Page 33 of The Queen's Denial

“Yeah, I could die. But… I’ll try not to,” I say, awkwardly attempting to be sincere and flippant at the same time.

She doesn’t roll her eyes or slap me good-naturedly. She stares dolefully into my gaze and puts her hand on my cheek. I imagine what we must look like and am shocked to consider the fact that it’s something I’ve never had and always wanted: someone to see me off. All the years I was in the military, no one ever said goodbye like this. Even my mother, who never wanted this life for me. And my father, who was killed because of it anyway, no matter how hard he tried to stay away.

Chi tucks a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. “I…” She bites her lip, and I feel how much there is to say between us. I think we both know that whatever we’ve been doing these past few weeks is more than just fucking. But there’s no way to express that. There’s no way we can say everything we want to say right now, and no matter how much Chi wants to, I know she won’t.

“I’m going to miss you,” she finishes lamely.

I give her a crooked smile. “I know.” Now I’m trying to bait her into hitting me, but she barely even registers what I’ve said. So, I give in and give her what she wants. “I’m going to miss you too, Chi.”

She slips her arms around me for a hug. I’m not sure she’s ever initiated this sort of contact before. It feels more intimate than anything we’ve done. More intimate than the sex or the 24/7 mauling of each other’s faces we’ve been doing for the past two days. I think I might actually like it better than all of that.

It’s over too soon, and I have to go. “Duty calls, babe,” I say, trying to push any feelings this encounter may have brought to the surface out of the way so that I can do what needs to be done.

“Andy,” she says, as I reach the door.

I pause and look over my shoulder as casually as possible. “Yeah?”

She swallows and lifts her pointed chin, looking every bit like the queen she’ll be one day, giving her knight an order. “Don’t fucking die.”

Chapter 16

Chi

I’ve never paced. I’ve never been anxious enough to pace. But right now, I’m pacing a hole in the persian carpet of the huge grand ballroom, waiting for any information as to where the fuck Andy, Cas, or Mara are. It’s driving me completely insane, consuming my every thought.

I worry that any of them, even fucking Cas, might not be okay. I have plenty of books that I’ve brought here to read, and none of them are holding my attention. The only thing that takes the edge off at all is this fucking pacing. The only time I can remember being this anxious are the few days after my father got shot and Andy, Cas, Mara and I were all staying together to make sure we were safe. At least then, Andy was there to preoccupy me with his thirsty gestures, like changing shirts in front of me for no apparent reason or using his big man muscles to carry me back to my room after I fell asleep in Mara’s bed. But there were also the strangely sincere efforts to get my mind off of it, like playing chess and making jokes. Even asking me about my favorite books because he knew I loved to read.

It’s been hours and hours since Andy and Cas left. Night has fallen, and I’m sure they’ve started attacking by now. It drives me even crazier than I expected not to be able to be with them. I know that even the idea of such a thing is preposterous — that even a Yakuza queen wouldn’t be allowed on a mafia battlefield — certainly not a Yakuza princess. But I still wish I could be there.

I sigh and sit on one of the many chairs at a huge, ten-person banquet table that probably hasn’t been used in years. This is a historic mansion, and I’m technically not even supposed to be sitting here right now. This big, beautiful room, once so loved and frequented by the highest of society, is now here only for private tours and guests who are willing to shell out tens of thousands of dollars to stay for a few nights.

It seems such a waste, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe this poor fucking room is tired of being tread all over, hyped up into something far grander than its simple beauty needs to be, decorated and celebrated for no reason besides the fact that it belonged to important people.

I grit my teeth and make a decision. I’m not going to just be a pretty little ornament like everyone thinks I should be. I need to call Oxy again and fucking do something.

*****

“Daiki. Watashi wa anata ni hanasu hitsuyo ga arimasu,” I say assertively in Japanese. I need to talk to you.

Daiki’s neck snaps up. I rarely use his and my father’s first language unprompted, and he’s obviously curious about why I’m doing so now in this bold tone. Technically, Daiki is lower in rank than I am, but he is also an older man and my father’s closest friend, so there is a certain level of respect and honor I have to give him. My tone could be considered a defiance of both of these, but I know that Daiki won’t take it the wrong way. And honestly, I don’t have time to worry about whether he will or not.

“Chichi-chan? What is wrong?” he answers back in Japanese.

I take a deep breath, summoning all of my courage. “I have some information that could help with the war. We have plenty of men. And while we’ve sent the required amount along with Cas and Andy already, there are more we could be utilizing in other ways.”

I swallow to give myself a moment and then continue. “I’ve spoken with Cas’s tech guru —you know, Oxy. She gave me the coordinates of the weakest areas that will need attention. They told me that diversions will be best — even more necessary than manpower on the battlefield. So, if we really want to help, we need to station men at the weak coordinates to hold the attention of the cops that are going to arrive there.”

“What coordinates? What are you talking about?” Daiki seems a little surprised, but more confused as to why I think I have any information he doesn’t already possess.

“I just know that Cas’s expert wants us to focus on these.” I hand him my phone and show him the pins on my GPS.

Daiki closes his eyes, trying to process everything I’m saying. “Chichi, why would random coordinates around the city attract the attention of police?”

I shrug my shoulders. “That’s not something I need to know, I guess. But why would Oxy lie? She works with Papa and has been helping Cas for years.”

Daiki still looks a little confused and skeptical. He looks like he’s going to say no, and although technically I could command the men without his blessing, I would never do so. I have too much respect for him.

“Daiki-san, please. Would you just trust that the soon-to-be Yakuza queen won’t steer our soldiers directly into harm’s way for no reason?”

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