The Undertow (The Kuroda Yakuza Series Book 2) Read online

  The white car keeps pace.

  Kaito meets my gaze and we share a look. I don't really know what that look is supposed to mean, but suddenly he accelerates, and takes us on a convoluted route through narrow back streets, passing small shops, houses and restaurants. I watch the scenery in fascination, studying the small signs of life; parked bicycles, potted plants and vending machines. Everything's so different. Even the buildings with worn looking facades are neatly maintained, the street out front swept clean. Unlike LA, there's not a cigarette butt or spot of dried gum to be seen.

  Eventually, we head out into what looks more like suburbs, leaving the tall buildings and busy streets of the downtown behind.

  I look back. The white car has disappeared.

  A few blocks later, I look back again. The white car is back.

  They're tailing us, and trying to do it discreetly. Kaito slows down, continuing on our winding route. He drives as if he knows this city like the back of his hand.

  The area starts to look seedier, more run down. We drive onto an empty street beside the railway tracks, and for a while, the road behind us remains clear.

  But then the white car appears, rounding a corner and gaining on us slowly.

  Kaito mutters something under his breath in Japanese.

  "In front of you," he says, pointing at the glove compartment.

  "What?" It takes me a moment to register what he wants me to do.

  "Open it."

  I flip the compartment open and see a gun inside. It looks similar to the police-issue model my dad used to carry.

  "Uh." I stare at it for a moment, frozen in shock. Reality seems distorted. Then it sinks in: this is really happening. "What are you going to do, Kaito? Shouldn't we be trying to get away from those people?" A slight feeling of dread works its way into the pit of my stomach.

  Kaito reduces the car's speed even more, slowing us to a crawl. The car behind seems to stop, as if waiting to see what we're going to do next.

  "Take the gun and hold on to it for me. Don't worry. It's not going to fire unless you pull the trigger." He glances across, and the look he gives he is ice cold. Fighting the fine tremor in my hands, I pick up the gun. It's heavy and oily. It feels strange in my hands.

  "Sit tight, Adele. I'm going to get that fucking asshole now. Seatbelt on? Put your head down, protect your neck. We're going to ram him."

  "What the-" Before I can contemplate the madness of what Kaito's saying, we're reversing. He slams on the accelerator with one hand on the wheel, the other over the top of his seat as he looks backward with intense focus.

  I duck down, following Kaito's instructions to the letter, gun in one hand, the other arm covering my neck, pressed into my seat and hoping to hell that Kaito's not as fucking crazy as he seems right now.

  We hit the white sedan at full speed. The sound of metal hitting metal reverberates through me, the impact jerking me back and forth. But the seatbelt holds. I say a silent, thankful prayer for German engineering.

  Kaito's unclipping his seatbelt and leaning over to me, gently prising the gun from my hand. He runs a quick, gentle hand down my neck and back.

  "You okay?" He whispers. I nod.

  "Stay in the car, and don't look," he murmurs. "This will be over soon." Then, he steps out of the car.

  Kaito

  I ignore the ache in my back as I burst out of the driver's side, the Glock in one hand. I rest my finger over the trigger as I stride over to the white Toyota Crown. The driver's side airbag has blown up, and there's a large dent in the front where I've rammed it.

  Fucking asshole. I need to know who he works for.

  The driver is flailing behind the airbag, and he punches his door open, scrambling to exit the car.

  My gaze flicks back to my car. The back bumper and taillights are destroyed. But Adele is safely inside, and I say a silent prayer to Kannon that she's going to listen to me, just this once and stay in the car.

  Maybe I am turning into the religious type.

  Erika's going to fucking kill me for ruining the car.

  I wish I didn't have to do this right now, but it can't be helped. The guy saw us together, and for that, he needs to be silenced.

  I can't have him reporting back to whoever sent him that Adele is a person of interest.

  My fault, really. I should have known better. Shouldn't have met her in a public place. Should have noticed him sooner.

  Maybe I've gone soft from living in America.

  Should have, could have, would have.

  It's too late now.

  This isn't going to be pretty. I reach the door of the Crown and kick it in as the driver tries to slide out. It impacts with his body and he curses, frustrated, frantic, squirming out of his seat.

  Fucking amateur.

  "Hey, hey." I point the gun at his face. "Slow down there, buddy."

  He stares at me in open mouthed shock for a second, before pulling himself together. "Fuck you," he snarls, in Japanese.

  He's young, this kid, nothing more than a chinpira, dressed in a tracksuit, with his black hair slicked back in that old fashioned gangster style. He's got a gold chain around his neck and one of his upper teeth is missing.

  So definitely not a cop, then.

  "I wouldn't try that, if I were you." I slam the door on him again, and he grunts in pain, his leg caught in between. "Get out." I gesture with the tip of the gun.

  The guy stays as still as a rock. "Shoot me," he snarls. "I bet your girlfriend gets off on that kind of shit. Why else would a gai-jin bitch like her be interested in the likes of you?"

  For that, I pistol-whip him. "You do not talk about her." I yank the door open and grab a fistful of his greasy hair. "Get out."

  "Son of a bitch," the kid yelps. I pull him upright and jam the point of the gun into his neck, marching him over to the trunk of my car.

  The two cars are separated by several feet from the force of the impact. The trunk of the Mercedes is marred with a dent, but it pops open when I press the key. "Get in," I order.

  The kid flips out. "Just shoot me already, you asshole," he begs, like a fucking drama queen. I roll my eyes.

  "You don't want to die," I tell him, slipping back into my old, street-rough way of talking. "You punks put up a front of fake bravado and honor and all that bullshit, but the truth is, you're shit scared right now, and I'm the only thing standing between your death here and now and your death at the hands of your boss for being such a stupid motherfucker. But maybe, just maybe, if you shut the hell up, do what I say and get in the trunk right now, you might find out there's another option." I push the Glock further into his neck, as he stares at the dark recess of the trunk. I shrug. "But that's up to you. You screwed up, kid. Now, you wanna die, or not?”

  The kid freezes and takes a deep breath. I realise he's trembling. "Chikusho!" He spits in frustration, takes a long, defiant-but-scared-shitless look at me, then gets into the trunk of the car.

  "Smart choice," I nod approvingly. "The only choice you have." I slam the door shut, snorting in disgust. What bullshit. No-one's going to die for the cause. On the inside, we're all about self-preservation.

  We stay loyal because we don't want to die.

  Adele

  Kaito slips back into the driver's side and stashes his gun back in the glove compartment.

  "You didn't listen to me, did you?"

  He's right. I might have done a little watching, here and there. Actually, I saw the whole thing. I saw how he yanked that guy out of the car at gunpoint and forced him into the trunk.

  "You know me," I shrug, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I just can't help myself."

  "No, you can't, can you?"

  Kaito starts the car and we pull away from the wrecked white sedan. Even with the trunk all smashed up, the Mercedes drives as smoothly as ever.

  "Why was that guy following you?"

  "I don't know. There are many possible reasons. I'll ask him." The way he says the last bit, w
ith cold finality, sends a shudder down my spine.

  And just like that, we're heading back down narrow streets and onto busier roads, pushing into the flow of Tokyo traffic.

  It’s almost like that just didn't happen.

  But I know what I saw. I saw Kaito yank a guy out of his ruined vehicle with the dark threat of murder in his eyes. It was almost like he didn't want to kill the guy, but he would have, if it came to it.

  I had no idea what they were saying to each other, but Kaito was clearly calling all the shots, and the kid sounded angry, and scared.

  Now, we're weaving through Tokyo traffic with a hostage in the trunk of the car.

  I should be terrified right now. I should be on the next plane back to LA. I should stay the fuck away from this man beside me.

  But this is the same man, who only two weeks ago, was teaching me to snorkel in the crystal blue waters around Koh Samui. He's the same Kaito who was gentle and patient, who teased me with his dry humour and shared small, valuable glimpses of himself wtih me, revealing the soul under the hard exterior.

  He treated me like a queen.

  And he is the only man who has ever made love to me like that.

  So what do I do now?

  "So is this the part where you tell me to go back home?" I ask, as we enter yet another neighborhood. We've headed back towards what looks like a busier part of the city. Kaito drives for a while, silent, then turns into a network of quiet, narrow streets.

  The stillness hangs between us, brittle and awkward. Finally, Kaito stops the car and turns to me.

  "This changes everything, Adele."

  From the back of the car, I hear a dull thud. The guy stuck in the trunk is probably freaking out.

  As I study Kaito, his expression softens. I let my gaze linger on his striking features; the strong lines of his face, the sensual curve of his mouth. It's pressed into a hard line. And this mixture of anger and frustration and desire he's showing me right now is so irresistible.

  His dark suit is perfectly neat. He looks as impeccable as always, even though he's caused a minor traffic accident and manhandled some guy into the back of his car.

  The slow-burning arousal I've been trying to ignore all along spreads like wildfire. A flush colours my cheeks, and desire courses through me.

  Dammit, not right now.

  "You're not going anywhere, Adele. We were followed just now, and I don't know who else has seen us together. I don't know who's waiting back in LA, who could use you against me. You wanted to see this city? Now you're stuck here. With me." His voice is a low, possessive rumble.

  His words send a thrill through me. This is what I wanted all along, wasn't it? Except I get the feeling there won't be much time for sightseeing.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  Kaito glances out the window, drawing my attention to the building outside. It's an older style traditional looking two storey house, with wooden and plaster walls, surrounded by a low stone wall. The roof is covered with the same type of slate grey ceramic tiles I saw at the temple. Amongst the stark, modern concrete apartment buildings in the neighborhood, it looks out of place, a relic from a bygone era.

  "This is my house," he informs me, sounding almost nostalgic. "It's the only thing my mother left me. And this is where I grew up. The neighborhood's different now. What's the word you Americans use for it?" He pauses for a moment. "Gentrification. That's it."

  I stare up at the building, surprised and entranced. I hadn't expected Kaito to bring me from that scene of violence to a place so intimate to him.

  Kaito starts the car again, turning into a driveway so narrow I didn't notice it at first. He hands me a set of keys. "Please, go inside. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you shortly."

  For some reason, I find his mild tone more ominous than if he were to sound angry.

  I take the keys nervously. This whole situation is making me feel uneasy. A lot of it has to do with the guy in the trunk. And what Kaito might do to him. "Maybe I should go, and catch up with you later"

  "You're not going anywhere now." Still with that mild, matter-of-fact tone. But his look tells me he means it. "You don't want to see what happens next, Adele, so go inside."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kaito

  I watch as Adele makes her way to the front of the house, glancing nervously back towards me.

  Even though I don't like the half-scared expression on her face, a strange kind of satisfaction fills me. She's entering my house. The place where I grew up.

  It's the only thing I have left of my childhood. My mother worked hard to buy this place, and as she lay dying in hospital, she told me it was the only good thing she'd done for me in her lifetime. After she died, I couldn't live here. It felt too empty. Instead, I got myself a cramped apartment on the other side of town.

  It used to be a place where prostitutes lived and brought their clients. My mother was one. And I saw it all through the eyes of a child. No doubt that upbringing messed me up more than a little, and took away my ability to live like a normal human being in normal society.

  Being with Adele cures that, a little. She's the only other good thing that's come to me in this life.

  This house is out of place in this neighborhood. It's a relic on a valuable piece of prime Tokyo land. But I'm not selling it to any fucking developer for any amount of cash.

  I step out of the car, a roll of duct tape in my hand. The Glock is tucked into my waistband.

  The kid in the trunk has gone silent. I know the uncertainty is killing him right now, and he's just waiting for me to appear. I don't need to try any brutal interrogation techniques on the punk. Time will do that for me.

  There's nothing worse than not knowing one's fate.

  The mind is often our own worst enemy.

  I walk over to the trunk on silent feet and pop it open. The kid is ready, lunging out at me like a coiled spring.

  But I'm faster. I punch him once in the face, and he cowers back, moaning in pain.

  Before he can recover, I draw the gun. "Turn around," I order.

  "Motherfucker," he spits, hatred in his eyes. But he turns around all the same.

  I wrap his wrists and ankles with duct tape and seal his mouth. "I need you to be quiet. Stay there for a while."

  He glares at me, breathing heavily. Fresh blood leaks from his nose where I punched him.

  "I'll be back," I inform him. "But I have something more important to do first." I slam the trunk shut, leaving him to reflect on his mistakes, and the value of his life.

  Adele

  I let myself in through the front door, slipping off my shoes at the entrance. Beneath my bare feet, the wooden floorboards of this house are worn and smooth.

  I make my way into what looks like the living room. The scent of old wood, deep and earthy, greets me as I step onto a floor covered in woven mats. The walls are made of paper and wood, with sliding doors partitioning the rooms.

  This place looks as if it's been untouched for years. A thin layer of dust coats mismatched furniture, although the low table in the centre of the room has been swept clean. It sits alongside a sofa and a half empty bookcase.

  I pick up a framed photograph from the bookcase. It's faded with age. A beautiful Japanese woman smiles out from the picture. She's wearing a red sundress and her lips are painted in the same shade of crimson. Beside her stands a boy, looking no more than ten years old. He's staring at the camera with a serious expression on his face.

  A ten year old boy who can't crack a smile.

  "That's me." Kaito's low voice wraps around me and I spin around, startled.

  "Make a bit more noise when you enter a room," I gasp, coming face to face with him. He stands so close I can see the faint sunlight dancing across his eyes, painting them with streaks of mahogany and black.

  I study the photo, noting the resemblance between the grown-up Kaito and the woman. "That's your mom, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "
She’s stunning," I murmur. "You look like her."

  "Hm." Kaito's staring at me with dark, hungry eyes. Sunlight engulfs us from an open window, tiny dust motes dancing around us like mythical, glimmering sparks.

  "You shouldn't have come here," he growls, putting his hands on my neck, tracing the hollow around my collarbones with his thumbs. "Look what you've gotten yourself into now."

  "But you caught the guy following us."

  “It’s a problem. He’s seen us together, and he’s marked you. And I don't know whether or not there have been others."

  I take a deep breath as Kaito applies a little more pressure with his hands. "What would anyone want with me?"

  "That's how things work in this world, Adele. Blackmail, threats, sabotage. They find what's precious to you and take it, threaten to destroy it. That's how they control you."

  "And who the hell are 'they'?"

  "I don't know yet. It could be someone from within Kuroda. It could be a rival group. I need to find out."

  "Why would anyone be out to get you so bad, Kaito?"

  "Because I've done unforgivable things. If you knew, you'd hate me."

  I'm frozen against the warmth of his rough fingers and the swirling storm in his eyes. "I don't always understand you, but I know enough of you to know that I could never hate you."

  "I don't understand you either, sometimes." Kaito's hands move down, reaching the hem of my t-shirt. "I don't know why you would come here, why you would be with me. But now that you're here, you'll do exactly as I say. For your safety, and for my sanity."

  He lifts my t-shirt up as I raise my arms, pulling it up over my head and dropping it on the floor, exposing my breasts.

  I stand there in front of him, in only my black bra and jeans.

  Kaito unclasps my bra and pulls the straps over my shoulders, letting it fall. "My life would be so much easier if I didn't give a shit about you."

  He plants a long, hot kiss in the hollow of my neck, before trailing his warm, silken lips up my neck, to the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Take off your jeans," he whispers, putting his hands on my breasts.