Page 24 of Secrets & Sake

“Boss,” I say, trying to grab his attention as we close in on the club. “This place is going to be packed with civilians.”

Namikawa’s stride doesn’t falter. “If they interfere, then cut them down.”

My stomach twists. “Boss—”

“He has killed our people. An eye for an eye is the only fair response. He wishes to prove to us that we are incapable of protecting our own! To make fools of us all. We shall prove the opposite is true.”

Ren meets my gaze, wide-eyed and complexion paler than usual.

My heart is somewhere in my stomach as we muscle our way to the front of the line.

“Hey, assholes!” the bouncer snarls, and his eyes bulge as he catches sight of Namikawa, shielded in the center of our group. “What are you—”

But with one swift motion, Namikawa pulls a knife from beneath his sleeve and slits the bouncer’s throat. The people behind us scream and begin to run.

With a kick, I throw open the doors and my pack streams inside. Loud music throbs in my ears. People dance without a care on the crowded dance floor or laugh over drinks at the bar with friends.

As our scents waft in, the atmosphere changes in an instant. Takada-kai men at the bar leap up and bellow warnings to each other. They rush us in seconds. There aren’t many, but I know that will change any moment now.

One of the Takada-kai men pulls out a knife and hurls it over the sea of people. It strikes a Namikawa-kai member in the skull only inches from me. The club erupts in screams. Glasses shatter as people drop their drinks and seek cover or run for the exits.

The lights flash violently around us, making it hard to tell if the ones rushing toward us in the crowd are yakuza or civilians—and I’m not the only one confused. A few of our fighters panic as they pull out knives they’ve hidden away and start biting and slashing anyone who rushes at us, yakuza or not.

Someone launches themselves at me from the crowd and swings a punch into my stomach. Claws bite into my skin and tear my shirt. With a snarl, I drive my teeth into my attacker’s shoulder and tear out a chunk of flesh and clothes, making him scream.

From the balcony above, a throaty growl of a voice bellows, “What the hell is going on here?”

I shove my attacker to the ground and kick him across the face. When I look up, Saito Takada looms on the balcony. Lights flash across his face, which twists in fury. He leaps from above and lands on his feet, claws sharp at his sides. Others jump down and flank him protectively. At the forefront of his protection is Hirano Kasamatsu, Takada’s second-in-command.

“Stay behind me, Saito!” Hirano growls.

“Shut up, don’t tell me what to do!” Takada barks.

The club has emptied, and nobody stands between us except four injured civilians sprawled on the ground and a few bloodied Takada-kai thugs.

“Noboru, would you kindly?” Namikawa asks, and the command in his voice is one I can’t refuse. Going to Namikawa, I stand in front of him, ready to defend him even at the cost of my own life.

Takada curls his lip in a sneer. “Being a subservient little bitch isn’t a good look on you, Noboru. If you were in my pack… well. You’d be my bitch, too. But I’d make it so good for you.”

Beside me, Ren tenses. Hideyoshi’s nostrils flare, and in a rare show of anger, my grandfather unsheathes his claws. “You will not lay a hand upon my grandson again. Filth.”

Damn. I forget my grandad can be a badass when he wants to be.

“Enough,” Namikawa snaps. “If you take issue with my leadership, then challenge me man to man, Takada!”

With a snarl, Takada charges us with his men. I swing, claws narrowly avoiding Takada’s face. He grabs my arm and spins me around, sending me flying across the floor on my back. I’m on my feet in seconds just in time to deflect the punch he throws at me. Inches apart, Takada grins at me. “Join me, Noboru! You know you want to. You’ll never be Namikawa’s pet again!”

“Shut up!” I snarl and throw a kick into his stomach so hard it sends him soaring back and crashing into the bar.

The club door crashes open. “Boss! Sirens! The police are coming!” someone shouts.

“Shit!” Takada screams, and he shoves one of his men toward us and takes off running toward the back of the club.

“Scatter!” Namikawa orders. “Split up and lie low. Do not let yourselves be arrested or followed!”

A snarl builds in my throat as I watch Takada run away without so much as a scratch, but as sirens get louder, I book it out of there with the rest of my pack.

For the next few days, we follow Namikawa’s orders and lie low.

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