Page 17 of Soldier, Tailor, Spy

“Oh, yeah?” She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Rae was here a little while ago. Said she was taking the kids to meet some people.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you have a hand in that?”

He laughed. “You caught me. I thought you could use a night to decompress after a stressful week. I also wanted to give you an update on what we know.”

She visibly paled, as though worried he knew something she didn’t. Or, perhaps, she knew something he didn’t, and she was afraid to tell him. “Oh, you did?” Ginger placed her shaky hand on the table beside them. “What did you find out?”

“Why don’t we eat first,” he replied, trying to ease her anxiety. “I bet you’re starving, since this place isn’t really home anymore.”

She sagged. “You’re right. I’m starving. This is all so... Different. I asked Rae if feeling this out of sorts was normal. Of course, she said yes. Like, what else is she supposed to say?” His ex-wife rolled her eyes.

“If you weren’t feeling like you are, I’d worry something was wrong with you,” he replied, easing her into the closest chair. “It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to worry about the kids. You can lean on all of us for help.” Jake gave her a small smile before opening the door when a soft knock announced their food was ready.

“Honestly, Jake,” she murmured. “I don’t know what to feel. All I can say with certainty is that I am so angry and disgusted and hurt. I feel like everything I’ve known for the last thirteen years was a lie.”

He placed the tray of their food onto the table, then knelt in front of her, wincing at the pull of his stitches. “Listen to me.” He grasped her chin, so her emerald eyes met his amber ones. “I fucked up and pushed you and Fawn away because of my fears. I did that. But this shit with Oscar was all on him. Not you. You did nothing to deserve the shit storm you’re experiencing right now.”

“Jake,” she sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is,” he replied. “We need to talk, though, about a lot of stuff.” He placed a covered plate in front of her then opened the bottle of wine he’d specifically asked the cooks to get from his stash.

“We do,” she agreed. “Although I’m not sure about the wine.”

“One glass won’t harm your milk supply. Plus, I am sure you pumped some milk for Declan for later, since he won’t be here.” He sat down after he poured her a glass, then himself. “I know you won’t take any type of medication right now, so this is the next best thing.”

She frowned, but took a sip, anyway. “One glass, that’s it. No funny stuff, Jake.”

“Never,” he said. “I hope I got everything correct. It’s been a while since we’ve eaten together, and your tastes might have changed.”

When he called down to the chow hall, he put in an order for ribeye steaks grilled medium, steamed vegetables, mashed red-skinned potatoes with garlic, sour cream, and a bit of chives. It was the first meal they ever shared. It seemed appropriate after everything. They should at least be able to enjoy their meal.

“Perfect,” she sighed, before taking a bite of her steak. “Thank you for remembering.”

“Of course.” They tucked into their meal in a compatible silence until the air of expectancy swirled around them, and he couldn’t put their conversation off any longer. “So, I want to start slow, okay? I need to know a few things so we can fill in the holes.”

“Bull shit, Jake.” Ginger put her fork down. “You already know what’s going on. You don’t have to be gentle with me. I’m not fragile. Ask your questions. I have my big girl panties on.”

He set his fork and knife down. “Fine.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me—us—you knew the identity of Kiyoshi Yamamoto when you saw him in the cell.”

Her lips parted and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink because of embarrassment. “At first I didn’t recognize him. He was bruised and battered. But when he looked at me, I saw him. I was confused. Scared. I didn’t understand.” She scrubbed her face before pushing her almost empty plate away from her. “When you left us, Jake, Mr. Yamamoto, stepped up. He became a grandfather to Fawn. Kiyoshi was like an uncle to her, the same with Itsuki.” A faint smile touched her lips. “They were even learning small bits of sign language just for Fawn.” Her bottom lip trembled. “How was I supposed to know they would show up at my house one night and destroy my world? I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Listen to me, Ginger. Mr. Yamamoto and his son took care of you when I couldn’t. We will both be eternally grateful for his—their support. I am just as surprised to learn the truth about them.”

“Who are they, Jake? What could Oscar have found out about them to cause all of this?” She motioned to her apartment at his base.

“I need you to hear me and not get upset,” he whispered. “They are Yakuza.”

A giggle bubbled forth from her. She covered her mouth before laughing again. “Jake, come on. Mr. Yamamoto? He couldn’t hurt a fly. He isnotYakuza.”

Jake stared at her.

“You’re not serious.” Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. I wouldneverput our daughter or-or my son at risk. If I had even an inkling of knowledge, the business wasn’t on the up and up, I would have turned them in myself.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me or any of us. We all know you would have done the right thing, hence why I—we—believe you didn’t know.” Jake gave her a pointed look. “What I am about to tell you is classified for now. It goes no farther than you or me, got it?”

She gave a shaky nod.

“Mr. Yamamoto is the head of the Yamamoto Syndicate. His son Kiyoshi Yamamoto is the second in charge. Though you might not have known it, they were using the shop as a front for their business of trafficking women and boys from the port in Virginia Beach to New York City and the Nekoma Organization, or in this case, Nekoma Incorporated.”

Her face paled again. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “What?”

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