Chapter Fifteen Ren
Chapter Fifteen
Ren
I think I’m in a daze. Or maybe I’ve been hypnotized. I don’t have a single thought in my mind, except that one of my deathbed memories is going to be of Violet leaning back against the fender like she didn’t have a bone in her body.
I just kissed Violet Aratani. Damn if I know what it means but damn if I have the mental capabilities to sort it out now. All I can do right now is bask in the afterglow, even as Violet and her mother rush away from me, while I bite my lip as I think about kissing my way down her neck.
“Hey. You. Hamada.”
I’m so far gone that I almost don’t understand when I glimpse Boser cutting across the grass.
Then he gets close enough for me to see he’s seething like a shaken soda bottle and I’m back inside myself.
Instinctively, my hands gather into fists, and my weight shifts to the balls of my feet.
He notices my posture and slows his pace, coming to a stop only inches away.
The glow of the festival lanterns turns cold in the icy, reflective gleam of his eyes.
Tension spikes between us. He speaks quietly.
“The relic you gave me is fake, a counterfeit. I took it to get it appraised.”
Maybe I should be scared, but I’m not. I hate this guy too much to be scared. I can’t resist. I smile mockingly at him.
“Fake as can be. And you thought it was as precious as the Hope Diamond.” Boser grabs the front of my shirt.
He drags me roughly around the trucks so we’re on the far side of them, away from the festival.
He shoves me hard against the closest truck.
I turn awkwardly to the side, trying to protect my shoulder, pressed against the unrelenting metal.
“I’m the wrong person to cross,” Boser hisses. “Where’s the real one?”
“Don’t have it.”
“It can’t be true.”
“But it is.” A harsh laugh leaves my lips. “I gave it away. Can’t get it back.”
Boser stares at me, hard. I laugh again. He leans in and I think I’ve done it. I’ve pushed him over the edge.
But he just grabs and yanks me around to face the truck, one hand anchored hard between my shoulder blades to pin me in place while the other roughly rifles through my pockets to search for the pendant.
Memories of the cops frisking me rise in lurid flashes.
I jerk free, turn around, ready to slug him if necessary.
He steps back but then speaks tersely, quietly, like we have important business together.
“Get it back. I want a real one.”
“Impossible.”
“No, it isn’t. Until you do, the arrangements I’ve made for your sister will be on hold.
” My body responds on its own. My arm cocks back.
Now he’s the one smiling at me. I’m going to punch him in the mouth and watch his teeth drop like autumn leaves, and I won’t stop until his face isn’t a face anymore.
“Think it through, hotshot. I can do more than cancel your sister’s ambulance ride. I can also have you arrested.”
It takes all my will to lower my fist. Even as I do, it shakes, nerves zinging up and down my arm. I take a long, desperately deep breath, anything to calm down so I can think my way through this, but I can’t even feel the breath.
“Yeah? And how about I contact the Ross family?”
“About that.” There’s too much cunning in Boser’s voice, too much confidence in his smile.
“I called downtown to find out more about you. You were arrested for petty theft, jailed for a few days, got off on a technicality. Now, you just don’t seem like the kind of company a respectable family would keep.
When I rang up Mr. Ross at his country club, he had no clue who you were.
His old lady was writing your family in secret. I reckon those letters will stop now.”
I’m shaking, useless rage writhing through me. It’s all I ever have, all I’m ever left with, and it gets me nothing.
“Get the relic,” he continues. “Until then, no help is coming for your sister.”
With that, he stomps away.
“What’s wrong?” Emi asks, glancing sidelong at me as we walk back to our barrack.
“Nothing. Everything is fine.”
“Nothing my ass.” She’s never been easy to fool. “You look like you could kill a man.”
“I could,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say again.
“Is it her? Violet?” The memory of her sends a sudden, different type of heat through my body, making me feel all twisted up. “If you fought, just say you’re sorry.”
“Naw. We didn’t fight.” I think about Violet against the truck in the moonlight as I kissed my way down her throat. It turns the fire in my veins into liquid. “But wait—if we did, why do you assume I’m the one who needs to apologize?”
“Boys always need to atone,” she says in a sage tone as though she’s offering a universal truth. “I’m glad you didn’t fight, though. Violet seems nice.”
“Yeah, a little too nice.” It’s been a minute since I’ve been able to just walk and talk with Emi. I try to slow the blood beating away drumlike in my ears to savor it.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she might like my attention, but that’s probably it. She wouldn’t ever want…me. And I don’t know if I want to be her dog following her around until she gets tired of me.”
“Oh, Ren. I don’t think she’s that type. I think she’s genuine. You two could run off into the sunset and never read books. I can see it now.”
“Hey, we can’t all be bookworms like you.” It’s nice to talk to Emi. I’ve forgotten how easy it is. “I have to focus on being the muscle, you know? It’s important work, being a physical specimen.”
“A physical specimen? Maybe one that God drew with his left hand.”
“I’m pretty sure God is ambidextrous,” I say, and it makes her laugh. I love hearing it.
“Give Violet a chance. I want you to be happy, Ren.”
“That’s a pretty tall ask.” I wouldn’t know happiness if it slapped me in the face.
“I know. But I’m pregnant, so I automatically get my way.”
“If you’re happy, Emi, then I’m happy. That’s all that matters to me.” She smiles, genuinely touched. “But I just want you to know—you’ll never have to worry. I’m going to make sure you and the baby are taken care of, no matter what.”
“Thank you, Ren,” she says, and her eyes are soft in the moonlight. “I want things to be different for this baby, you know? Different than they were…for us.”
I know exactly what she means. For us, love ends in fleeing to another country to leave your family behind or in glassware hurled at your latest dead-end fling while your kids hide in the closet.
Abandonment or anger, crushing silence or shattering glass.
But I don’t doubt Emi will change that for her baby. She’s strong like that.
“They will be,” I say. “You’re gonna be a great mother, Emi.”
“I hope so.” Her smile returns. “I have plans. I’m going to read to the baby every day so she can grow up on stories.”
“Lucky kid.” I know the baby won’t have a silver spoon in its mouth but damn. If the baby has Emi as a mother, it’s already won. We’ve reached our barrack. “Go on in. I’m going to do something real quick.”
Emi nods and glances at my face. She sighs.
“That look is back.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I could kill a man’ look.”
“Don’t worry,” I say as I help her climb the stairs. “I’m not going to kill a man.”
And I’m not. But if I need to, I’ll kill a god to save her.
I have Mama’s knife in my pocket from when I was carving.
Problem is that it’s a dull-as-hell dining knife meant for buttering toast, but it’s all I have.
I move silently through the noisy camp. Strains of Tanabata music reach my ears, along with laughter.
There’s the distant rumble of trucks, too.
With a start, I notice Akira’s shadow, up in the sky.
It hangs over the camp in a sheet, almost too thin to be seen, but definitely there.
It ripples continuously, like a pebble keeps getting dropped through its watery surface. I shudder.
When I reach Akira’s barrack, I take the knife out. This isn’t the first time I’ve broken and entered, but it’s the first time I don’t feel guilty about it.
I cautiously open the door, step inside, and peer around the tapestry.
Everything is quiet. Oda’s eyes are closed, but the mirror glows an incandescent green, creeping me the hell out.
Akira is sitting up and his eyes are open, which almost gives me a heart attack until I realize he’s in some sort of daze.
His mouth hangs open to where his sharp teeth are visible, and his lids are at half-mast, the vertical slits of his pupils shining through.
The crack on his face now arches onto his forehead, and the slick layer of muscle inside reflects the green light.
The sight is horrifying. Is this how gods sleep?
My fox hangs around his neck. Slowly, I inch my way forward. I hold my breath and step as quietly as possible. Then I reach for the cord.
The same zinging jolt runs up my hand, making me feel every single branching vein. My skin thrums with pain. I clench my teeth and try again. It’s so close. It’s right there. It’s Emi’s salvation.
It doesn’t work.
Desperately, I take the knife from my pocket. Maybe if I use something else to reach for it, it’ll trick whatever magic is protecting it. I extend the blade to see if I can slip it around the leather string.
This time, I see a bright white flash. It’s like I’ve been struck by lightning.
I’m knocked off my feet, onto my ass. Oda awakens and bellows in Japanese, making my ears ring.
I blink and then suddenly Akira is over me.
His hands close around my shirt and he straightens, lifting me up off the floor.
I’m tall but he’s taller, and he lifts me like a rag doll.
I choke, unable to breathe around the noose of my collar, and claw at his wrists, but he’s much too strong.
My feet kick pathetically in the air. He stares at me with no recognition in his eyes.
I have the bizarre and sudden fear that he’ll bite me and devour me like a wolf.