Part 55 (1/2)
But she couldn't get him out of her head. It wasn't the s.e.x, though that had been more than a bit better than previous lovers. Something about having a man who knew what he wanted only served to draw sharp lines of contrast to the boys who had wanted to pander to her and complain about their stupid problems.
She didn't have time for that sort of man. But with Wesley, she felt something else, as well. Something that almost bordered on... pity? As if seeing him crushed beneath the boot of the s.h.i.+mizu clan was beneath him. Like a b.u.t.terfly killed by getting hit by a car. Ruining something beautiful that never deserved it.
'Never deserved it' seemed like an incredibly odd description for Wesley. He gave every impression of deserving the worst anyone could give him, and he didn't seem like the kind who cared much about what people did to him either, for that matter.
But more than that, the thought kept ringing in her head that he was more than that. Was he a bare-knuckle fighter? Sure. Was he a thug? Almost certainly.
But he wasn't afraid of the s.h.i.+mizu. Whether it was through ignorance or arrogance didn't matter. n.o.body could have looked at Takuya Higa and had any doubts about his underground affiliations. He wasn't big or imposing, but he dressed so much like a Yakuza that even the most oblivious could pick up on it without much trouble.
Yet, even with that being the case, he'd dared Higa to try to stop him, and then he'd walked off with her. The entire situation almost felt magical, because it was so close to what she really wanted. Someone to take her away, not from a bad date, but from the world that she kept getting sucked up in.
If it was only her, and she had to convince her father that she should be allowed to leave the world that he'd built up an empire in, then there was no way that it would happen.
But if Wesley did it, if he really managed to get her out, then... she blinked the thought away. That sort of thinking was dangerous. Too dangerous. She could be in serious trouble, thinking things like that. Or she could get what she'd come all the way to America to get, once and for all.
Peace.
She picked up her wallet and slipped it into the pocket of her shorts, the pocket that was just barely large enough to contain it. Her phone stayed in her hand.
She'd have to find a driver, and if Father was away 'smoothing things over' with the Higa family, then Majima was going to be out.
The first person she came across bowed deep and greeted her reverently.
”Young mistress!”
”I need a ride,” she said. Better to be up-front with it.
”Yes, young mistress.”
He rose back up and she followed him into the garage. Three cars seemed like overkill, but they had four, just to be safe. She slipped into the back seat and he turned on the engine.
”Where are you going?”
She tried to figure where she could be gone a few hours, near his apartment. It would be better if she could have an excuse for having been gone, and it would be much better if her father didn't find out where she'd been. Not where she'd really been, anyways.
”The library, please.”
”Yes, young mistress.”
He started driving. ”Not the downtown one-just... I'll give you directions.”
He wasn't going to know the city's layout well. The man was a pickpocket first, a driver second. But with Majima out, she had to take who she could get.
”Shall I wait for you here, young mistress?”
”No, I'll be a few hours. I'll call Father to have Majima come and get me when I'm finished.”
He looked nervous at the idea of leaving her alone. Father wasn't the sort to forgive a mistake like that, but she had no patience for it.
”I want to have time to myself. Father will understand.”
”Yes, young mistress.”
She watched the car pull away before heading for the door, stepping inside, and getting a sip of water from the fountain just inside.
Satisfied that he was gone, she stepped back outside and started heading down the street. She had to get to Wesley's apartment, and she had to get there before more of Higa's boys came around. Or, worse, before her father rounded up enough men to make an attempt on the place, because then, it would be too late for Wesley to take her away from anything.
She took the elevator up and stepped out. The floors no doubt all looked the same, but she was fairly certain that she was in the right place. Wes opened after a moment when she knocked.
”h.e.l.lo,” she said, as he stood there, speechless.
He stepped back away from the door and turned back. He hadn't, apparently, bothered to put on a s.h.i.+rt today, because he answered the door with all his muscles on display. His back stretched wide even as he walked, relaxed, away, drawing a sharp v-shape to his slender waist.
”Good morning,” he called back.
”It's afternoon.”
”That's fine,” he said dimly. ”Did you need something?”
”I thought we could get something to eat.”
”Oh, yeah?”
”If you're not interested-”
”Well, I just had to pay the rent, so...”
”It's my treat, then,” she said, smiling. If it cost her a few dollars to get him to trust her, she would gladly pay that price to secure her future away from her father. She had a little money put away from the job she'd been told, point blank, to quit when Father decided to relocate to America.
Minami hadn't needed it before now, so it had sat there in her bank account. Now it seemed to make good sense that she shouldn't spend Father's money. He'd know that she'd eaten with someone else when he saw the charges on the bill, and then it would be a hop, skip, and a jump to figuring her whole plan out.
The longer that she could pretend that she had nothing to do with Wesley, the longer that she could avoid the consequences that were going to fall on his head, and the more likely that he'd be able to get her out. Until then, she'd keep him as quiet as she could keep him, because a secret weapon only worked when it was a secret.
Twelve.
Wes Wes looked down at the girl laid beside him, pushed himself up, and checked the time on his phone. A little past one meant it was time to go. He rolled out of bed and rose to his feet, dressed, and headed out. For a moment he considered taking the roll of quarters, but the notion of breaking his fingers wasn't one that he was looking forward to, and if things turned ugly, he could probably manage unless they decided to pull a gun.
If they did that, it didn't much matter what he brought with him, because guns weren't the sort of thing he was prepared to deal with.
The drive out was easy, if not quick. Ten minutes outside of the city and somehow they'd managed to find a G.o.dd.a.m.n wheat field. He'd wonder if they even had those so close to the city if he hadn't just found it on his phone G.P.S.
He pulled off next to the other cars and turned off the engine, looked in the mirror and got himself settled. Ten minutes to showtime, but there was no reason not to be early.