Page 66 of Cunning Lies
“Good. You’re learning.”
The drive over to the sushi restaurant has my stomach tumbling like a cocktail shaker, and when Kenzo sees my face, he tilts his head at my lap. I put my hands in my underwear, my clit swelling with blood.
“You’re giving everyone a show lately, aren’t you?” he asks. His eyes stay focused on the road, but his cock tents his pants. My cheeks redden.
This is going to be a long family dinner.
The Cosmopolitan looms like a ladder leading up to the heavens, and as soon as we’re inside, my guts churn like butter. We take the elevator to the fourth floor and walk a short distance toMeiyo,a Japanese restaurant, one that has a protection racket with the Endo-kai.
The hostess takes us to a closed room in the back of the restaurant. Water ripples over the greenish-gray stones lining the back wall. Wooden beams hang down from wires, with little bulbs in round glass containers, lighting the space. The room is large, but empty of people. It’s reserved for us. In any other situation, I’d take it as a welcome perk, but with Kenzo’s family, it seems like a way to keep the mafia out of the restaurant’s regular business.
Uncle Jay isn’t here yet, but a line of yakuza enter the room and it’s a chaotic string of bows, hugs, and shouts. Kenzo greets every person, and I follow behind him.
“Vi!” Tomo says, shaking my hand and pulling me into a hug. “Thanks for making my son put together something nice for once.”
“Urusai!” Kenzo cuts in. “You noisy bastard.”
“You’re one to talk!”
They break out into laughter. A woman with dyed blond hair and brown eyes squeezes Tomo’s arm. Though we met briefly, I remember her from the wedding—Gracie, Tomo’s wife and Kenzo’s adoptive mother. Cherry stands behind the two of them.
“You are as beautiful as ever,” Gracie says to me. “And Tomo’s right. We love an excuse to get together like this.”
“Get us out of the fucking business for once,” Niko chimes in. “Unless this is actually about business.”
My stomach curls. Niko’s sitting at the far end of the table, with an expression on the verge of repulsion. His black eyes, dotted with uneven blue patches, are menacing and unpredictable. He makes me uneasy, and I’m not sure why. He’s muscular, but he’s not tatted like the rest of the yakuza, and that almost makes him seemmoreforeboding. He’s going against tradition. What else is he willing to go against?
My eyes travel to the man next to Niko—the round, shaved head with traditional tattoos on his neck and chest. Kenzo nods, acknowledging my gaze.
“You met Dice, yeah?” he asks.
I nod. “Nice to see you again, Dice,” I say. But Dice never looks up from his drink. Ronin bows to Kenzo, and Kenzo shakes his hand.
“Welcome to the family dinners,” Kenzo says.
“Thank you,” Ronin says. Kenzo’s posture stiffens slightly, and I wonder if he invited Ronin, or if Tomo did it for him.
Ronin turns to me. “Vi.”
“Hi,” I say. Then I wave like an idiot. I smack my forehead. Who waves at their own family at a family dinner?
We take our seats and a server bows and hands us menus. She glides behind us as she pours green tea, the earthy aroma filling the room. I scan the table, then eye the door.
Where is Uncle Jay?I cross my fingers that he won’t show.
“They’ll tell my uncle where we are?” I ask Kenzo.
He whispers, “Do I need to turn on that remote?”
I flush, but the door flies open, and Uncle Jay walks in. A wrinkled suit, way too big for him, sits on his shoulders. He must’ve bought it at a thrift shop minutes ago. He waves his hand—the one with the chopped off pinky—and my cheeks flame. Kenzo stands to shake his hand, and the rest of the family does the same, even Gracie and Cherry. There’s a formality to it all, but so far, I’m relieved. No one has shot anyone yet. Uncle Jay hasn’t threatened anyone, and even if Kenzo doesn’t like Uncle Jay, he’s still acting respectful to him.
Uncle Jay gives me a side hug before finding his seat.
“How you doing, sweetheart?” he asks.
“Fine,” I blurt. “And you?”
“Better now,” he says. My throat dries at those words, but he opens up his menu like it’s nothing. He asks Tomo about the different food items, and eventually, the two of them start joking with each other, and it’s like Uncle Jay was never forced to chop off his own finger. Like he never lost a son to the yakuza.
