Page 21 of Cunning Lies
I’ve got this,I coach myself. Kenzo grins, and I glance over at Uncle Jay and Patrick, my only family in this world. I nod to them, and they both give me the thumbs up.
No,I correct myself.We’ve got this.
I follow along, and by the time we both say those two magical words, binding our union in front of a room full of strangers, my stomach flips.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant says.
Kenzo reaches for me. “Last chance to run,” he whispers.
I press my lips to his, shutting him up.
Too late.
At first, his tongue is smooth and penetrating, twisting his way into my mouth like a root taking hold in the soil, but then his hand grips my throat. My stomach tightens and my eyes widen. His gaze is focused on me, and his pure aggression takes hold of my entire being. Heat scorches between my legs, and I slip a hand into his pocket, searching for something—anything to remind me that this isn’t real love—it’s a job, nothing more. I find a little packet and clutch it in my palm. A deep guttural moan erupts from his throat as he pushes back from me, breaking our kiss, but he keeps his hold firm on my neck, looking deep into my eyes. I can’t tell if he knows that I took whatever drug this is, or if thinks I’m being dirty with him.
The shouts and cheers from the guests fill my ears, and I remember that we’re in front of a crowd of people. Fire burns in Kenzo’s brown eyes as they rove over me. It’s like he thinks he finally has me in his trap. But I disagree.
Now, you’re mine, Kenzo.
He helps me stand, then links an arm around mine and guides me down the aisle. Everyone is standing for us again, their cheers ringing in my ears. It’s overwhelming to think that this many people dropped everything to come to a last-minute wedding for the yakuza. Is everyone afraid of the Endo-kai? Or just me?
Out in the lobby, a gray-haired man lifts both of his hands. “One of my kids is finally married,” he shouts as he slaps Kenzo on the back. “Marriage looks good on you, Kenzo-kun.”
Kenzo smirks, then introduces the gray-haired man as his adoptive father and boss, Tomo. Then, the two of them break off to the side in hushed conversation. Cherry joins them, reminding me of my menstrual mortification earlier, and I die a little inside. The man with bluish-black eyes breaks into the conversation too, and a tall boulder of a man with a shaved head and tattoos covering his neck, stands beside them, like a shield.
Uncle Jay and Patrick fuss over the names of the important yakuza members in that conversation, and I clue them in on Cherry’s name, but I’m so flustered that the rest of the conversation goes over my head. They smile and joke like we’re a typical family at anormalwedding, but I know better. They’re taking stock of the crowd, planning their own mini cons.
Uncle Jay turns to my side, a slightly sour expression on his face.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks.
It’s not until then that I realize I’m sneering. Every so often, I’ll have moments like this—remembering that I was raised by a distant uncle who tricks people into giving him money, and how I find his targetsfor him—and I remember how I’m an awful human being. And this is exactly like that. Even if the Endo-kai are criminals too, it isn’trightbeing a part of this huge celebration when it’s just for show.
After all, this is,by far,the stupidest, brashest decision we’ve made.This is the yakuza.They’re slick enough to infiltrate corporations and deadly enough to control an entire city with their drugs. We shouldn’t have even considered this job.
But I calm that nervous tension boiling inside of me by reminding myself that our cons—Kenzo included—are greedy. They don’t deserve their money, and Uncle Jay, Patrick, and I have worked for too long and too hard to let an opportunity like this go to waste.
Wewillget our dream house. Then, we’ll never have to do this again.
But we’re still way out of our league.
“Sorry,” I say, stiffening. “A little nervous, I guess.”
“Don’t forget: you’re doing this forus,sweetheart,” Uncle Jay says. “We had no other choice.”
My stomach drops, my mind jumping back to watching Kenzo shoot that man in the motel room. How he held me like he owned me, yet reminded me repeatedly that Ididhave a choice.
You don’t have to pay for your uncle’s debts,he had said.
A part of me wonders if this job has nothing to do with our dream house or retirement. Knowing Uncle Jay, he’s got too much energy to give conning up, especially if he gets a taste of real money.
But I wave that thought away. We’re so close; there’s no reason for Uncle Jay to lie. And Kenzo is right. I do have a choice, and I choose to be here. I have to accept everything that’s given to me so that I can finish the job for our family.
Then, like a powerful, ancient demon, Kenzo wraps his arms around me, his touch suffocating and purposeful, like he knows exactly how to assert his dominance over me. I instantly flush.
“The reception is in the promenade,” he says, scrutinizing me. “You like fish, right?”
CHAPTER8
