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I settled into a seat near the back, so I could keep an eye out on anyone who was coming or going.
His watching had become more and more intense as the anniversary of my sister's death approached. Nowadays, I walked home with pepper spray balled in my fist, even on nights I knew I was alone.
I hadn't had to use it yet, and I prayed it never came to that.
Half an hour later, the bus trundled to a stop two blocks from my house.
I wrapped my scarf around my neck and hurried home. The icy wind bit through my thin jacket and I cursed myself for leaving my sweater in the store room.
My hands were freezing, so I tucked them under my arms, wishing I could sink into the cozy warmth of my bed. But I had to make sure that everything was okay at home. I needed to check on mom.
As I walked the familiar streets leading to my house, the dim street lights cast long shadows ahead of me. I kept looking behind me, making sure no one was following me. My heart pounded in my chest and I clutched my pepper spray tightly in my hand.
The thought of facing Harris again sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't forget how he looked at the funeral. The dead expression on his face was as ominous as my sister's closed casket.
Rebecca wasn't the only one who died that night. My mother, me, and even Harris. The sweet guy she'd been dating since high school was gone and had been replaced by someone twisted and dark.
I shuddered at the memory as I fumbled with my keys. Another night that I got home safely. I didn't take it for granted.
The warmth enveloped me as I crossed the threshold into our tiny bungalow, sandwiched between similarly run-down homes on a crowded street.
It was small, and the wooden floors creaked beneath my feet, but it was ours. Every detail reminded me of the laughter and love we used to share. How quickly things shifted, I thought as I hung my coat on the rack. I wondered what Rebecca would say if she could see us now.
I checked in on Mom before heading upstairs. I found her asleep on the sofa, TV blaring some sitcom. "Mom!" I whispered loudly. "Come on, you can sleep in your bed."
She mumbled something incoherent and waved me away.
I shook my head and gently helped her stand, guiding her upstairs to her bedroom. She'd become so frail from barely eating I could almost carry her to bed. She was wasting away from grief and no matter what I did, nothing seemed to help.
Once she was comfortable, I tiptoed out without turning on any lights so she wouldn't wake up again.
After checking all the doors and windows were locked, I climbed the narrow staircase to my own room. I kicked off my shoes and crawled beneath the covers, pulling my phone closer to read the messages from my friend.
> sent from Kelsey. She was the only one who actually thought to check up on me. It's funny how something like a death in the family shows you who your truest friends really are.
> I responded, knowing I probably wouldn't get a response until tomorrow morning. Though we spent the first two semesters of college together, she transferred to Northeastern University two years ago, but she visited often enough.
I threw my phone down on my bedside table and pulled the covers over my head. I hoped that if I dreamed of Rebecca, the dreams would at least be happy.
Chapter two
Sasuke
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Holy fuck, California wasa hell of a lot colder than I was expecting. Even in January, I didn't expect it to be like this.
I shivered in my leather jacket as I waited for my ride. The inside of the airport was too crowded and noisy - I'd rather be cold than surrounded by hundreds of people. Alone out here was safer.
I glanced at my phone. It was three am in San Francisco. I still had a few hours' drive north from here to get closer to my target.
Harris Cheng.
I had every bit of information that our best men could dig up on him in a file on my phone. This dipshit thought he could mess with the Yakuza syndicates and get away with it? Well, now he was going to pay with his life.
A black SUV pulled up and flashed its lights. My ride.
I grabbed my bag and climbed into the vehicle.
