Page 51 of Shifting Gears

Touma looked over at me as Regan cried harder into his shirt.

“Watch her! This can’t wait. I’ll explain later!” I yelled as I took off toward the door, grabbing my keys. I tugged on my shoes as I ran outside to my car.

I punched in the address on my phone from the business card, and gassed it out of the garage. I barely kept my focus on the road as I traveled, my mind occupied by thoughts that had my anguish and rage mixing into a dangerous cocktail.

I should have never let Raven make that deal in the first place. But I was so wrapped up in our father’s death and threw myself into the dojo and the students he had left behind that I let Raven do whatever she thought was best outside of it.

I might not have had a direct hand on what had happened to her, but maybe if she hadn’t felt like it was all on her, she would have never even agreed to the deal with Kaito.

I hit the steering wheel and screamed as I slammed on the brakes for a red light.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry, sister!” I cried out, tears threatening to overtake me as I waited at this stupid light for it to turn green.

Keep it together. Remember, find the guy who did this to her and make him pay.

I sucked in a few deep breaths, calming my emotions while I repeated that mantra in my mind.

I cruised down the docks at faster speeds than I should go and whipped it around the corner of a warehouse. I stared out the windshield in shock.

I can’t believe it.

Luck must have believed in karma because the exact person I had come here to search for was walking in the middle of the road. There was no mistaking those tattoos on his arms.

I came to an abrupt halt in front of him. I grabbed the photo and paused as I glanced at my passenger seat before deciding to lean over and grab my hidden tanto. I tucked the short blade into the back belt loop of my pants. Then I flung open the driver’s door and stood up, coming face-to-face with the man I suspected was my sister’s killer.

He faced me, and I could see he was observing my every move.

He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Bingo. That reaction could only mean he knew who my sister was beyond just that night at the ring. I looked enough like my sister, to the point that our childhood photos usually got mixed up until we were around ten years old. So, if him seeing me caused this kind of reaction, there was zero doubt in my mind about what I was about to do next.

I stepped around the door and over in front of him.

“Is this you?” I asked as I held out the folded photo toward him.

He raised an eyebrow but still grabbed the photo. I knew it was him. His tattoos were obviously the same ones in the picture. I wasn’t actually waiting for a reply. I simply needed his focus on something else.

And as he looked down and unfolded the photo, I pounced on my opening. I gripped the hilt of the Japanese dagger and yanked it from its sheath, swinging it at his head.

The blade was so close that it sliced through the air right in front of his nose as he jerked his body backward to avoid the swing.

Dammit! Again!

I went to flip the blade and do a back slash as I lunged forward, but he did something I’d never expected. He straight-up tackled me onto the hood of my car, knocking the wind out of my lungs. He flipped me onto my chest, then took his hand and grabbed my wrist holding the knife.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Drop it,” he growled as he kept his weight firmly pressed against my body, preventing my lungs from being able to take in enough air.

I gasped as I tried to fight him off, but the more I struggled, the faster I realized I would pass out before I could ever get my hand out of his grasp. I released the blade, and it slid off the hood and fell to the ground with a sharpclangas the metal hit concrete.

“Don’t try some stupid shit again,” he said in my ear before I felt his weight disappear.

He yanked me off the hood and threw me to the ground; I rolled onto my butt, raised my fists, bent a leg, and prepared for another attack.

But he wasn’t looking right at me. He was glancing down at the opened photo that was still in his hand.

“Where did you get this?” he said as his eyes turned toward me.

“Why? Can’t handle the face of the woman you killed looking at you again?” I snapped.

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