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Pim stood with her chin high and chest barely moving. She stared at me with trust even while fear etched her face.
I hated, positively hated, she was in danger yet again. She’d lived through enough. She shouldn’t have to put up with yet more bullshit all because she’d chosen to love me.
What a stupid, terrible choice on her part.
I’m so sorry, Pim.
Storming forward, I made sure to enunciate clearly and with authority. “Let her go, and we’ll do what is necessary.”
Fight until one of us is dead.
More men materialized from the shadows around the room, standing beside their leader. Seven in total. Seven plus Kunio. Once again, an uneven fight against the Chinmoku.
They were never ones for equal odds.
That was how they destroyed other gangs, took over turfs, and created a reputation of bloodthirsty inhumanity.
And once upon a time, I’d fought for them.
I’d been so fucking naïve and too wrapped in my obsessions to care.
This was my karma.
I deserved it.
But Pim didn’t.
“You disappointed us.” Kunio ran his hands over his bald head, stroking his tattoos. “You know how we hate to be disappointed, Miki-san.”
Oh, I knew.
I’d seen their disappointment first-hand.
I’d smelled their disappointment from my father and brother burning.
Even though the Chinmoku ran illegal operations, trafficked women, manufactured drugs, and corrupted everything they could get their hands on, their faction wasn’t huge.
They didn’t trust easily and only welcomed the tried and proven to join their ranks.
When I’d been invited into their family, there’d been seventy-nine fully fledged members. That number might’ve grown over the past decade, but I had no doubt if Kunio only brought seven men with him, then they were seven of his best.
Seven men who liked to inflict agony on others in unique and imaginative ways.
Kunio dragged a finger down Pim’s arm.
She hissed but remained steadfast and silently seething.
“I approve of your taste in women. Perhaps, instead of killing her, we’ll make her one of us.”
The thought of Pim belonging to the Chinmoku enraged me to the point of blacking out and killing everyone in my path.
She would never again belong to anyone. Especially them.
Hatred lodged in my throat. “Let her go.”
“As I said before—you’re not in a position to give instruction.” Kunio looked at his men.
They were all identical replicas with the Chinmoku uniform of black trousers and t-shirt, black bandana, and red fingerless gloves.
Long ago, the leader had told me they wore red gloves to symbolise the blood they were about to shed. Already bathing their flesh in the life force of their enemy.
I’d once worn a pair of those gloves.
Now, I wanted to cut off their hands.
Scanning the men, I took note of the many different weapons strapped to their bodies—some favoured simple guns while others had knives buckled to their legs and back. They might wear the same wardrobe, but when it came to their chosen method of killing? Anything was permitted.
Where the fuck was Selix?
My staff?
How had the Chinmoku taken custody of my ship without my goddamn knowledge?
Folding his hands in front of him, Kunio cocked his head. The atmosphere changed from poised to prepared.
I’d once been on the other side and understood what that subtle shift meant.
This was never meant to be a conversation of my betrayal and punishment. This wasn’t a drawn-out negotiation for Pim’s life or mine.
This was an extermination.
My limbs loosened, my knees ready to unlock and fight at a second’s notice.
Kunio smiled. “You know as well as I do how this night will end. Your woman is now ours to do with as we please. Your life is now ours for your disobedience. Your very existence belongs to us. Tonight, we collect.”
My heart rate slowed. My eyes sharpened. My breathing shallowed.
Kunio looked at the black-shrouded man beside him. There was no nod, no command, no signal.
But it didn’t matter.
My room went from silent threat to all-out homicidal war.
Four men pounced on me at once.
Their blows struck my head, my chest, my back, my kidneys.
Their swiftness put me on the back foot even though I’d seen it coming.
I was drained from three bouts of sex.
I was tired from shame and worry.
I was livid at Pim’s imprisonment.
I was too many things and not focused.
Emotion should never be part of a fight.
First rule of combat: the mind must be pure of all thoughts. The body vacant apart from the dance of violence.
An uppercut shot stars into my vision, my jaw howling under vicious knuckles.
And that was the last invitation I needed to lose myself.
I bellowed in fury, hunkering down to become more than me, more than human, more dragon than animal, more monster than man.
It’d been too long since I’d fought to maim. I’d grown too used to holding back, of locking down my true nature.
The four Chinmoku didn’t care.
They hit and kicked and struck.
Each punishment I deserved as I was too slow to drop my pretences and meet them beast to beast. But as agony flared and panic swelled and Pim screamed my name, I sank the final distance and found the mindlessness of precision.
