Part 54 (1/2)

The big guy reared his fist back and brought it into Wesley's stomach hard. The guy could hit, Wes had to give him that. The big j.a.panese he'd fought earlier that day would have hit harder, but then again he had technique. He had skill. This guy was just swinging on hopes and dreams, and for that, he was doing a fine job.

But that didn't mean he got away scot-free. Wesley brought his hands down on the guy's shoulders and pushed him back. He braced against it, which is what Wes counted on. He s.h.i.+fted his weight back, sudden and hard, and pulled the guy forward, then brought his knee up to meet the guy's teeth. He went down hard and in a pile.

Wes turned to the guy by his sofa, the guy who seemed to be trying to pool all the blood drooling out of his mouth in one hand for some reason.

”You gonna clean this mess up, or...?”

Nine.

Minami She couldn't avoid her father forever. Minami knew it, and in spite of all that she wasn't exactly looking forward to when she had to go home. It was going to be an ugly affair at best. But that didn't change her sitting in the cab the next morning, her throat just as bruised from where that gigantic oaf had gripped her than the kisses.

She sucked in a breath. Her father hadn't sent those men. If they had, then she would've been unharmed. Even pampered, no doubt, because the first priority in Father's eyes was always the importance of family and loyalty. They'd have had the job of getting her first, getting her out, and then coming back.

The second piece of evidence that her father wasn't involved was that they hadn't been carrying pipes or bats or knives. Something to prove they were serious. Which meant that it was likely Higa trying to cover up his mistake. By itself, that was laughable.

It was clear that whether he'd come to the s.h.i.+mizu chairman like a man, or he hadn't, there was no question that she wasn't still out with Higa. If he was going to try to reclaim her, or insist that he'd dealt with the situation, and only send around a few unarmed men, he still had a lot to learn about the s.h.i.+mizu.

She stepped out of the taxi again. He'd be busy, now. Or, more than likely, pa.s.sed out. The work day in Father's line of work rarely started before 9 P.M., and he'd had a late night waiting up for her.

The noise of the floors wasn't nearly so amplified in the light of day, but she skipped the noisy steps as much as she could anyways.

Her parents' room was closed. She made her way into her own, checking carefully to make sure she wasn't in for another nasty surprise before stepping fully inside and dropping her clutch on the desk. It landed with a soft *thud.*

She had slept, but it was fitful and brief, and in the end she was still exhausted. Minami took her dress off and threw it away. It was ruined before the fight had started, and now it looked like little more than rags. Oh, well. If she needed to replace it-and she didn't-she didn't lack for money now that her parents had moved into the area and insisted on her moving back in with them. 'For the family's image,' supposedly.

Minami wondered what it said for their image that the s.h.i.+mizu clan chairman hadn't been back in j.a.pan for the better part of a month, and wasn't going back for another several days. And then it would be a short trip, because he insisted that he had to insert himself in his daughter's life.

Minami sighed and laid her head down on her pillow, got good and comfortable in the bed, and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

She was awoken by the a knock at the door. She opened her eyes and slowly pushed herself up to open it, only to find that it was already open. Her father stood in one of his nicer suits and that usual stony expression on his face that never seemed to vary-except when he was angry.

”Minami?”

”Yes?”

”We're going to go meet with Higa's parents. They're a small family, there shouldn't be much of an apology involved. Especially since, Majima tells me that he took you-to a parking lot?”

”An underground fight.”

Her father had practiced, for years, the art of not responding to things. It was important not to overreact to any news when you work in the Yakuza. People take things much more harshly than they might in everyday life.

For Minami, though, his faces were easy to read. Subtle, but she knew each one well. He pinched his lips together in a way that told her that he disapproved of the idea. He was likely reconsidering the entire idea of an apology, but he would still go through with it in either case.

”Are you alright?”

”I'm fine,” she said, softly.

Her father nodded gravely, and then turned and he was gone. Minami let out a breath. He'd calmed down more than she would have imagined. Whatever had happened, she wasn't going to question it, but that didn't mean that it wasn't going to come down on her head. She took a breath and laid back on her bed, now fully awake.

It was constant uncertainty with her father, never knowing what was going to set him off, and never knowing what was going to set him right again. Everything was pride and honor and face with his life. With a family so large.

It was doubly ironic that the s.h.i.+mizu family was so large, when the head had only one child. The people around the house, of course, were not afraid to discuss the rumors that it wasn't for a lack of trying, but that the Chairman's second wife was infertile. They wouldn't have discussed it if they knew Minami was listening, but that was easy to avoid when she wanted to know the juiciest gossip.

With Minami's 'real' mother being murdered when Minami was only a baby, she had been raised thinking of Aki as her mother. It was almost a surprise to learn the woman wasn't her mother, but then again it changed nothing. Aki was her mother, whether or not she gave birth to her.

Minami pushed her blanket off and dressed slowly. Her door was closed, but it mattered surprisingly little. As many men as there were in the house, and as much as she couldn't have trusted them around any of her girlfriends, Minami was so far off-limits as to be in an entirely different galaxy. They wouldn't dream of trying to peep, because even if they caught an accidental glimpse, if they were caught doing it, the punishment would... well, it certainly wouldn't match the crime, that much was certain.

Minami shrugged on a s.h.i.+rt and pair of shorts that showed off her long, slender legs. Comfort was king, particularly after such a long day. Tonight her father was going to speak to Higa, and that meant that there was a good chance he got the whole story. Which had further implications, she knew. There was no way that he was going to hear about the story and then not find out about Wesley.

She realized at that moment she needed to make her decision between the two of them. It wasn't a hard decision to make.

Wesley was a stranger. A stranger with a great c.o.c.k, and the right know-how to use it. But whether or not she approved of the world her father came from, he was her father nonetheless.

At least, it shouldn't have been a difficult choice. But then, how many more times would she be in this situation? Somewhere where some man takes her away because some arranged-marriage candidate brings her into some place she shouldn't ever have gone in the first place?

She knew better than to think it would happen again. Her father would take precautions against that. No doubt he was fuming, right now, and the conversation would only go as well as they let it go, by letting him fume silently.

If Higa spoke up, though, it wouldn't take long for his frustrations to become known, and then all bets were off. She almost couldn't help smiling a the thought of the noodle-thin twerp getting his just desserts.

The smile faded when she thought of what would happen to Wes.

Ten.

Wes ”I can't send any money this week.”

Wesley didn't like saying the words. When they answered 'we understand,' it was like he was being hit in the gut. Because as far as he could tell, she understood. She wasn't angry or upset or hurt by it. Nothing like that.

She knew that it wasn't going to happen and understood that that happened sometimes. Wesley's head pounded in frustration. What was the G.o.d d.a.m.ned point if it didn't matter when he didn't come through?

He already knew the answer, as he said his goodbyes and hung up the phone. It mattered. It was the difference between eating and starving. It was important that they had that money. They were just children. They needed the food.

But they weren't angry, hurt, even disappointed. They understood. Wesley didn't deserve that kind of approval or appreciation.

Why hadn't she screamed at him? Told him how he was a piece of s.h.i.+t for not coming through for people who were expecting him to make it work for them? But no. Instead, they understood.

Wes stopped himself slipping the phone into his pocket and pulled up the dialer. He jabbed Todd Bradley's name on the contact list and pressed the little green phone icon.

He picked up after 3 rings.