Sweet Seduction Sayonara (18 page)

Before I even get the taser halfway toward his body, he spins, lifts an arm, and slices it through the air. The taser goes flying, his shoe comes ‘round after it. I swear I hear the crack of my ribs. And then he’s punching and kicking and slicing and jabbing, and all I’m doing is covering my face and head and as much of my body as I can manage.

It lasts seconds but feels like hours. And in the end, I’m curled up in the gutter and this time his spit hits its target. The side of my pounding head.

He straightens his sleeves, adjusts his jacket, and then walks back inside his house.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the brightening sky, feeling every ache and bruise in my body. But none of it hurts as much as my pride.

I let out a pain-filled sound as I crawl to my feet. And then grit my teeth as I turn and face Tadashi’s house.

Let him think he’s won. Let him think I’m beaten. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know my life.

I’m a fucking good lawyer.

I have fucking good friends.

And I never back down.

T
he wheels
on our Ducatis squeal as they roll in under the garage door at ASI. The purr of Charlie’s Diavel sounds like a roar as the garage door slowly comes down behind us. I watch as she manoeuvres her bike into the far corner, directly under a camera lens and behind a black van Eric uses for surveillance. It’s not our usual spot, so I know she’s up to something immediately.

Charlie up to something is a beautiful thing.

I roll my Monster to a stop beside her bike, and watch as she takes her helmet off and shakes out her messy head of dirty blonde hair. Charlie doesn’t give a fuck about how she looks, but then when you look supermodel gorgeous without even trying, you tend to take it all for granted.

I sure as hell don’t. I worship her beauty daily.

She places the helmet on her petrol tank and then lifts a long leather clad leg up and over the back of the bike. Fuck! I could stare at her arse all day doing that. She flicks an eye up into the corner of the garage, where the camera dome sits, and then folds her arms over her chest, cocks a hip, and stares at me. Waiting.

I smirk, remove my helmet slowly, and then my gloves, one finger at a time, and finally get off the bike, unzipping my jacket. Her eyes trail down the contours of my black t-shirt as it hugs my body. I wore it just because I know Charlie salivates over my muscles. I have the ridiculous urge to flex them. To show her I’m exactly what she wants.

But it’s easy to forget that Charlie sees everything. She does it so effortlessly. A small smirk graces her lips as she reaches out and places a single finger inside my pants, then hauls me slowly toward her.

“Hey, firecracker,” I murmur. “We’ll be late for Nick’s meeting.”

“Koki and Brook aren’t here yet, there’s time.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Time for what, Mrs Savill?”

“Time for this,” she says and promptly goes to her knees before me.

Sweet fucking Jesus, this woman always manages to surprise me. We’ve just had a quickie while Paul was napping this morning, hot and sweaty against the fucking washing machine as it shuddered its way through a spin cycle, and here she is hot to trot all over again.

“Charlie,” I say, sounding a little too much like I’m in fucking awe.

And maybe I am. It’s been a perpetual awe fest since I met this woman. And since she asked me to marry her, I haven’t stopped being totally wonderstruck.

My zip comes down and her hot little hand slips into my boxers and pulls out my already so-happy-to-see-you dick. She pumps it a few times and looks up at me from under lowered eyelids. I reach out and cup her cheek, stare into those sultry grey eyes and get lost a little, and then she leans forward and flicks out her tongue around the tip.

I let out a groan, needing something to lean back against, but if I lean against the bikes, they’d likely topple. And wouldn’t that catch Amber’s or Eric’s attention inside control? I flick a glance up at the camera again, not sure if we’re quite out of its field of vision.

Charlie lets out a low, sexy chuckle, drawing my attention back down to her and not the ceiling. Once she knows I’m watching avidly, she dips her head, and slowly stretches her lips wide over the crown of my cock, and then lowers her mouth down the length of it.

“Fuck!” I mutter, spreading my legs in the vain hope they’ll keep from collapsing.

She hums around my shaft, sending shooting sparks right into the base of my spine. I moan, she sucks even harder, then her free hand comes up and squeezes my balls.

It’s several seconds or maybe minutes, fucked if I know, of unadulterated bliss, as Charlie fondles and sucks and nibbles and squeezes and brings me to the edge and then backs off again. Time and time again. I’m sweating and I might even be begging and my hands are wrapped up in her hair now and I’m thrusting and bumping into her mouth and it’s pure heaven. I stare down, in the middle of it all, at the way my cock slides inside and almost pulls out to the tip, and watch in complete fascination as Charlie greedily sucks it back in again.

It’s a moment out of time that will remain etched into my memory for eternity.

I think I’m growling. Or grunting. But I know I’m fucking her mouth and she’s gobbling up every inch I give her, begging for more. She’s dirty sexy and wicked naughty and totally fucking out of this world full of life.

I never tire of Charlie’s adventurous streak. Of her ability to take a moment and use it to its fullest. To live in that moment and never look back. Just that split second, that fraction of an instant, that’s all it takes for Charlie to bring me to my knees.

I never want to stop being awestruck by this girl. I never want to stop racing with her to the next big moment. The next utterly sensational second. The next blissful connection and release.

I’m embarrassed to say, I come so hard I see spots before my eyes, can’t hear a fucking thing, and my legs do indeed feel like jelly. I stagger. Charlie’s lips slip off the end of my cock with a pop I can’t really hear, and then she’s guiding me to the wall beneath the dome camera and letting me lean against it as the world keeps spinning all around me and my heart thumps an erratic rhythm as accompaniment.

I hear the garage door opening again, rolling up with a clank and rattle. The sound of a luxury vehicle entering suggests it’s not Koki or Brook, but someone else. I don’t care. I grab my wife and haul her against my chest and kiss the ever loving crap out of her.

The car parks, I distractedly hear the engine purr a different tune, and then it’s just the click of it cooling and the sound of Charlie’s breathing, and this moment. Here. Now. Us.

“Fuck, Charlie,” I say against her lips. “I’m crazy in love with you, firecracker. But I gotta ask, what’s so special ‘bout today, that I get my jollies twice in as many hours?”

She arches her brow at me, but doesn’t pull away. She’s leaning against the length of my body, as I lean against the wall, and her fingers trace a pattern idly against the side of my neck.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I just wanted another taste.”

“I’m all for offering myself up for being your next meal, babe,” I say, waggling my eyebrows at her. “But if there’s something I can do to ensure this happens
every
day, just tell me. I’ll be all over that and then some.”

“Just be you,” she says with a chuckle. “Oh, and be prepared for lots of ‘tastes’ to come.”

I stare at her for a second, not sure what she’s trying to say. But this is Charlie; she’s sneaky and clever and sometimes I still think way out of my fucking league. She watches me trying to work out her meaning, but she doesn’t offer up a lick of help. I’ll get it. I’ll figure it out eventually. But she’s going to have a hell of a lot of fun in the meantime teasing me about it.

I smile down at her, eager for the games to begin, and then hear the sound of the door to the car that just arrived slam shut. The noise echoes around the hollow space and announces our stolen moment is through.

But there’ll be more. She’s as good as promised. I beam.

“Hello?” a male voice sounds out. “Is someone back there?”

It takes me a second to recognise it. I think it might be Finn Drake.

“Is that you, Finn?” I call out, as Charlie pulls back, a small smile on her lips making her look like the cat that got the fucking cream. Shouldn’t that be my expression?

“Yeah. Adam? Where are you?”

I make quick work of tidying myself up and then slip my hand into Charlie’s and pull her out from behind the van.

“Just inspecting the cameras in the corner,” I offer as Finn comes into sight. Fuck! He looks terrible.

“The cameras, huh?” he says, not believing a single word. Since when did lawyers have such dirty fucking minds?

“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask to get his attention off me.

“Long story. But I’m really glad I bumped into.”

“You
are
here at ASI,” I point out.

“I wasn’t sure who’d be in on a Saturday,” he explains.

“Nick’s called everyone in, something big’s going down.”

Finn nods as if he’s not surprised by this. And alarm bells start to go off inside my head.

“You need us?” Charlie says, probably putting two and two together way quicker than me. And then I remind myself that she was in on that meeting with Finn and Nick the other day. I wasn’t.

But Charlie hasn’t told me a thing and I haven’t asked. That’s not how it works when it’s all about the job. I get the feeling I might need to be in the know now.

Finn meets my eyes and says, “I need you to track someone for me. Hunt him down and find out everything you can in the next twenty hours that will get him deported from New Zealand.”

What the fuck?

“Looks like you’re on, Stalker,” Charlie says casually from beside me.

And that’s all I need to know that this is a go. That’s all I need for me to nod my head in agreement at Finn; offer myself up for the hunt without question. That’s all I need. Charlie.

That’s all I’ll ever need.

I
sit
in front of the mirror on my dresser and stare at my reflection. I’m not sure I know the woman who stares back at me. I am fairly certain I don’t want to be her.

The clock on the mantel above the fireplace in my old bedroom ticks loudly. I watch as the second hand slowly moves another small blip on its face. I’ve watched it move too many times this morning praying for a miracle to happen.

But I will not cry. I will not succumb to tears. Tears are weak. And a Tanaka is never weak.

My eyes wander over the rest of the room reflected in the mirror. At what used to be my sanctuary when I lived at home with my parents. It feels like a gilded cage now. One that will open in another hour as if releasing me.

But I know outside of it is an even darker prison.

The
shoji
hides my dress. I haven’t looked at it all day. Mama fussed and messed about with it early this morning, but Koki managed to distract her and take her away. I saw the sadness in his eyes. I saw his worry.

It’s not me he should be worried about. I’ll be fine. I’ll manage.

And then I think of Finn and I almost succumb to the sorrow.

I suck in a deep breath and then let it out again. Breathing just like Fujiwara-sensei taught me. He’ll be here today. So will so many of our ex-patriots. When one of your own marries so loftily it becomes a cause for celebration.

I rather think it’s more a funeral.

My fingers shake as I reach out and pick up a scrap of paper from the dresser. I’ve read it so many times now that I know it word for word. I trace the writing, the long strokes and slanting letters. He has powerful penmanship. Bold. Uncompromising. Much like the man.

I smile, remembering that ridiculous baseball bat. The dent on the door of the van. Of the way he steps outside of his comfort zone, again and again and again.

My free hand comes up to my mouth, my fingers pressing against my lips as if to capture his last kiss there. I can’t feel it anymore. I can’t feel him anymore. I am numb with desolation.

I suck in another fortifying breath of air and open the folded note.

Koibito
, it says. Lover. I was Finn Drake’s lover for so short a time. But it will be what keeps me going. To love and lose that love, there can be no harsher thing. I brace myself as my eyes slowly lower to the next line.

You are my heart.
It doesn’t get any easier. Every time I read it, I want to scream with so much frustration and rage. I hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. I hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But he stood there and he didn’t leave my side, even when Koki blustered.

No one, other than my brother, has stood beside me without flinching when the darkness in our lives approaches.

But Finn Drake did.

I run my fingers over the words, then repeat the action. As if by touching them, I can hear his voice. I can’t. I will never hear his voice again. Tadashi will see to it.

I read on.
The past week has been as if a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream. I never want to wake up. I only want to lie beside you, look in your beautiful eyes, and lose myself time and again.

His eyes are brown, but not the same brown as mine. They’re rich and striated with hazel and hints of amber and jade, and deeper than any chasm. He has the Grand Canyon of eyes and I only wish there had been more time to stare into them.

I will close my eyes and think of his when I need the strength.

My finger lands on the next line of the note. It was too short, written in haste, I realise. A quick good-bye because he couldn’t leave without saying it. I don’t blame him. I will never blame Finn for any of this. It wasn’t his fight, but still he fought it. A battle that he could not win.

I will always be grateful for the time we had, for those small, few hours and days, because without them, I would never have known what true love is. Without them, I would not have been able to face my future. Do what my family needs.

But all dreamers must wake. Or so they say. Although I refuse to believe that.

A small sound escapes me and I tamp it down, but it is getting so hard. I tell myself his love will sustain me. But I feel so ashamed. Ashamed that I have hurt this man.

Because he will be hurting. When this day is over. He will hurt and I will ache and for a time we will think it was all pointless. But how can saving my father, protecting my mother, honouring my family be in vain?

I have contemplated many different courses of action. Tadashi’s death amongst them. But one does not simply kill the
wakagshira
of your Yakuza family. The fall-out would be too grave.

We are trading one problem for another, I am aware of this, but even though I know we couldn’t have taken on the Triads - they are too vast and too entrenched here in New Zealand for one small family to face - I have wondered whether that was our greatest failure. Whether Papa shouldn’t have returned to the old ways.

But Mama is so fragile. And Papa knows this.

I am his strength, he says. I am the heart of our family’s power. The only one strong enough to do what has to be done to save the rest.

I blink down at the piece of paper. My fingers trembling so much, the note shakes. But I know the words by heart. They are mine now. Finn may no longer be, but these memories, these last words, they will be with me for eternity.

Will you trust me? Please? Trust that I can protect the dream.
He can’t. But I love that he thought it. That he took the time to write down the words.

It was a dream. A sweet, blissful dream. But it is over.

I fold the note up, not bothering to read the last line. I wear the last line on my heart for only me.

You are my heart, Koibito. And always will be.

I don’t realise I’m crying until a hand lands softly on my shoulder. I stare up at my brother in the mirror, through the haze of tears, and sob quietly.

“This is wrong,” he says. “Momo,” he whispers, leaning down and wrapping me up in an embrace. “Say the word. And I will dispose of him.”

Like he disposed of the Triads?

“He is not one man, Koki, and you know this. He is Yakuza. He represents the whole. Cut him down, you cut off their right arm. And with their left they will annihilate you.”

“But it might give us time.”

“Time to convince Papa?”

Koki scowls. He knows our father would never accept anything less than honour. If we were to do this, he would disown us. And allow himself to be cut down by our
Oyabun
, along with our mother.

“He is tired of hiding,” I say, reaching up and cupping my hand over Koki’s on my shoulder. “I am tired, too,
o-nii-san
.”

Koki spins away, frustration marring his handsome features. “There’s still time,” he mutters and then checks his watch and fists his hands, growling.

“There is no more time,” I say, standing. I feel calm. The more agitated Koki becomes, the more serene I feel. I run my hands down my dressing gown and look toward the
shoji
.

“I’ll fight him,” Koki says, starting to pace. “I’ll fight Father.”

“You will do no such thing,” I snap, halting in my tracks towards the
shoji
screen. “You have a chance now, Koki,” I say, rushing over to him and gripping his arm. “Please do not make my sacrifice be for nothing.”

He shakes his head and cups my cheeks. “I have hidden who I am for so long, it no longer bothers me.”

“That is not true,” I argue; I see his pain every single day. He stares at me defiantly. “Argh!” I exclaim, throwing up my hands in irritation. “Can’t you see? This solves so many of our problems. Father will be safe from punishment. Mother will not be threatened ever again. And you, Koki. You will be free to be who you want to be. There will be no expectations. The price has already been paid and Papa will finally leave you alone.”

“And you? What about you, Momo? Who saves you?”

I straighten my back and suck in a breath of air, but the words are hard to say.

“I always knew this would be my destiny. Perhaps not with Tadashi, but with someone similar. Papa made it very clear that I would be our salvation.”

“His!
His
salvation, Momo. This has always been about him.”

“What about Mama? Does she not deserve our loyalty too?”

Koki waves his hand in dismissal and then flicks a gaze out of the window of my room.

“He’s here,” he says quietly.

For a moment I think he means Finn. But his whole demeanour is defeated. Finn might evoke emotions in my brother, but they are more likely discomfort at what he means to me, than failure.

“Tadashi-san,” I say, but Koki only growls at the honorific.

I move to the
shoji
and step behind it, letting my eyes fall on my wedding dress for the first time today. The
shiromuku
is all white with a red trim. The white represents purity, a blank canvas to be painted my groom’s own colour. The red is a more modern twist reflective of today’s society. The material is sleek and inlaid with a pattern that will only be visible when I shift.

This is not how I imagined as a small girl that I would dress on my wedding day. At least, I had not imagined my pure horror at dressing like this.

I slip out of my dressing gown and start to wrap the
kimono
around me. I will need some help and it should come from my mother, but I can’t seem to raise my voice to speak. When I step out from behind the
shoji
, Koki is still there. The look on his face almost breaks me.

“You are beautiful,
imouto-san
,” he says.

“It is a shame it is wasted on the wrong man,” I manage to rasp.

Koki’s eyes meet mine. For a long moment he says nothing, but then he whispers, “Have faith. I have never met a man more determined than Finn Drake. Trust him, Momo.” Finn’s words to me in the note. I glance across at the dresser and then rush over and pick it up. Holding it carefully, closely, as if I could hold him against my heart.

I know I shouldn’t, I might pay for it later. But I slip the note inside my dress, against my breast. Over my heart.

“What is he doing?” I say, not facing my brother. Finn’s words hadn’t been empty.

“What he’s been doing for the past night and day. Finding a way to save us. To save you.”

I don’t want to ask. I’m desperate to know. “Do you think… Is it possible… Can he?”

I look over my shoulder at Koki and he smiles.

“If anyone can find a way out of this mess, then that fucking man can. He is wily, Momo. Fucking determined. He walked into ASI and took control. Simply snatched it from Nick’s hands and started barking orders. You should have seen the boss’s face. But when Finn spoke, everyone jumped, and they haven’t stopped jumping at his orders ever since.”

The words are bitter-sweet. I wan’t to believe them. Trust them.

Will you trust me? Please? Trust that I can protect the dream.

But there is no more time. The clock on the mantel strikes three.

Koki’s face becomes solemn as he walks towards me and starts to finish off wrapping my
shiromuku
.

“It is traditional, I think,” he says as he winds the fabric around me and then proceeds to tuck the lengths over themselves to make the intricate bustle at the back. “To be a little late to your own wedding.”

I smile despite myself and allow him to fuss, when he usually never fusses, and lose myself to this peaceful moment with my brother before the storm unleashes.

It will undoubtedly be our last peaceful moment together. I have no idea where Tadashi plans for us to live, but I fear it will be miles away from Koki.

It takes Koki twenty minutes to finish dressing me, and in that time we are visited by my father twice and my mother four times. Each time Koki calmly tells them to go take their seats. Finally, they oblige. Towards the end, Koki catches my eye in the full length mirror, and then slips something small into the folds of my dress.

My hand goes to the spot his hand has just left. I feel the outline of nunchucks.

“For luck,” he says with a wink.

I love my brother.

Half an hour after my groom arrived at our family home, Koki leads me down the stairs to the ground floor. The house smells of flowers, so many from my shop I almost feel giddy. And then I see the swathe of people out on the back lawn and I spot Tadashi standing tall at the makeshift altar and I feel sick to my stomach.

A small sheen of sweat graces my skin and I sway on my feet.

“Momo,” Koki says urgently, just as my father arrives in order to escort me.

“What is wrong with her?” I hear him say.

“Can’t you see?” Koki growls back in a low voice. “She’s panicking.”

“I’m not,” I try to say, but I simply can’t breathe.

I can’t do this. I can’t.

“Get her water,” Papa orders, and I watch through blurred vision as Koki rushes away, leaving me.

“Momoko-san,” my father’s voice says from beside me. He has crouched down and I realise he is holding my hand in his larger one. “It will be short and then it will be over.”

It will never be over.

“There is no other way,” he says softly. My father rarely uses a soft voice. It is not in his nature. But he treats me now like a fragile piece of glass and it does what shouting could not.

I straighten my back, lift my chin, and breathe.

I am a Tanaka. One day I wish to be a Tanaka-sama. Today I become Tadashi’s.

There are dreams and there are dreams. Some we think of wistfully and some we treasure forever. I know what lies ahead will be neither.

But inside I will be brave. I will be strong. And I will honour my father.

And he will know. For a brief moment in time, I will be
his
Tanaka-sama.

I grip his hand and move to my feet, standing tall beside my father.

“I am proud,” he says quietly. “I am honoured,” he says with feeling.

And then we’re walking.

I see Fujiwara-sensei and friends of my father’s. I see faces I know and those I don’t. Some happy, some impassive.

I see Tadashi and I almost falter.