I had to get out of here before he woke, or he would alert the other guards. This was my only chance at freedom. I could not fail.
Jiro had been assigned to guard my private chambers a week ago. In time, I’d worn him down, gotten through his defenses. He was the first of my father’s guards to ever defy him. The first guard to want me more than he feared my father. He would likely pay for that mistake with his life.
I rose from the floor and paused, glancing down at him. Blood oozed down the side of his head from where I’d struck him with the bookend. Poor Jiro. He would not live to see another day. My father would make sure of that. His sacrifice would mean my freedom. But I couldn’t let myself feel guilt for what he’d done.
I searched him for weapons, stealing his knife, a fighting staff, and two throwing stars. I might need the weapons in my escape. Leaving Jiro lying there, I darted toward the door and slipped out into the hallway. Wiping the disgusting taste of his mouth from my lips, and pushing the repulsive feel of his hands from my mind, I went into survival mode. It was time to become a shadow warrior.
So that was what I became. A shadow. A ghost.
I snuck away silently, still dressed in my black fighting gear. I crept down the stairs, invisible, and slipped out into the night. I climbed into the back of my father’s big black truck and hid in the darkness, waiting. Neither my father nor his two men noticed me as they climbed in and drove away.
And now, I huddled down in the bed of the truck. A stowaway. As we sped down the road.
So close to freedom.
I could taste it.
Smell it.
Feel it.
Freedom.
I am the daughter of Katashi Yamamoto. My father is Lord of the Black Dragons. And if you haven’t heard of the Black Dragons…they are one of the most powerful gangs in Augusta. One of the deadliest.
My father was a powerful Japanese shinobi who left Japan to come to America ten years ago. As a shinobi, he was trained in the old ways of unconventional warfare, guerrilla warfare, and espionage. He was a true ninja, a ninjutsu fighter, a cruel and very dangerous man. He’s now a criminal in America, at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list. A shadow warrior who continuously eludes capture, he has never come close to being caught. People fear my father. But no one fears him more than I do.
Since his arrival in America, my father has amassed a large following, all of whom are taught to become powerful fighters like him. Ninjas. In Japan, they are called shinobi. But here in America, they are ninjas. I too have been trained in ninjutsu. I am a kunoichi, a female ninja. I know how to defend myself. My father made sure of that. I also know judo, jujutsu, kendo, and a mixture of several other martial arts. Being the daughter of such a powerful man requires that I know how to protect myself from my father’s enemies.
I was born in Japan to a beautiful Indian woman named Reena Anand. Mama was a general surgeon at a local hospital who had worked hard to get her college degree and raise me on her own. Mama and I had been as close as any mother and daughter could be. We did everything together, until my father stole me away at the age of sixteen, and whisked me off to America, forcing me to become a shadow warrior. Before then, I hadn’t even known whom my father was. All my mother had ever told me about him was that he was gone from our lives, and that I would likely never meet him.
I haven’t seen or heard from my mother since. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.
Thinking of her now made my heart pinch. Oh Mama. I miss you so much.
Emotion clogged my throat. Tears burned my eyes.
Stop it, Nishi. Concentrate on escaping. You can get emotional later.
I drew in a ragged breath, forcing myself to be strong.
For the past eight years, I have been a virtual prisoner of the Black Dragons, kept locked up tight, and doing whatever “duties” my father ordered. I have daily training sessions where I am forced to fight against other Black Dragon members, but that’s the only “activity” I am allowed outside of my room. I have guards surrounding me twenty-four/seven. Guards who aren’t allowed to touch me or even interact with me in any way. At twenty-four, I have never been kissed, yet alone been made love to by a man. I’ve never even experienced a man’s touch. Well, until tonight, anyway. Now I can say I’ve felt a man’s repulsive kiss and disgusting touch. And I didn’t like it at all. I guess I haven’t been missing much.
And that little secret I’d learned earlier? Previously unbeknownst to me, my father had made plans to auction me off to the highest bidder, and the gang who won me would also win an alliance with the Black Dragons. Last week, my father had forced me to endure a “photoshoot” where a photographer had taken various photographs of me in “sexy” positions. Though I’d been uncomfortable and suspicious of the entire thing, I hadn’t discovered until tonight exactly what the photos were for. Last night, my father had apparently conducted a private online auction where he had sold my virginity to the highest bidder, using those photos to lure men in.
Malik of the Rapsters had won. He’d even outbid the Flesh King, Enrique Vasquez.
Tonight during fight practice, I’d learned that not only had Malik won me in the auction, but that he also required that the “exchange” be official, and that we had a legal wedding.
My father had sold me to gain more power. And on Friday night, I was to be married off to Malik of the Rapsters, creating an alliance between the two gangs.
I was nothing more than a pawn to my father. A tool.
That was why he’d stolen me away from my mother in the middle of the night eight years ago.
Not because he loved me and wanted me in his life.
Because he wanted to use me to gain more power.
Now I understood why my father kept men away from me. He’d needed me to be “pure” so he could do this deal with Malik. I was the prized virgin. A rarity. To be sold, traded off for more power.
My father’s men refer to me as “Princess Nishi” and I hate it. They all treat me like a fragile glass figurine, except in the fighting ring. Then, I’m just another Black Dragon, someone to beat on. I may be small at five-foot-two, but I’m not fragile in the least. And I sure don’t feel like a princess. I haven’t felt “feminine” in eight years. But neither one of the personas of Princess Nishi or Black Dragon defines me. Deep inside, I’m just a scared girl who wants out.
I miss my mother. I want my freedom.
I hate my father.
The members of my father’s gang are a mix of several different countries and nationalities: Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Tai, Indian, Vietnamese, and a few others. They are all Asian descendants, which is a requirement to be a member of the Black Dragons. Discriminatory? Yes, definitely. But so are the other gangs. The Rapsters are all African American. The Sureños are all Mexican. There are Russian and German gangs that I don’t know the names of, and other, lesser known, smaller gangs that discriminate against the other nationalities. In fact, the Spartans are the only gang where being a certain race or nationality isn’t a requirement. To become a Spartan, you simply have to know how to fight. And fight dirty. The gangs in Augusta all hate each other. And they all want to rule. They all want to be the kings of Augusta. The gangs are constantly making deals and talking about allying with each other in an attempt to become more powerful. To join forces with another gang would create more strength for both sides. So there is always talk of two gangs joining up…
And now an alliance was about to take place. With me as the pawn. I had been purchased by Malik, and on Friday, I would become his wife.
Not if I could help it.
I was escaping. Right now.
There was no way in hell I was going to allow myself to be handed over to Malik. I’d gotten a good look at him a few weeks ago when he’d come to visit with my father. Malik was a hulking, tattooed African American man who scared the living crap out of me. The very idea of letting Malik touch me in any way repulsed me. All it took was one glimpse into those cold eyes
to know he was as cruel as my father. I was not about to be shackled to that monster for the rest of my life.
I wasn’t supposed to know about the auction or the arranged marriage—probably so I wouldn’t attempt to escape like I was doing right now—but I had a secret of my own that even my father didn’t know about.
I could speak English. I was multi-lingual. Mama had made sure I learned not only her native language of Hindi, but also my father’s language of Japanese, and she’d wanted me to know English as well. As a result, my English was as good as my Hindi and my Japanese. Perhaps better.
My father thought I could only speak Hindi and Japanese. And I let him think that. No one in his gang knew I could speak English. Eavesdropping on conversations became a game to me. No one knew I understood what they were saying. I was a good spy.
And tonight my little secret was finally paying off. All those years of eavesdropping would now help me to earn my freedom. My mother had been right to teach me English. If she hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have discovered my father’s plan to hand me over to Malik on Friday.
Thank you, Mama.
I was not marrying Malik of the Rapsters.
I shuddered in fear.
I would chose the man who became my first lover. Me. No one else got to make that decision.
Tonight, I had finally outwitted my father. I had escaped my prison. I was done being his slave. His pawn. From this day forward, Nishi only did what Nishi wanted to do.
And right now, hunkering down in the back of the truck, I wanted my freedom. Desperately.
I was almost free.
I was not marrying that monster Malik.
CHAPTER TWO
Logan
“Hey, I’m heading into Eatonton to get a few groceries. Want to come along?”
Noah glanced up from his tech desk. “Uh, no thanks. I’m in the middle of something.” He turned away, obviously distracted. As my dreg partner, Noah shared a physical, emotional, and spiritual connection with me. All dregs had this bond with their partners. It was a connection unlike any other on earth. Partly because of the experiments and the injections that had been forced upon us, and partly because of our forced close confinement over the years. All of the dregs shared this deep bond between their partners that could only be broken if one of them died.
Noah was not only my dreg partner, but also my best friend. He always had my back, and I always had his.
Noah had a tendency to get so involved in his tech stuff that it was sometimes difficult to pull him away from it. So I shrugged and left, heading down the corridor into the maze. Minutes later, I climbed into my truck and headed through the dark forest into Eatonton alone.
Nate and Alissa had left the underground maze a week ago. Tony had moved in with Grace and her foster kids shortly thereafter. Just yesterday, Grace had received the court’s order allowing her to take her foster children out of Georgia. Tony had sent all of us a text saying that they were in the process of packing and preparing to leave. Once they left Georgia, it might be a while before we saw them again.
Now it was just me, Noah, Luke, and Ryan at the underground maze beneath the old plantation home deep in the woods. A year ago, nine of us had escaped our own slaughter. Now less than half of us remained at the maze. One by one, my dreg brothers had fallen in love and left. Except for Gordon, who’d been killed by the Rapsters gang. A good guy, Gordon was one of the best. I still missed him.
It was starting to get lonely around here. Luke and Ryan always went out and found comfort/entertainment in the arms of different women. But Noah and I both refrained from such activities. That wasn’t us and never had been. I hadn’t touched a woman since Himari died. I hadn’t met a woman who even interested me in that time. Seven years was a long time to remain celibate. But I would never forget how amazing it was to love a woman. If I was ever fortunate enough to meet a woman again, if I was ever fortunate enough to fall in love again, I would take the ultimate care with her. Treat her with love and respect. Cherish her—protect her—always. Not that I was likely to find someone hiding out as I did down in the maze.
But a guy could dream, right? I’d witnessed Tracker, then Jacob, Nate, and now Tony all fall in love. I was happy for them. They all deserved it.
But damn if it didn’t make me feel lonely. I would give anything to find true love like that. To find a girl who loved me unconditionally. A girl who didn’t care about my past or what I’d done. A girl who didn’t care about my imperfections such as my missing ear and my partial deafness, or my PTSD. A girl who simply loved me for me.
Dream on, buddy. Like that’s ever going to happen. You’re a dreg.
And there was the problem. If I had been allowed to choose what I wanted to be when I grew up, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen to be a dreg.
A physical therapist? Yes, that was definitely me. I liked helping others. I was a trained physical therapist who enjoyed helping other soldiers recover from war injuries. It totally fit my personality. That was why I was called The Trainer. That and my ability to “train” myself to learn any language in a matter of minutes.
But the fighting. The killing. The violence...
And the stigma of a “bad, dangerous man”…
No. Just no.
Sure, I could be dangerous. And I’d done bad things. I was a trained soldier. But it had been forced upon me at an early age, and over the years, I’d learned to cope. To adjust. To shut myself off when necessary.
Like the other dregs, I had learned to become a machine. Able to turn my feelings off or on as needed. In order to survive what we’d been forced into, I learned at times to not feel anything at all. To be cold and ruthless.
A monster.
I hated that part of myself and wished it didn’t exist. But it was something I’d had to become in order to survive, and I couldn’t change that.
Underneath, I was a sensitive guy. I didn’t like seeing others hurt or being the cause of their hurt. I believed in peace and love and a world where everyone got along.
The world was a far cry from that. But I would do whatever I could to help make the world a better place.
Falling in love was probably not in my cards any time soon. I was a dreg. I couldn’t endanger another woman like I’d done to Himari. I refused to.
I reached Eatonton a half hour later and headed for the all-night convenience store. Pulling my hoodie up over my head to help obscure my features, I went inside to do my shopping. I was the only customer in the store. I finished my shopping quickly and paid for my purchases.
Then I headed for the gas pumps to fill up my truck, having no idea that when I drove away several minutes later, everything was about to change.
And my life would never be the same again.
CHAPTER THREE
Nishi
I had been hiding in the back of my father’s truck for about an hour and a half before the vehicle slowed, entering a small town. Finally…
The early-November nights were cold here in north Georgia, dropping down into the mid to low thirties at times. I was wearing black stretch pants, a black cotton T-shirt, and a lightweight, black windbreaker, with black Turf martial arts shoes. Black was essential to hide, but it didn’t offer protection from the cold, and I had no coat. I had been shivering, my teeth silently chattering for the past hour as the cool wind whipped past me in the back of the truck. I had burrowed close to the metal bed of the truck, trying to keep out of the wind for the entire drive.
Tonight, my father and his thugs were on the hunt for dregs. I had overheard him talking to Katsu and Ling, his two right-hand men, about going out to “scout for the dregs”, and that had given me the idea to climb into the truck and seize the opportunity to escape. I didn’t know anything about the dregs, other than the rumors I’d overhead. I hadn’t really believed that they were real. But if my father was scouting for them, then they must be real. He wouldn’t chase after ghosts.
The truck hit a bump as it turned a corner, and I boun
ced up, my knees crashing back down into the bed as I landed. I gritted my teeth, knowing I would have bruised knees later. It was truly a miracle that we’d traveled this far without anyone discovering me in the back of the truck.
I needed to get out of the truck as soon as it stopped. If my father discovered me back here, I didn’t even want to contemplate how he might punish me. Any punishment inflicted by my father was bound to be painful. Unforgettable.
My father always traveled with his two right-hand men. Most of the time, he drove himself. Other times, he allowed either Katsu or Ling to drive. Tonight my father drove, while Katsu sat in the front passenger’s seat, and Ling sat in the back.
Street lights shone down, illuminating me as my father drove the vehicle into a gas station. I pressed myself up against the corner of the truck behind the passenger’s side, trying to hide. He stopped the vehicle and turned it off next to a pump. The passenger’s side door flew open and Katsu stepped out. I held my breath, waiting, praying he wouldn’t see me.
Katsu went to the pump and began fueling up.
I held as still as possible, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
If Katsu saw me, I was doomed.
Be still, little mouse. Don’t move or the cat will pounce.
Seconds ticked by. Then minutes.
I remained completely still. Like a mouse. I didn’t move one tiny bit.
I didn’t make a sound.
Finally, the gas pump shut off, and Katsu hung the nozzle back on its hook. Then he went back to the passenger’s side and pulled open the door.
I continued to hold my breath until he climbed inside and pulled the door closed behind him.
The truck rumbled to life again.
If I was going to escape, now was my chance. But if I moved, they might see me.
The truck started to pull forward, then rocked to a halt. Raised voices reached my ears. What were they arguing about?
I cautiously lifted my head, peering into the back of the truck. Ling held a manila file folder that he was shoving at Katsu, who appeared to be yelling at him. My father waved an arm at Ling, motioning to the file.
The Trainer (military romantic suspense) (The Dregs Book 5) Page 2
