide open, he storms out—gun in hand at his side.
I have my fingers wrapped around my sword and the sheath in the other hand.
River sees the camera near the apartment door and hurriedly lets his hair fall over the scarred side of his face.
I hate the fact that he feels the need to cover himself.
Does he think his brother won’t accept him? If he doesn’t, I’ll scar Joel’s face. Problem solved. The sound of the doorbell resounds in the empty corridor. River pushes the button again and again until the door is yanked open.
There are two people on the other side, and I know straight away which is Joel.
I’ve seen an old picture of his face once, one the PI took back in Boston.
But I didn’t expect him to be so tiny. The brawny guy behind him must be Marco Moretti.
He’s sending us a murderous glare, keeping his gun aimed at River while his arm is around Joel, holding him against his chest.
“Lil’ bro,” River whispers with his eyes glued to Joel.
“River?” he asks with a voice filled with emotion after staring at him for a long moment.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“You…you were dead.” Tears roll down Joel’s delicate face.
River takes a step forward but immediately stops when he sees the gun Moretti is still pointing at him.
“Hey, lower that thing before I slice your hand off.” I address the mafioso with my most threatening tone and a hint of an evil smile.
“You’ll be dead before your next breath, Bruce Lee,” he replies with a raspy voice, moving his gun toward me. River quickly moves to shield me—sometimes I wonder if he sees himself as my personal bullet vest. His gun is directed at Moretti’s face.
“Bruce Lee was Chinese; I’m Japanese,” I retort with a sniff, leaning to the left to glower at the ignorant asshole.
“Same thing!”
White fucking trash! “You know that China and Japan are two different countries.”
“I don’t fucking care!” Moretti is doing the same protective act with Joel, attempting to push him behind him.
“Marco, stop it! That’s River.” Joel elbows him, shoving the hand holding the gun down.
“How do you know it’s him, amore mio? It’s been years!” Moretti reminds him.
“I just know!”
“And I know who you are. Does the word metal pipe refresh your memory?” River suddenly growls. I don’t understand what he’s saying, but the mobster seems to get it. “That night you killed my father. Are you with Joel to finish the job? Stay away from him!”
“No, you don’t understand, I’m the one who looked for Marco. And that night, he saved us,” Joel exclaims, trying to move away from the mobster to go to River with no luck.
“Let. Him. Go,” I order Moretti, while moving away from River’s shielding body. I’m ready to jump on him ninja style if I have to.
“He’s mine,” the mafioso states with a rumbly voice. Ooooooh.
“What?” River snaps, taking another bellicose step toward them when I suddenly hear footsteps behind us.
I quickly spin and find myself face to face with an armed giant.
I can still have the upper hand if I use my agility and swiftness against his heaviness.
I hit the hand brandishing the knife with the sheath of my sword, kick his ankle and inner thigh and am about to impale him with my sword when he swings his blade at me, missing my eye by an inch.
I quickly swat his arm with the handle of my sword and spin under his arm, and then I hear River’s battle growl before he slams the giant into the wall. Grabbing him by the throat, River is using his entire weight to pin him down.
“Try to hurt him again, and you are dead!” River shouts, gun to the fucker’s head.
“He attacked me first! Now get off me before I castrate you,” the giant replies, and only then I notice the knife pressing to River’s groin.
“I’ll fucking turn you to ash if you damage the beads,” I hiss, preparing to cut his arm off if he tries anything.
“The what?”
“Aki!” River hisses.
“Luca, that’s my brother!” Joel tells the giant.
“The Asian dude?”
Another idiot thug. Wonderful!
“No! The one pointing a gun to your head.” Joel sounds exasperated now. “Just…everybody lower your weapons.”
The fuck I will, but of course River listens to his brother straight away, taking a couple of steps back. How dare he follow someone else’s order. I’m beyond pissed now.
The elevator opens, and I smirk at the sight in front of me. Yuna and Karin are forcing two men into the corridor with their guns pointed at their heads.
“Are those your guys?” I taunt Marco.
“For the love of god, River, are they with you? Could you tell them to…retreat?” Joel sounds a little exasperated.
I turn to my girls, and in Japanese, I order them to back down and wait in the corridor.
“You are Fly’s brother? Resurrected?” Luca asks, and River nods as I stomp back into the apartment again.
Fly. Oh, that’s the name Joel likes to be called. I remember seeing it in one of the PI’s files he sent to River a while back.
“I thought you were here to kill us. Coming uninvited, packing, with one of the extras from Mad Max…no offense.” Luca turns to me.
“Offense fucking taken! You look like a white Thanos,” I counter bitterly, grimly sheathing my sword.
“Who?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, then say with a smirk, “Prefer Harry Potter because of the scar on your face?”
“Tell me your name, so I know exactly who I am about to stab in the heart.”
“Akira Hebikawa. Should I spell it for you or carve it on your forehead?” I outstretch my hand toward River, silently asking for his knife.
“Hebikawa, the head of the five yakuza families?” Moretti is looking at me with wary eyes…warier than before.
“That’s my aunt,” I clarify.
“Another pampered prince,” Luca mutters with disdain. What’s his fucking problem?
I’m about to reply with a sneering comment when River beats me to it, “One more word, and you’ll miss your tongue.”
Dammit to hell, but he’s so sexy when he turns all growly and bloodthirsty. How did I not feel this attraction before?
“Enough! Nobody is getting hurt here,” Joel suddenly screams. “It’s like dealing with demonic preschoolers.”
“Butterfly…” Moretti starts to say, but Joel twists his body in the mafioso’s arms until he’s facing him, and they start whispering.
The tension hanging in the air is so thick, I could cut it with my katana. River’s eyes are laser-focused on his brother, who’s cupping Moretti’s face. They look pretty cozy.
“He seems more than fine,” I tell him, trying to make him see that his brother has two big burly men at his service.
Ohhh, naughty Joel. He looks tiny and cute, the opposite of River’s rugged, muscular sex appeal.
But that same adorable line appears between their eyes when they are irked, and they have the same arched brow shape and scolding tone.
River’s gaze goes to Luca, who’s moving toward the French windows to light a smoke. The mustard yellow tie he’s wearing has a tiger on the front. I like it, but I’ll never tell him that.
“What is a yakuza prince doing here?” he asks with disdain.
I rest my still aching tushy on the backrest of the wide sofa. I might look relaxed, but I’m still alert.
“River is my…right-hand man,” I say simply.
“You work for the Japanese mafia?” Joel asks his brother.
“Yes. He is one of us,” I reply. I don’t fucking care what anybody else thinks.
Joel runs a hand through his long blond hair, looking all confused and upset. Shouldn’t he be happy to see his brother?
“I thought you were…dead. What happened?”
River opens his mouth and then closes it. Knowing he needs a little nudge, I push off the sofa and lift my hand to his face. He winces back. I’ve only ever seen that much emotion swirling in his eyes the time I got shot a couple of years back and he took me to the hospital.
My fingers card through the loose hair on his side, pushing it back and revealing the severity of his scars.
I hear Luca grunt, then a gasp coming from Joel, and I’m ready to turn Mad Dog on his ass if he dares hurt River. But I’m abruptly pushed to the side as he’s tightly embraced in a big, loving, brotherly hug.
His hand goes to River’s face, trembling fingers quickly moving over the unblemished right side, like he’s studying him with his touch–remembering him from when he couldn’t see.
“It’s really you!” Joel starts sobbing like an infant, and I see actual tears falling silently down River’s cheeks.
I don’t like this instant connection between them.
And all this mushiness is killing my mood.
But the relief I’m witnessing on River’s face stops my bitchy reaction. I can let them be… for a few seconds.
I look around the living room. The place is not bad. Modern and chic, with a large kitchen and a nice view of Manhattan from the balcony.
“Mad dog,” Luca says, pointing his finger at me.
“My reputation precedes me again.” I smirk, heading toward him. “And you are?”
“Luca Nero.”
“Scarface Nero.” The nickname I’ve heard before pops into my head. As soon as I say it out loud, his whole body stiffens and he lets out a furious grrr. “I agree. That’s a shitty name. You’re a damn gangster, can’t you fucking change it?”
He shows me his teeth and then turns toward the view. Another silent type.
“What’s with him?” I ask, tilting my chin toward Moretti, who’s staring intently at the two brothers now smiling and talking.