by Haus, Jean
I spin around to run and smash into the cook from the Chinese Buffet. Fear rockets through me. They have to be working together. I push him hard in the chest and he tumbles into a parked car.
Past the cook and around the corner, I open the first door I find. There’s no way I can out run two of them. Inside, loud rock music blares. A few people still dressed from work sitting at tables look up from their drinks. There’s little interest in their eyes. I push past people mingling in between the tables, past the crowded bar and the bartenders filling beers from taps into the backroom where the few people there watch the pool tables. Balls knock together and no one pays attention as I slip past a pool table into the women’s restroom. In the last stall, I lock the door and crouch on top of the toilet.
I try to slow and quiet my breathing, but my lungs are on fire, my mind an even thicker jumble than before. Beyond the fear, the unbelief, and the shock, I can only think Smith is behind the attack. That he’s now hiring goons to get me. And there’s really no way I’m going home now. Though I feel like bursting into tears, I slowly pull out my phone with trembling fingers. The door opens as I slide the unlock tab. Music and laughter spill into the mildew scented room. I clutch my phone and hold my breath. Sweat breaks out across my forehead. I’m poised on the edge of a toilet desperately praying that whoever’s out there isn’t after me.
Water runs. Something flicks and the scent of smoke mixes with the scent of urine. Relief lets me breathe. I fall against the moist, cinder block wall and hope the woman smokes ten cigarettes. The longer she’s in here the less chance they’ll come in and check. At least I hope so.
I stare the screen of my phone. My fingers hover over it. Who can I call? My father? No, he’ll just tell me I’m off my rocker. 911? What do I tell them? I don’t even know where I am. The water stops and metal clanks. She must be throwing out her butt. No! Stay! Smoke! Smoke! Smoke your noxious fumes! The door creaks and I’m once again alone.
I run my hand through the snarls in my hair. I should go out to the bar, tell the bartender some guys are chasing me, and call the police. Yet, I’m too scared to move.
I’m trying to build up the nerve to get off the toilet when music once again spills into the bathroom. Footsteps echo on the cracked marble floor. The first stall bangs open and my heart begins to pound. When another stall’s door clanks, fear bubbles within me.
Wham! The metal door clanks on the thin wall next to me and I hold in a scream. Black high tops appear beneath my door and like a six-year-old, I close my eyes, shake my head, and hope that if I can’t see him, he can’t see me. My locked door rattles before footsteps sound in the stall next to me. I clench my mouth shut, hoping beyond all reason that someone’s just looking for a clean toilet. Next door porcelain clanks, metal creaks.
Then nothing.
I open my eyes in the silence and blink until I look up and let out a garbled shout as the cook from the restaurant grins down at me. That grin fills me with ire. Though not as bad as the other guy’s sneer, I still want to bash him in the face with my book bag.
“Well, look at what we have here,” he says, slowly pushing himself over the stall.
I hold my anger in and my throat convulses, but I wait. Once he has one leg over, I spring forward, not caring that my bag and phone fall on the floor, to rip the lock open. I take off past the stalls like an Olympic runner out of the blocks. Almost to the door, hands grab me. A wailing, “Nooooo!” escapes me as I try to wrench myself free and stomp on his foot. He spins me around and my back slams into his chest.
“Just smack the bitch if she’s going be trouble.” In the middle of lifting my foot for another stomp, I look up. The guy who originally grabbed me stands in the entrance. I didn’t even notice the loud bar noise.
“Can’t. They don’t want any marks,” the cook says. The words warm the back of my neck. His lips close to my skin causes me to squirm. His arms squeeze me until breathing becomes difficult. “But we can do things that won’t leave marks.”
My eyes begin to water. From lack of air or desperation, I’m not sure.
The closed door muffles the sounds of partying as leather clad man steps close enough for me to see the black pores on his nose. I can’t help trembling at his close proximity. Him or Smith I don’t know who scares me more. And beyond the fear, I’m pissed at myself for being scared.
He pokes the center of my chest. “Crying ain’t gonna do nothing.” His eyes turn to slits. “If you don’t want to get hurt, then do what you’re told.”
The hold on me lightens and I gulp in air. “Why are you doing this?” To my embarrassment, it comes out with a sob.
His fingers grip my chin and dig into my skin. “I told you to shut up.” He pulls something from his pocket and raises it in the dim bathroom light. A click sounds and the steel shines from the reflection in the mirror above the sinks. The sight of the knife has me trembling again. He waves it in my face before laying the cold steel flat on my cheekbone. “I’m not going to put up with any bullshit. We’re all going to walk out together. Do you understand?”
The knife in his hand takes this to a new level. Terror crawls across my skin, pools in my belly, and has me seriously fearing for my life.
“Do you understand?” he repeats while pressing the metal harder. I can’t suppress a shudder. He inches closer, curling his lip until I force a nod. I have a feeling that if I don’t comply he’ll leave marks, lots of marks, regardless of what they want.
A click sounds again and the blade disappears while the cook pulls me toward the door. “Kevin’s going to stay right behind us as we walk through the bar.” He looks down at me and adds, “With the knife in his hand.”
“Nice use of my name asshole,” Kevin hisses from behind.
“Ah man, sorry,” the cook says over his shoulder as we step in front of a pool table. While we walk through the bar with Kevin behind us, I try to catch someone’s eye, but no one pays attention to us. The knife keeps me quiet and if I don’t walk, I have a feeling the cook would drag me. And he might have to because as adrenaline fades, shock leaves me limp.
Outside the neon lights, the crush of people, and the loud sounds of traffic weigh on my exhaustion. Kevin comes around and grabs my other arm. Human manacles now drag me through Chinatown. Kevin likes to hiss in my ear, “Stay quiet!” every few minutes. Bitterness mixes with my fear and perks me up each time his breath warms my ear. The resentment beats imagining where they are taking me, and more important why. It has to be for a ransom because anything else is too awful to contemplate. I do think about shouting out for help every other step, but psycho Kevin still grips the switchblade in his hand. Without the knife, he’s menacing, with it terrifying.
Shoving people out of the way and racing across streets, they try to look conspicuous, but my bodyguards continually scrutinize our surroundings. “I think someone’s following us,” Kevin says at a corner. “Look back at twelve o’clock.”
The cook twists his head around. “I don’t see anything.”
Kevin’s fingers tighten on my arm. “Come on. We’ll go the long way around.”
They pull me down a less crowded, darker, and trash lined street. We’re all huffing out cold fog as we move faster. I can hardly keep up. My boots scrape the cement. My side aches. My head feels like it’s going to burst. And their grips are so going to leave marks.
Just when I’m about to collapse, a shadow steps out of the opening of an alley.
Chapter 17~Snow
“The girl’s with me,” the shadow says and steps further into the streetlight. My eyes round on Jai. His eyes roam over me as he crosses his arms over the canvas of his gray coat. With his jaw hard, he looks menacing. He also looks like deliverance and freedom. Hope surges in my chest. Although I was upset with him for leaving me with his bitchy girlfriend and crushing my crush, I’m now freakin’ ecstatic to see him. With a surge of new energy, I pull at the hands holding me. Their grip stays tight.
The dark street is si
lent while both of my human manacles stare open mouthed until the blade flips out and reflects the neon letters of an open sign. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you’d better move on.”
“We found her first,” the cook sneers.
Jai steps closer. “She wasn’t lost to find.”
Kevin points the blade at Jai’s chest. “I’m going tell you one more time to get lost.” A jab enunciates each word.
My eyes round on the knife and the thought of Kevin using it on Jai. While his expression is calm, almost bored. “And I’m going tell you one more time to let her go.”
Kevin jabs again. “Get the out of our way!” When Jai doesn’t move, he spits at him. The shiny glob misses Jai’s boot by a centimeter. He doesn’t look down. He doesn’t even consider the knife. He just stares at Kevin. “Let her go,” he repeats.
The knife rises higher and a snarl comes before the blade slashes out.
“No!” escapes me as Jai bends backwards away from the steel. In one elegant reach, he catches Kevin’s wrist then spins away holding on to Kevin’s arm. Crunching echoes. A gasp of pain sounds and the knife clanks to the cement. My left arm is suddenly free as Kevin cradles his hand. “You’re dead,” he shrieks and jumps on Jai. Instantly, they become a tangle of moving arms and fists.
Freed from one side, I tug on the cook’s grip with all the energy I have left, but he shoves me up against the wall while the mass of striking arms and legs tumble deeper and deeper into the alley. I shove back as grunts rebound between the tall brick walls. Kevin and Jai are going at it hard now. Knuckles smack against skin. Bones crunch.
A garbage can in their path finally breaks them apart.
With my face against the rough stone of the wall, I watch them breathing heavily, staring at each other over the spilled refuse. The sound of a rolling can echoes through the alley. As they stand across from one another, nearly shadows in the darkness of the alley, it’s hard to contemplate who will win. Jai’s a bit taller but leaner. Kevin is bigger and from what I’ve seen ruthless. Still I’m so hoping Jai can take him.
While they stand there, Cook pulls me toward the alley opening. I’m guessing he’s trying to ditch both of them. “Stop it!” I dig my feet into the cement. I’m so not going with him. The closer I am to Jai, the safer.
Kevin glances at us. “Mao if you take off on me,” the tugging stops, “I’m going to kick your ass after I kick his.” His hard glare returns to Jai. He tugs off his coat and throws it on the cement. “Now you’re going down,” he says then jumps and spins into a kick across the spilled trash.
Jai stands still and watches the boot coming at his head. I try to yell out but it comes out in a garbled mess. Just as boot treads connect with his face, Jai grabs Kevin’s leg, twists his own body, and pulls down. Hard. It’s like he plucked Kevin out of the air.
Kevin plummets onto the cement before rolling through the spilled trash. He lays there and groans. I’m desperately praying he won’t get up, but in seconds, he’s standing then leaping at Jai, who steps back, spins into a sideways arc, and catches a jaw with the fastest kick I’ve ever seen. Kevin flies through the air and hits the cement with an echoing thud.
This time he doesn’t get up.
His limp body has me ecstatic, but Mao yanks me out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. “Jai! Help!” I yell before yanking back, pushing at him, and kicking his shin.
“Stop it!” He cuffs me with an elbow to the cheek and stars mingle with neon lights. My vision’s clearing just as something hits Mao from behind. He stumbles and lets me go. I stumble too, but strong hands straighten me.
Relief floods me at the touch of Jai’s hands on my waist until Mao scoops up the knife still lying on a patch of ice and points it at us.
Jai pushes me behind him. “Do you really want to join your friend on the ground?”
The knife quivers. Mao glances at the figure lying in the trash. His eyes flick to me. Greed shines from their depths, making me wonder just how much I’m worth. “We found her first,” he says before taking a deep breath and lunging at Jai.
Jai pushes me away and sidesteps the attack. Mao stumbles then lunges again. A duck and a leg sweep have him tumbling to his knees and hissing as he skids across the icy cement.
“You done yet?” Jai asks.
Weaving, Mao gets up, gives Jai one last heated look, and takes off.
As he runs away, I realize I’m free. I’m safe. Slowly reality breaks through the shock of what just happened. Yet…though safe now, Smith is after me, my father doesn’t believe me, and I can’t go home. I fall against the brick wall and frustrated tears explode in a waterfall.
Instantly, Jai comes and tugs me into his arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He pulls me closer as I still sob. Though I do feel safe at the moment, I can’t stop crying. “Come on Nivi, you’re all right.”
I shake my head, pull away—even though his embrace warmed me from the cold—and wipe my nose like a toddler. I look up at him. The left side of his face is red and puffy. But right now I’m selfishly worried about me. “For how long? My chauffeur drugged me. People are chasing me for—for some awful reason. And you…why are you here?”
His dark gaze rests on me for a long moment before he finally says, “I came looking for you. I figured you’d get lost or in trouble. You should have waited for me to get back.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the sidewalk before I can complain about his girlfriend practically kicking me out. “Come on. He’s,” Jai nods behind us, “not going to stay down forever. I’ll help you get home again.”
At the word home, I dig my feet into the cement. “I can’t go home.”
“Why not?”
“Because my father refuses to believe me, he thinks I’m nut—nuts.” Saying the word aloud is harder than I thought. Jai tilts his head in question. I shake my head. “He thinks I made up Smith’s attack. But those guys…they knew my name!”
His expression is contemplative until he says slowly, “Yeah I don’t think home is a good idea right now. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know.” Tears start to well again. I’m falling apart and I can’t seem to control it. “I lost my bag…my money…my phone…”
“You can come back to my place.” Jai steers me toward the sidewalk again.
I don’t budge. “What about your whacko girlfriend?”
His hands on my arm freeze. “My girlfriend?”
“Song,” I say as if her name explains everything.
His head snaps back as his eyes round in horror. “Song’s not my girlfriend.”
I cross my arms. “You could have fooled me.”
“I’m telling you she’s not, but we have to go. He’s going to be up soon.” This time he grabs my hand and tugs on that.
I still don’t move. “Who are those guys?”
Jai starts tugging again. “I think they’re part of the Tong.” At my raised brow, he adds, “A gang here in Chinatown.”
Trash rustles in the alley. Kevin’s moving. Ugh. I’m not sure what to do, but staying here with psycho Kevin isn’t an option. At a dead end, I let Jai lead me out of the alley and back toward his underground apartment.
Chapter 18~Snow
After racing through Chinatown, we’re back in his basement bungalow, sitting at the beat up table under a naked light bulb. Luckily the apartment is minus one resentful female. Apparently, the lying bitch flew the underground coop. And yeah, now that I’m out of danger my temper is seriously flaring.
Jai leans back in his metal folding chair. “I’m not sure what Song was up to. Maybe she was just worried about me.” He puts his hand up when I open my mouth. “It does sound like she was trying to make us look like a couple. We’re not. She’s only fifteen and I’m almost eighteen.” He leans forward with a look so intense it stretches the skin across his angular cheekbones. “But tell me why would Song and me together bother you so much?”
My hands underneath the table dig into m
y thighs. Shit. I feel my face begin to warm. There’s no freakin’ way I’m letting him know about my silly crush. How embarrassing. I slowly lay my palms down on the rough table surface and collect my thoughts. Think of something plausible. “It wasn’t so much about your being together…it was more about her acting so jealous and rude. She made me feel like I was imposing.”
He watches me before his intense expression fades. “Well, I’m sorry she was rude. She’s really not like that.” Could have fooled me. “And I apologize for leaving you with her. I just had some things to take care of…things that couldn’t be ignored.”
“Like what?” I ask more than happy to change the subject.
The whack of the door on the cement wall interrupts our conversation and a boy emerges into the room. “Dinner!” he yells, holding up fistfuls of plastic bags. He drops the bags to his sides as his eyes travel over me, a horrified expression stiffens his face. “Who’s she?”
Turning around, Jai gestures to me. “Juan, this is Nivi.”
Hello,” I say with raised brows. Since we’re in Chinatown, I expected him to be Asian like everyone else. Although he has dark hair, his name is obviously Hispanic.
His angry eyes ignore me. “I thought you promised Feng Lu you wouldn’t take in anymore?” His tone is angrier than his eyes.
“She’s only staying for a while.”
“Why?”
What is everyone’s deal around here? Is this some sacred, secret society?
“She’s just staying until things cool down at her house.”
Juan’s stare snaps from Jai to me and back again. “Is she going to work like the rest of us?”
Jai shakes his head. “She’s not staying here that long.”
“Song ain’t going to like it,” he says, throws the bags on the table, and stomps out of the room.
Ah, even this boy knows how territorial Song is about Jai. I question Jai with a look while the sound of a door slamming echoes through the apartment. He goes to the fridge. “Don’t mind him. He’s a little grumpy from bussing tables all day.”
