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Ross said, “Sending her to whore for the Yakuza is the same as killing her.”
“Prostitution is a noble profession in Japan, you know.”
It was a lucky thing Manny had cleared out the restaurant to have this conversation. They were dining alone, the whole kitchen staff waiting patiently for their next order. The waitress stood far back near the kitchen, her eyes focused on a point above Manny’s head. She was ready to jump at the slightest signal. Her hands were folded before her.
Not even Roman would have done that in Florin.
Or could have.
But the gangs of these big cities played a different game from his brothers in the mountains of Virginia. Both sets might deal in the shadows, but they were not the same. The Yakuza were ruthless— Manny knew that. Ross wondered what would happen to Angel.
“Christ,” he muttered, patting his pocket for a cigarette.
“Forgive me,” Mangjeol said. As quickly as he had brought up the subject, he was now retreating. “I was wrong to ask your help.”
“Good luck with it, Manny. I mean that. I’m sorry.”
Mangjeol’s eyes shuttered. “You are a good friend to me, Ross-kun. I hope that when you return to Tokyo, it will be in better circumstances.”
“Me, too.” Ross hesitated. “Look…about the girl…”
“Nevermind her.” Manny handed him his personal engraved lighter. “Life is full of surprises. I’m sure I will think of something to take care of this problem.”
Angel wokeup with a man in her room. Asian— like all of them. He was dressed up. Literally in a suit. They must have put something in the ramen noodles the night before, because Angel found she couldn’t move a muscle. She watched the strange man approach the bed.
He was handsome, but his eyes were cold and scary. Like Poboy’s. His gaze traveled up her body, lingering on her pussy.
Angel tried to move, speak, anything. But she just lay there, frozen. If he wanted to rape her, he could have done it easy. He would probably rape her. Rape her, then kill her…Torture her slowly. Stickthingsinside her pussy. Choke her with a belt. All the threats Poboy ever made suddenly seemed possible— but she didn’t know this evil man, and she had at least known Poboy.
She could do nothing. She tried to scream, but her voice locked.
The man reached for the bed.
God.
Years later she would think of that moment and break out in cold sweat. Turned out there was some things worse than Poboy.
With a calm expression the man put a hand on her breast and squeezed. His thumb screwed into her stiff nipple. Angel shut her eyes.
“Angel, today is your lucky day.”
It was the first time she’d heard English since waking up. Angel’s eyes flew open. He stared down at her with the same non-expression expression. She put every ounce of strength into one word.
“Why?”
“Because I have decided not to kill you.”
In her right mind she would have screamed the whole place down and fought. By that time she had worked out what kind of place she was in. She knew what some of the noises meant. She would have to fight when her turn came— stand on her tens and fight. No way was she becoming someone’s trick without a fight.
But she just lay there, unable tomove.
“F…fuck you.”
He pinched her chin. “You will learn I don’t tolerate rudeness. If you speak like that again, I will make the guard come in here and break bones.”
Her throat locked. She wanted to spit on him, but he might actually shoot her with that gun at his waist.Fuck.
“I don’t like to hit females. Let’s try something different.” He reached into his pocket and took out a syringe. Arranging her lifeless arm in the right position, he shot a liquid from the syringe into her veins.
