Chapter 9 The Dragon’s Reach #2
“Yes, Grandma.”
“If I don't like him, he's got to go. I don’t care what you think of him.”
“I know.”
“You're my only grandbaby. Ain't nothing worse than when a no-good man puts his hooks into a good woman and drains her of all her blessed good energy. Not my grandbaby. I’ll kill him first."
Oh God, Grandma threatening to murder the Dragon. That's. . .actually terrifying for him, not her.
I smirked. “I know.”
“And Grandma don’t have no bail money at the moment—”
“I’ve got bail money for you, Grandma.”
“Talking about you’re on an island and in love.”
I widened my eyes. “Grandma, I didn’t say anything about being in love—”
“I can hear it in your voice. Smiling and upbeat. I have never heard you sound like that. Last time you called you sounded exhausted and bored.”
That's because the last time we talked, I wasn't sleeping with Tokyo's most dangerous and sexiest crime lord.
“Don’t you get too close to this man until I’ve met him.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
"I mean it. I don't care how handsome he is or how much money he got. If he treats you wrong, he's done."
"I know, Grandma. I promise."
"Good." She sighed. "Speaking of Japanese men, we got a bunch that appeared in Charleston a few days back. Many of 'em live right in my neighborhood now."
My blood went cold. “What?”
"Yes, ma'am. Came here and bought up Suzi Mae Jenkins shack for triple the price! Now why did they do that? That place is a trash heap. Suzi Mae took that big check fast and flew straight to the Bahamas. She sent me a picture this morning with her at the bar. In her hand, she got one of those little drinks with the umbrellas in it. Now she too old to be doing all of that. Got some young Bahama man smiling next to her. Younger than her grandson. You know he ain’t got no good sense in his head and going to do everything to help her spend that check. Praise Jesus I told her—”
“But grandma, hold up.” My heart boomed in my ears. “Japanese guys are in the neighborhood?”
“Right across the street. And not bad looking either. Nice suits. Pretty lean, but got some muscles. If grandma were thirty years younger this would be a problem for them. . .not me. You know Grandma was out in those streets back in the day.” She began laughing.
“Hold on, Grandma. Give me one minute.” Terrified, I quickly muted the phone and turned to the guards. "Can you check with Reo? I need to know if he sent men to Charleston to watch over my grandmother."
The guard with the scar nodded and lifted his wrist to his mouth again. "Reo, the Tiger wants to know if men were sent to watch over her grandmother."
A pause hit.
Next, Reo's voice came through, clearer now and more awake. "Yes. I sent ten of our best men to South Carolina. They bought the house across from hers. Their sole purpose is to make sure the Tiger's grandmother is comfortable, at peace, and safe."
My throat tightened.
Ten men.
A whole house.
All to protect one woman who didn't even know she needed protecting.
Reo continued, "Tell the Tiger that there are also people positioned around her mother. And we have additional people in Rikers Island prison in New York, keeping watch over her father."
My breath caught.
My father. . .
I hadn't spoken to him in several years or moreover he hadn’t spoken to me since I wrote that book about him. But hearing that Kenji had people watching him made something complicated twist in my chest.
I hated that I still wondered how my father was doing. Hated that some small part of me wanted to know if he was okay.
"Tell Reo thank you."
The guard relayed the message, and I heard Reo's response. "Tell her she's welcome. And remind her. . .one hour."
Right. The curfew to get back to Kenji's arms.
I unmuted the phone and returned to my call. “Hey, Grandma. Sorry. I’m back.”
“Are you busy, baby?”
“Oh no. I just had to check something. So go back to telling me about the men in the neighborhood.”
“I’m going to find out if some of them are single because they look to be closer to your age—”
“Oh no. I’m good, Grandma—”
“They're so nice, baby. Fixed my fence that's been broken for two months. And they look to be patrolling the neighborhood too, keeping everyone safe at night. Must be a cultural thing. I like it. We need more Japanese people around here with the way these youngins be out here with them guns acting like they’re gangsters when they’re not. "
I headed down the stairs and tried to imagine ten Japanese men in expensive suits patrolling my grandmother's predominantly Black neighborhood in Charleston.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh out loud.
The guards behind me remained silent, but I could feel their presence—steady, professional, and completely unaware of the comedy unfolding in my head.
Oh God.
I could see it so clearly. Mrs. Patterson across the street probably had her curtains pulled back, watching these suited men walk the block at night.
Mr. Johnson—with his old, nosy ass—next door with those stupid binoculars was definitely asking questions.
And the church ladies?
They were probably having an emergency meeting about it right now, speculating over too sweet tea and pound cake.
"They're very respectful," Grandma continued. "I get out the car with my groceries, and they run right over to take them. And from what I’ve seen, they don’t do that for anyone else, so they’ve definitely taken a liking to me.
One of them—sweet young man—said he's going to paint my porch for me tomorrow.
You know I had those cans of white paint sitting out there for a month waiting for No-good Roger to do what he said he'd do.
These boys gonna do it tomorrow. For free. Such nice young men."
I put my hand on my chest because my heart was aching.
My grandma had armed yakuza helping her with groceries and home repairs, and she thought it was just cultural politeness.
It was one thing for Kenji to spoil me, but to spoil my grandma. . .well that would keep me next to him for life.
"Yesterday, I made them some cookies. Chocolate chip pecan. You know, my special recipe that got the sheriff to lower my speeding ticket. I took them right on over there and they was bowing and everything. So much respect. I started bowing too."
My throat tightened with emotion. "I bet they loved those cookies."
"Lord, child, they went crazy over them cookies! Ate every single one right in front me like they hadn't had a home-cooked meal in years. Crumbs was exploding all over the place. Would have put shame to the Cookie Monster himself. He might have gasped at how they were acting.”
I laughed so loud it startled the guards.
“They've got muscles, but they’re still so tiny and skinny for Charleston.
I don't think they're getting enough food, bless their hearts.
So, after they paint that porch, I'm gonna make them up something real nice to eat. A proper southern meal. Get them to sit down and eat right. They order too much food. Delivery people always zipping over there. Bags and bags of fried stuff. No, ma’am.
Can't have them running around doing all this work for Grandma on empty stomachs. "
"That's sweet of you."
"Well, they're sweet boys. Very respectful. And anybody who helps this old woman deserves a good meal."
My chest ached with affection for her—this woman who would adopt an entire yakuza protection detail just because they fixed her fence and carried her groceries.
"Grandma, you've got to snap a picture of them for me and send it."
"Now Nyomi, why would I do that?"
"I'm just. . .intrigued. Maybe when they're painting the porch?"
"We'll see. Maybe. Now let me go, baby, it's too late. I can’t stay up like I used to. Grandma been stressed all day about you. Now I can calm down, turn on the news, and get some sleep.”
“I understand.”
“But I'm so glad my grandbaby is doing okay. Now I thought Tokyo was safe. Didn’t know they was bombing over there. Now you get back to the States soon, you hear?"
"Yes, Grandma."
"And baby, with all that bombing mess, you make sure that island man is treating you right and keeping you safe. If something happened to my grandbaby, I'd have to fly over there and handle it myself. You hear me?"
"Yes, Grandma. I love you."
"Love you too."
The line went dead, and I stood there on the stairs, phone still pressed to my ear, and unable to move.
The guards waited silently behind me, giving me space.
Wow. . .
I lowered the phone slowly and stared at the screen—at Grandma's contact photo, the one I'd taken last Christmas when she was laughing at something my cousin said. Her face lit up with joy, wearing that ridiculous reindeer sweater she loved.
That woman—fierce, protective, full of joy—was being watched over by ten elite yakuza soldiers.
And she had no idea.
She thought they were just nice young men who needed feeding.
A laugh bubbled up in my chest, but it came out broken, tangled with something that felt dangerously close to tears.
I pressed my hand to my mouth.
The scarred guard shifted slightly. "Are you alright?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice yet.
But I wasn't alright.
I was overwhelmed.
Because this—this—was what loving the Dragon meant. It wasn't just silk sheets, dangerous sex, and whispered words in the dark. It wasn't just being claimed, protected, and worshipped.
It was this.
It was Kenji reaching across continents to safeguard people he'd never met. People who didn't even know his name. People whose only connection to him was me.
My grandmother would never know that the "nice young men" across the street were trained killers who would die before letting anything happen to her.
My mother would never know she was being watched.
My father—complicated, distant, broken—would never know that even behind bars, someone was making sure he stayed safe.
Because of me.
Because I mattered to the Dragon.
I started walking again, descending the rest of the stairs slowly, my legs feeling unsteady.
The guards followed, silent and respectful.
When I reached the bottom, I stopped and turned to face them.
All three straightened slightly.
"Could you get a message to the men in Charleston?"
One nodded.
“Okay. Good. Please. . .tell them. . .thank you for helping my grandma out. And if they hurt her feelings by refusing her food, I'll be very upset, so. . .they must eat."
The scarred guard's mouth twitched with an almost smile. "I'll pass that along."
I nodded and turned away, heading toward my office, but my vision blurred. I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.
Not here.
Not in front of the guards.
But inside, my emotions had cracked wide open.
My chest felt too tight, too full.
Gratitude, love, disbelief—all of it tangled together.
Alright. Alright. Relax. You’ve got shit to do before the Dragon wakes up.