Part 53 (1/2)

”You took the girl, that's going a little far, man.”

”What, your j.a.p friend didn't like that I took his woman?”

”I wish that was it, man. You f.u.c.ked up.”

Wes shrugged and looked at him with the same dead eyes as before he'd said it. ”What else is new?”

”That girl's the daughter of some big shot back in j.a.pan. The kind of guy who has little s.h.i.+ts like you killed for looking at his daughter funny.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah, that's what they tell me.”

”I didn't know you were so hip on the j.a.panese crime world.”

”I'm not. But Higa, he f.u.c.kin' flipped after you booked it. Started telling me all kinds of s.h.i.+t. I've been making calls almost nonstop for the past four hours, man. Higa's full of s.h.i.+t, but he wasn't kidding about these guys. They're f.u.c.kin' hard guys.”

”Well...” Wesley shrugged. That news wasn't going to change anything, and he'd been in sc.r.a.pes before. This wasn't going to be that much worse than anything else he'd ever been in, not when it was all said and done. It never was, not really.

”I don't think you're really taking this seriously.”

”Let me take care of that for you, Todd. I'm not.”

”Look. I'm not going to stop you fighting, but you need to learn your G.o.d d.a.m.n lesson, you get me?”

”Whatever you say, Bradley. I need the money, and you're my promoter. You owe me.”

”Look. I can't. Not right now.”

”Then put me in another fight, and make some f.u.c.king money this time.”

”It's not about that. I can't let them think I'm just going easy on you, man. You are in a colossal world of s.h.i.+t here, and I can't have my G.o.dd.a.m.n fingerprints on it, is that clear enough for you?”

”Whatever. So you're not going to pay me?”

Bradley let out a long breath. ”I would, man. I know you need the money. I know. But I can't, not with you being this G.o.dd.a.m.n hot.”

Wes nodded and sucked on his gums while he thought about what to do next. The punch came out of nowhere, and surprising Wesley. He was the one who threw it. He could feel Bradley's soft face crunch under his already-bruised knuckles.

Brad took the hit hard and stumbled back into the desk he'd set up in the center of the room. For an instant he looked angry, and then the anger was replaced with pee-your-pants fear in a flash.

”I'm sorry, man, I can't do anything about it. I don't want to have some crazy f.u.c.ker with a sword comin' by my apartment, f.u.c.kin' up Sheryl's face.”

”I understand, Todd, but I ain't going to let you off easy, either.”

”Just get it over with, then.”

Wes sucked in a breath. He didn't like hitting his friends. He sure as h.e.l.l didn't like getting into fist fights when it wasn't for work. And he didn't like acting like some kind of mob enforcer. He could have done that work if he wanted it. He was fighting for sc.r.a.ps because he didn't.

”Get me another fight, and this time don't bring some snot-nosed little f.u.c.k to the fight with you. You want to tell your j.a.ppo friends you stood up to me? Fine. You called me a very naughty boy, and I won't do it again. Whatever you say.”

Todd let out an unsteady breath and rubbed his jaw where Wes had hit him.

”I'm sorry, man. I know, and I'll have you a fight in a day or two. I'll give you a call as soon as s.h.i.+t cools off, okay?”

”You had better.”

He took in a deep breath and started heading for the door. There was no reason to wait around, not when he'd already sent the message. Todd wasn't going to pay him, and he couldn't. Wes got it, even if he didn't like it. Sometimes you have to play patty-cake with the devil. Wasn't that exactly what the f.u.c.k he was doing here in the first place?

He slid into the piece-of-s.h.i.+t Fiero that technically still spun the wheels when he pushed the gas, which meant it was good enough. A day or two. That wasn't fast enough. Not near fast enough. Bradley was a f.u.c.kin' stick in the mud. If he could have fought every night, then that would have been better.

It would never be enough, of course. There wasn't going to be some kind of mystical 'enough' that made all the problems go away. But three-hundred-sixty-five-thousand a year would have gone a h.e.l.l of a long way in getting him closer.

He twisted the key and the car lit up, roared to life. He pulled out and got moving.

He'd guessed that the guy beside Bradley at that fight was Yakuza, and he'd guessed that the girl was his girl. The only daughter of some big, kick-your-s.h.i.+t-in family, he hadn't guessed. But it wasn't going to be that much worse than any of the other mistakes he'd made yet.

Seven.

Minami Minami was sitting on the floor outside his apartment when she finally saw Wes get back.

”Twice in one night?” His words might have sounded annoyed if not for the joking in his tone. ”My, you are busy.”

He already had the keys in his hand, and pushed them into the lock, then pushed open the door. She got up and headed inside, not waiting for permission. He wasn't the kind of person who was going to give it to her, anyways. She had seen a few of his type before, and she knew without needing to be told that if she was waiting for his permission then she was going to be sleeping in the hall.

She slumped onto the couch and he sat down beside her, their bodies already molding together like they had before. She wanted to sleep, but her body was already reacting to his, already asking her to get into bed with him like a little girl asking her mom to let her go pet the goats at a petting zoo.

Minami's head rolled back to allow Wesley's lips to explore her neck once more, the feeling of his mouth on her sensitive skin sending ripples of pleasure through her that she didn't want to fight against. Some part of her, part of the j.a.panese culture, told her that she shouldn't like it, but she wasn't only j.a.panese. She was an American just as much as she was any part j.a.panese, and the American part wanted him to keep going.

It was the American part that leaned into him, that enjoyed the thought of him bruising her, of his lips leaving little marks that would infuriate her father if he saw them, and she knew he would. Maybe it would infuriate him enough to finally leave her the f.u.c.k alone.

Minami's hand moved between between his legs, where his c.o.c.k was already stirring to hardness after only a few moments of kissing. She traced the thick lines of his shaft through his jeans, pressed her palm against the head and then rubbing up and down the shaft.

The feeling of his hips moving against her hand told her all she needed to know about how well she was doing, begged her to continue. She obliged, her other hand reaching down to work in tandem and the pair of them undoing the buckle of his belt, unb.u.t.toning the fly on his jeans and undoing the zip to free him. Her hands wrapped around his hard flesh, the skin and flesh around the shaft soft wrapped around his hardness.

She let her hands slowly rub up, and then slowly back down, just enough to give him pleasure without giving away too much. She enjoyed the way that his hips s.h.i.+fted in little micro-movements to reach out for pleasure.

”Suck it.”

She smiled, not needing the instruction. She already knew what was happening, already knew where this was going to go. She slid to her knees on the floor, taking the head in her mouth and using her tongue as she went deeper, taking as much as she could into her small mouth. His hands moved to the back of her head, guiding her movements.

It wasn't rough like the first time. He let her take her time, and she rewarded him by taking him deeper with each attempt until her nose was nestled in his pelvis, her throat pressed open for his c.o.c.k. Each further inch brought with it soft groans and curses that sent s.h.i.+vers of pleasure down her spine.