14. A Soul Food Battle to the Death #2
I caught the tail end of a low, muttered “Hmph,” behind me, but no one owned it.
Are they really serious?
However, Kaede made a sharp sound—leather tugging tight as he adjusted his gloves.
The gesture was pointed.
Precise.
Pissed.
Hiro wagged his lollipop at me. “We have eaten your chef’s food many times. We have not had hers .”
“Smells like betrayal to me,” Toma muttered. “I would have killed a man for a bite of those yams. Glazed in warm bourbon butter? They sounded good.”
I looked back at him.
Toma went silent.
However, probably feeling bold the twins tilted their heads in perfect unison.
One whispered, “Macaroni.”
The other, “And cheese.”
I didn’t know which one spoke first, but they both annoyed me. Rolling my eyes, I returned my gaze to the front. “We are not talking about this right now.”
Hiro continued, “I asked every Fang just to make sure that I was hearing this all correctly. Do you know what I discovered?”
“I don’t care.”
“Not one box had my name on it. No cute little flower. Nothing. It would have been nice to know what symbol she would have drawn for me. And, I’m told that she has pretty handwriting.”
“No one forgot about the Claws or you—”
“But, food for your Eyes? Your EYES? Seriously? They do nothing, but watch breasts bob, cunts squirt, and you cum. They have the easy life. We risk our lives for you. We shed blood.”
Daisuke coughed into his fist. The timing was too perfectly petty to be coincidence.
I didn’t turn around, but I could feel the weight of their gazes pressing into my back. It was clear they would not let this stupid thing go unless I explained.
I growled, “Listen and I will only say this fucking once. There was no intentional slight to any of you. She made boxes for the people that were there. That’s it. There are no favorites. She happened to have left-over food and decided to give it to the men who were at the club.”
“Have you not told her about the importance of your Claws?”
I glared at him. “I have.”
“Yet.” Hiro looked over his shoulder. “None of them received even a small gesture. A cookie. A cupcake. Dare I say. . .a lollipop.”
“There were no cookies or cupcakes.”
“That may be true, but I am not pleased.” Hiro gestured behind him. “ They are not pleased.”
There was a rustle of jackets and shifting shoulders.
Sighing, I checked the Claws behind us.
They all frowned my way.
I grumbled. “None of this matters. When the sun hits the sky, my rule is in place. No one eats my Tiger’s food. However, my chef can make you all a special—”
“Oh yes. The rule. I was told about this rule.” Hiro scowled.
“Who told you?”
“Reo. He should have been sleeping but instead he was shoveling macaroni and cheese into his mouth with chopsticks just to not break the upcoming rule. That’s how good the food was. It was outrageous.”
“Him eating after surgery?”
“No. Your rule. It’s unacceptable. Therefore, I want you to hear this straight from me.” With that Hiro placed the lollipop back in his mouth and huffed. “The Claws and I are breaking that rule.”
“You all break that rule and I will personally break your legs.”
“Then, we shall fight after breakfast.”
“What?”
“If she can make you all dinner, then surely she can make us all breakfast.”
“My Tiger is not making anyone breakfast.”
“Then, we will fight.”
To my shock, Toma muttered, “I don’t need breakfast, but I do need vengeance. And maybe some of that cornbread that they said was drizzled in hot honey.”
“We already have a war to win.” I glared at him. “We will not shift our focus to a damned battle over macaroni and cheese.”
Hiro remained quiet which told me he had not only made his final decision, but he would be plotting to get my Tiger in the kitchen as soon as possible.
And against all logic, amusement broke through my exasperation.
Shaking my head, I returned my gaze to the path.
Hiro spoke, "You suspect your Tiger’s guards of being the traitors that got Reo hurt?”
“I’m not sure if it was all of them, but I am suspecting Watari.”
“Why?"
"She caught him looking at her notebook while she was researching jazz bands for our date. Watari kept going in and out of the house and when she caught him looking, he made some comment about her great taste in music."
“She knew his name?”
“No. She gave his description and that’s how I knew.”
"She’s sharp?"
"Sharper than any blade I own."
“Good. She’ll need that if she is going to join our family.”
I blinked.
Hiro had said that like she would belong to all of them too.
I hadn’t thought of it like that.
I knew I planned to possess her. That part was never in question. I wanted her in my house. In my bed. On my side. I wanted to protect her, surround her, keep her. But I hadn’t stopped to think about how that would also mean. . .she would be joining my family too.
My inner circle.
Which meant that they may want to look to her for guidance on me. Perhaps, they would even expect things from her. Maybe even feel entitled to parts of her I wasn’t ready to give up.
Her attention.
Her care.
Her presence.
In fact, that was already starting. With this whole topic of the bento boxes, the Claws were practically marching down this hill like I personally betrayed them.
Annoyance surged through my veins.
I didn’t want to share her.
Not her time.
Not her laughter.
Not her cooking.
I knew how it felt to be seen by her, and I didn’t want anyone else having that. Even the idea of her handwriting showing up on someone else’s lunch container made my jaw tight.
She was mine.
But if she was to be my Queen, then. . .she would be a part of the Dragon and all that came with that massive body of men.
And I wasn’t sure I was ready for all that.
Hiro yanked me out of my thoughts. "I know you trust Hiroko, but I did my own test with her assistants and her just in case."
“And what did you think?”
He kept walking, unfazed. "They passed."
Relief cracked through me.
Just slightly.
Because Hiro’s tests weren’t just questions. They were silent dissections. Breath counts. Pulse checks. Eye flicks and micro-muscle twitches. He was a human lie detector, built from trauma and brilliance, and when he said someone passed. . .it was truth.
“Good.” I checked my watch. "We have two hours before the bombs drop. Let’s make sure all traitors are found and get rid of them."
“Can I help with the torture?”
I glanced at that butcher knife. “Of course. You clearly need to get out some aggression.”
“Then, who will you be tonight? Good cop or bad cop?"
A slow sneer crept across my face. "We’re both bad cops tonight, brother."
Another scream echoed through the mist.
This one gurgled.
A last breath being death.
As we came near, the gravel gave way to moss-covered stone. Lights flickered low along the path—red and gold lanterns with kanji etched into the paper.
Ahead, the gate waited. Torii arch. Black iron. Gold trim. Bamboo curving behind.
The wind picked up.
The screams were closer now along with the sound of bamboo creaking.
We turned down the final curve in the path, and the night deepened around us.
To our right, the koi pond stood. Its black surface mirrored the moonlight, broken only by orange fins stirring the water in brief flashes.
A bullfrog croaked once among the tortured men’s wails.
My bamboo greenhouse emerged from the darkness, glowing faintly beneath the moon’s gaze. Its glass walls shimmered. The roof arched low and elegant, the door faced us directly now.
But something was wrong.
My heart pounded.
The door was wide open.
And there were no guards posted outside as usual.
What the fuck?
Behind the bamboo’s swaying shadows, I caught movement like someone was ducking.
I pulled out my guns. “Hiro.”
He didn’t wait for the order.
Just flicked his wrist.
Three Claws surged forward, weapons raised, cutting ahead of us without a word.
Then—gunfire.
Sudden.
Loud.
Close.
Muzzle flashes lit the greenhouse from inside. The bark of bullets shattered glass. Footsteps thundered. Shadows moved inside the bamboo room.
Men were running.
And they weren’t running toward us.
They were trying to get away.
Fuck that.
We all charged forward.