But the choices each had made put her in his crosshairs. Montri wanted her dead, and who better for the task than his personal assassin, the man who knew her better than anyone else. This man who wasn’t her lover exactly, this man she was…dating? Had dated? Was he now her enemy? Was she now his—target?
She heard footsteps behind her. A deliberate scuff of heels on the paving stones. She opened her eyes, turned her head. Sure enough, it was Kannon. He looked down at her, eyes concealed behind her reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.
“How did you find me?” she asked, then nixed the question. “Never mind, you’re not Asia’s top manhunter for nothing. Did Montri send you to kill me?”
“Yes.” His voice was flat.
Weird that she wasn’t scared. Kannon never had scared her, even now when he was threatening to kill her—again. “And are you going to?”
He didn’t answer, his gaze traversing the small area. “No guards?”
She glanced at the yellow dog that had followed her in. “Meet your replacement.”
He adjusted his stance, and Gina knew it was to get a better view of the yard’s rear and side exits. A hit-man checking out his escape route. The dog, seeming to think he was relieved of his duty, dropped to his belly and rested his head on his paws. Apparently loyalty couldn’t be bought with a pile of leftover hors d’oeuvres.
At last he looked down at her. “You drew a line in the sand yesterday.”
“Montri did. I tried to erase it.”
“All you did was make him angry. Angry and paranoid.”
Her own anger at Montri for abandoning Tasanee was what had rode her through the confrontation with him. And what of it? She had no plan for rescuing her god-sister. Didn’t know who to turn to, now that the one man she could’ve gone to was set to kill her.
“And so he sent you out to earn the big bucks he pays you.”
“Revenge can be expensive.”
She exhaled the breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “Kannon, I’m not exactly the most patient of people. And you found me on my knees, already. As a final request, could you get on with it?”
Instead, he squatted beside her. The front of his jacket fell open and she glimpsed his gun inside. “You didn’t see your father when I brought you back from 70 Rai. You know what his health was. He rose from his chair and came to me like a new man. Carried you to the bed you woke up in. He only stumbled after lying you down. I got him into a chair and he asked me what had happened. I told him, and I knew he wanted me hurt for hitting you, which I understood. I’m a father, too. And it’s because I’m a father that I couldn’t let him do what I deserved. I need to stay alive for Zoe. My daughter’s a strong girl, but like Tasanee, isn’t ready to go it alone yet. Remember how your father was going to banish me? That hurt.”
What? Wounded pride? Was that it? “I thought you couldn’t feel pain.”
“I felt that.”
“You felt the pain of humiliation?”
He cut her a swift look, irritated. “No, I felt the pain of you not being there. All I’m telling you is that for someone who doesn’t know the pain of the sun or a knife or hot water, it felt like a miracle. I’m saying you make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.”
Gina definitely felt warmth surge through her. Hope. Excitement. Connection. “So you’re not going to kill me?”
Kannon gave her the same look of dry disbelief as on her phone pic. “You ever wondered why I told Brian I’d target you if he didn’t deliver up the killer of Matsuda’s son?”
“I’ve wondered that myself. I dunno, it was your way of showing how much you liked me,” she teased.
His lips curled into a quiet smile. “Actually, in a way, yes.”
“Now, this I got to hear,” she said.
“I took a look at Delta and I thought there was a lot to like about her. Maybe it was even true, as Brian said, that he loved her. But I saw you and I thought that there was someone a man might give his life for. So I figured between the two of you, Brian would do his damnedest.”
Someone a man might give his life for. And was he that man? “And if he hadn’t, what then?”
“Lucky for us, it didn’t come to that.”
Crap, what did she have to do to get a straight answer out of him?
“Okay, are you going to kill me or not?”
“Woman, I just told you. No. I’m not going to kill you.”
“There. Was that so hard?”
He glared at her. “Now I’m reconsidering.”
She grinned, and his frown deepened then relaxed. There was a shimmering between them, a lightening, and if it had been any other way between them, they’d be kissing right now, holding and being held. Kannon had chosen her over Montri, even if it meant making Montri his enemy.
“I guess I owe you,” she said.
“Big time.”
“What did you have in mind?”
If the look he gave her before was full of heat, the one now made her feel as if she were about to walk on burning coals—hot and dangerous and exhilarating. He wanted sex from her, and she was more than happy to give it to him. And if he still wanted more, well, then—could she share a life with him and Zoe?
Oh God, Zoe.
She gripped his arm. “What about Zoe? What does this mean for her?”
He grunted. “She’s safe, for now.”
“Does Montri knows where she’s at?” Gina persisted.
“Yes.”
“Then you can’t defy him, Kannon,” she said, looking into his eyes. “You’re a father. You can’t choose me over—”
“I choose both of you,” he interrupted, and reaching into his jacket pocket, produced a smartphone, offering it to her.
“What’s this?”
“It was Montri’s,” he explained. “That’s why I came to find you. He’s not going to be a problem anymore, and we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to save his daughter.”
Gina’s eyes widened on him. “Oh God, Kannon. You mean you…killed him?”
“No,” he replied. “I still owe him a great debt for sheltering Ryota and me from the American Yakuza. And how could I rob Tasanee of her father, even if he’s a poor one? Zoe would never forgive me.”
“So…where is he?” asked Gina.
“Don’t worry. He’s safe and sound with Lwin.”
Montri stood on the raised porch of the small riverside bungalow, glowering down at the huge mass of crocodiles that surrounded him. “You’re making a serious mistake holding me prisoner,” he growled at Lwin in Thai. “A serious fucking mistake.”
The old woman continued to stroke the snouts of her pets as she stood among them. “Don’t be silly, Alak. You’re free to go whenever you want. Just mind your step on the way out.”
“First thing Mr. Montri did when Ryota and I got him out was start drawing up a list of everyone he was going to have killed.” Kannon filled Gina in as they puttered through morning rush hour traffic. He pulled up to the rear bumper of a bright orange tuk-tuk that had just cut into his lane. That was his next vehicle, a tuk-tuk. He, Gina and Zoe could all fit and they’d always be one ahead of everything else on the road. “Before he even showed up at your father’s memorial he’d already managed to find out where several of them were. It was his intention to send me out to collect their heads as soon as he declared war. Wanted me to get things rolling, as it were.”
“You knew what he was up to?” asked Gina.
“Not until we were on the way to the service. In the car he handed me the files. Explained what he was going to do. If I’d known any sooner I would have tipped you off. Lucky for Tasanee you were able to handle the situation. Have to say I was very impressed.”
She retuned his compliment with a squinty-eyed look. “So impressed you couldn’t give me a sign you were still on my side?”
“So distrustful that you thought I had to?”
Gina blew out her breath. “Touché.”
And grinned. The cheek of her. A week without that grin and he’d felt himself drying up. He was going to bust if they didn’t get all this sorted out. Because after seven days, he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going through the rest of his life without her cheek.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Wakai was at the top of the list.”
“Yes.”
“Except you let him out on his own reconnaissance.”
“Yes, as per our agreement with Jarun. Hurt like hell to let him walk.” Kannon winced. “Or the equivalent thereof. Dropped him in the elevator and sent it to the penthouse.”
“That wasn’t very kind.”
“Wasn’t kindly disposed.”
“You going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You going to stop asking me a whole bunch of other questions so I can?”
“Technically—”
He cut her a look.
“Yes, I am. Right now.” And another grin.
He had to look away or he’d pull over and drag them together, and they wouldn’t be driving anywhere for a good long time. “Only way to save Tasanee is to get her from the rakshasas fast. Only way to make that happen is to have Wakai’s cooperation, and to get that, we’re going to need an ally both sides trust.”
“Who is?” she prodded. His turn to smile. Let her feel a little frustration, too.
Turning down a narrow lane he parked in the first available spot. “Jarun.”
Gina looked around. “Jarun? We’re practically in Chinatown. He lives here?”
“That’s what we’ll find out.” He opened his door. “Best to walk the rest of the way. Come on.”
Sempeng Lane was a very long, very narrow street that bisected Bangkok’s Chinatown, its dimensions so tight that in parts Kannon could have touched both sides by stretching his arms. The winding passage was flanked with small shops running in a seemingly endless procession, selling every conceivable kind of product—though mostly shoes, cheap jewelry and hair accessories—all at prices lower than anywhere else in the city.
“Wherever you’re taking me, looks like you’ve been there before,” said Gina, walking in Kannon’s wake. Even in the cramped quarters people made room for him.
“Not specifically,” he replied over his shoulder. “I’ve walked this cursed street a hundred times before.”
Gina’s brow wrinkled in surprise. “Really?”
“This is Zoe’s favorite place to shop,” he explained. “I used to chaperone her and Tasanee almost every weekend.”
“Isn’t that a little overprotective?”
“They wanted me to come. Seems they got better deals when I was around.”
Reaching a small stand selling freshly-squeezed pomegranate juice, Kannon paused, looking down at the old woman who was running the place. The woman stared with an apprehensive smile, her eyes swelling with fear. Like the waiter in the restaurant, he scared people, even when he didn’t intend to.
Luckily, he had Gina. “Hello, ma’am,” she said as soothingly as she could over the noise of the crowd. “We’re looking for—”
In the reflective corner of his sunglasses, he caught sight of Jarun. “There!” He charged into the crowd, scattering the densely packed shoppers like squawking chickens. Jarun had apparently been heading back to the stall with a large basketful of pomegranates when the two men had spotted each other, and now he was striding toward him like an irate rhino.
“You’ve crossed the line this time!” Jarun yelled, his face as red as the fruits he was carrying.
“I’m here to talk.”
“Oh yeah? Well, talk to this!” Snatching up a hard fruit from his basket he hurled it at Kannon, then setting his load down, commenced firing away.
Kannon deflected the fruit with his hands and forearms, one of them exploding, scattering both him and surrounding bystanders with bright red juice. Ducking, he darted to Jarun to kick aside the basket. He seized Jarun’s wrist before a punch could connect. “Will you calm down! I’m not here to fight!”
Jarun yanked his hand free. “Then what were you doing scaring my mother?!”
Was this what it was all about? He glanced over at the old woman who whispered something to Gina. She translated. “She says he’s really a good boy.” Her gaze skittered to the surrounding shopkeepers who in a show of support or outrage, had started to surround Kannon brandishing canes, bottles and a cricket bat.
“Stay there. I’ll take care of this,” he told her. So, of course, she came to his side, and began public relations with the mob, gesturing at him and other shopkeepers. In minutes they were chatting and laughing, and any who might’ve still had a bone to pick with him now settled for dirty looks before wandering off.
Kannon turned to Gina. “I’m not going to ask what you did because it worked, and that’s all I care about.”
She smirked. “You might care next time you come here shopping with your daughter. Then you’ll be paying.”
Jarun was still looking murderous. Gina brought her lips to Kannon’s ear. “I think he’d like an apology for threatening his defenseless little mother.”
“I didn’t—” Kannon exhaled and turned to Jarun. He manufactured as contrite a face as his fuming mind permitted. “I apologize for any misunderstanding that has arisen as a result of my behavior.”
Jarun looked over at his mother who was staring with shoulders sagged at the mess of pomegranates. “You should make it better by cleaning up the mess.”
“I didn’t—” Kannon exhaled again. If it wasn’t that he needed the scum’s cooperation, he would’ve shoved the entire basket down his throat. As it was, this was all payback for his earlier interrogation of Jarun. Without waiting for his answer, Gina began hustling around the fruit, tossing undamaged pomegranates in one basket, damaged in another, ordering him to take the baskets back to the stall. It was all done in no time flat.
“Now,” Kannon gritted out. “Now, can we please sit down for ten minutes? To talk.”
Jarun pointed to the stall. “Fine. But this better be important.”
At the back of the stall, Gina sipped on a glass of juice as Kannon tried to get the worst of the sticky red fluid off his suit.
“I thought you said you were going to arrange for Wakai and me to leave,” Jarun complained. “It’s been nine days. Nine days!”
“I said I would and I will,” Gina said.
“And what about Victoria? I thought you were going to deal with her.”
Gina slammed down her glass. “Jarun! I said I would and I will. Now, can we talk or do you need something other than your pomegranates squeezed?”
Jarun looked from one to the other of their faces, and agreed.
Wakai contemplated the mummified corpse of the infamous Si Quey Sae Urag, arguably the worst serial killer in Bangkok’s long and sordid history. Worst one ever caught, anyway. The monster’s shriveled body stood hunched, enclosed in a glass case resembling a white telephone booth. The killer’s leathery skin was dark from the embalming process, the face bearing an expression of morbid interest in whoever gazed upon it.
After being cooped up in his penthouse for a full week, with only Victoria and his thoughts for company (rakshasa didn’t count), it would seem peculiar to others that his first excursion was to a medical museum. The place was housed in Bangkok’s oldest hospital, and abounded with bizarre medical curiosities. All around him were preserved bones and organs, stillborn babies in jars of formaldehyde and a hundred other grotesque displays.
His mother had once worked as one of the hospital’s groundskeepers, and left in charge of his little sister, he’d snuck into the museum with her. Both had been fascinated by the place, though for very different reasons.
For him, it was a welcoming departure from the chaos that marked their lives in 70 Rai. A sterile and ordered sanctuary from the filth, violence and misery that was his home and neighborhood. He could look at the body before him and take comfort that even such an abomination as Si Quey—murderer, cannibal
, child killer—could be contained. That cold intellect could prevail over chaos, and that even a nightmare could be neatly boxed up and put on a shelf if one was disciplined and dispassionate enough to do it.
His sister was a different story. Whereas he longed for control over the horrors of Bangkok’s underbelly, she ached to become one of them. She’d gazed upon the mummy with solemn admiration, like a pilgrim visiting the sacred remains of a saint. He’d known even then that she was insane, but the museum had inspired him. If he was smart enough, he could protect her. Veil the worst of her desires from the authorities, neighbors and, most importantly, his psychologically frail mother.
Now he realized that Victoria was the reason their mother had been so brittle, and why suicide had been, for her, the logical conclusion. Life, Wakai had learned as he’d looked at the bleeding corpse of his mother, really was an option.
An option the man he most feared had extended to him. After revealing Montri’s location, he’d not expected Kannon Takahama to set him free. Not even with Tasanee as their hostage. Not even with Gina Zaffini underwriting Kannon’s own promise. Yet he had, and Wakai had spent the week considering the whys and wherefores of it.
His phone rang, shattering the silence of the exhibit room. Montri. Well, well. It had only taken a week. “Good to hear from you, Alak.”
“This isn’t Montri.”
Gina Zaffini. It took a moment for Wakai to find his tongue. “May I ask why you’re on Alak’s phone?”
Despite the hatred she must feel for him, the woman’s tone remained as calm and collected as when they’d been on the boat. “I’m afraid both of us have miscalculated, Mr. Wakai. You thought you could control Alak by holding his daughter hostage, but he is ready to sacrifice her to take you down. That isn’t something I can tolerate.”
The news hit him like a hammer. “You…killed him?” Wakai tried to keep the shock from his voice. “How did you get by—?” Of course. “Kannon Takahama.”
Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) Page 22
