Page 17 of Curses & Kitsune

In the bedroom, I strip down to my underwear. The bedroom is much smaller than the one back in the penthouse, but my people splurged on a good bed and appliances throughout the house. The Namikawa-kai own the building, and we’ve used this place as a hidey-hole in the past before. One of many we’ve got around the city.

After a few minutes, Jinta joins me in bed. “Goodnight,” he says.

“Goodnight.” I flick off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. As the dark presses in on me, unease stirs beneath my skin. I can’t sleep. Worry churns in my stomach. I could be seeing my father again soon. There are no pleasant memories I have of that man. Well, maybe that’s not true. He was nice. Sometimes. He liked to take me golfing at one of the resorts Namikawa owned.

It was when we’d come home that things would sour. Mom would get on him about the drinking or the long hours he spent working for Namikawa. He’d find something to complain about at dinner. Their fights got worse and worse. I still remember when he hit her for the first time. It’s seared into my memory. I don’t even remember what they were fighting about. Just that suddenly, he’d swung, hitting her so hard she’d fallen down.

I’d felt sick. Bile had bubbled up into my throat. I’d gone to bed that night and cried, ashamed I hadn’t protected my mother, furious that he’d put a hand on her like that. I promised myself if I ever found my mate, I’d never raise a hand against them. I’d kill for them instead.

The way I wished someone had just fucking killed my father the moment he laid his hands on my mother. I wish I’d just done it myself.

I’m not a weak little boy anymore. I’m not helpless.

So why does the mere memory of my father make me feel so damn small again? Like I’m just nothing.

“Baby? You okay?”

My breath catches. I realize I’ve been breathing hard, gripping the sheets tight in my fist. “Fine,” I mumble, curling my knees up toward my chest.

The sheets rustle, and Jinta’s warm, slender body nestles against my back. His arms wrap around me, his cheek pressing against my shoulder. Beneath the blankets, he rubs his foot along my calf. The tension bleeds from my body, and I grip his arm and squeeze tight.

Somehow, I’ve got to get out of this life.

Before I hurt the only man who’s ever told me he loves me.

The next morning, I call a meeting to discuss the shooting with my pack. Jinta stays in the apartment and works from home. I leave my guards with him, but I hate leaving him alone, even if he’s safer in the apartment than with me. I was so tense this morning nothing would relax me. Not until I fucked Jinta over the counter. Felt his tight hot body clenching around me while I pounded him. Heard him moan my name. Smelled his cum as he spilled all over my chest. Sex with my mate always relaxes me, and I can tell it’s good for him, too.

Fuck. I still feel awful when I remember how badly I scared him yesterday. The way he shook in my arms when he saw me after the shooting. I’m such an asshole for making him worry about me like that. He’d be so much happier without me. So much safer.

Grimacing, I shake away the thought as I step out of the elevator and make my way to Namikawa’s old office where I’ve summoned my top-ranking members.

My men won’t arrive for several minutes, so I dial a number into my phone and wait.

“This is Tozawa.” The leader of the Horikoshi-gumi has a deep, rumbling voice.

“Tozawa, this is Raiden Noboru. I heard about the attack on your organization the other day. My condolences.”

He grunts. “You’re moving up in the world, Wolf. Last time Namikawa spoke to me, you were just a debt collector. Watch your back. The world is less tolerant of us than it has ever been.”

“How many were killed?”

“Dozens, first in Tokyo, then in Osaka.” Anger makes his voice deepen to a growl.

“And… what about Kenta Noboru? Do you know where he is?”

“Ah. Your father.”

I almost correct him. That bastard isn’t my father. I don’t want him knowing that my father’s abandonment still has a hold over me.

“He ratted us out to the Blades. It won’t be long before we find him and make him answer for his crimes.”

“You sure it was him?”

He grunts. “He has no honor, no sense of loyalty. It was him, I’m sure of it.”

He’s sure of it, but it doesn’t sound like he has any tangible proof it was my father. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

“I hope you’ll find him,” I say. “That’s all. Just wanted to know if you knew his whereabouts.”

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