by Carrie Asai
Hiro let out a long, labored sigh, then wrapped his arms around me. “Never again,” he said. “I’m here now. Your great protector.”
“At last,” I said, snuggling into his arms. Even though Hiro was wiry and muscular, there was a softness about him. A warmth. I sighed happily.
Hiro backed away for a moment. I looked up. “What?” I said.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, trying to hug me again.
I sensed he wanted to say something. “No, what?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m just wondering. It’s not possible that you’re interested in me because…well…because I was sort of this…person who watched over you and protected you, is it?”
I thought about this hard. Why was it that I was interested in Hiro? I thought of his body, moving quickly and deftly as we went through our practices. I thought of his laugh whenever I’d say something funny. I thought about that time I’d walked in on him sleeping: the gentle way he’d hugged the pillow, his mouth hanging open, his hair standing up straight. And although at first perhaps that was why I’d hung on to Hiro, I realized now that Hiro-as-protector was not what I wanted in my life. I’d struck out on my own, first to Cheryl’s, then to Vegas. And I was still alive. I’d even made it through a few days with Teddy without losing my mind or succumbing to some Yukemura marriage plot. I was a survivor on my own.
No. I wanted Hiro as a boyfriend.
I smiled. “Not at all,” I said. I explained to him the thoughts that had just gone through my head. Hiro nodded happily, hugging me tight. “I’m so happy,” he said.
“You said it.” I sighed. We began to kiss again.
But this time, midkiss, a horrible splintering noise broke the air. We shot apart just in time to see the door to our room broken open with what looked like a hatchet. My whole body tensed up. Hiro tensed up, too.
Before we could do anything, a huge guy with a slimy mustache burst into the room. He wore a dirty white shirt and jeans and steel-toed shoes. There must have been about six guys behind him. He stared at Hiro and me. He licked his lips.
“Well, look at this,” he said. I shuddered and sprang off the bed, backing into a corner. Hiro followed me.
“Is this Miss Heaven…Kogo?” He had enormous gold chains around his neck and extremely brown teeth.
I didn’t answer.
“Okay, baby, you just stay real still,” he said. He pulled out a long knife and waved it at me. It looked like there was crusted blood on the tip. The guys behind him pulled out various weapons and brandished them in the air. “And who is your little friend?”
The crowd parted a little. More guys moved in. The ringleader guy moved closer. And then, cutting through the line of men, in walked Pablo, the guy from the VIP room in Vegas. He looked a little grimier now, but his hair was still slicked back and shiny and he still wore about a thousand rings.
He stood in front of the steel-tipped-boots guy. “So, we meet again,” he said. He looked me up and down in a perverse way. “But you’re cheating on your husband-to-be, aren’t you?”
“Wha?” I said.
“No matter,” Pablo said, not letting me finish. The group started to move again, pushing someone to the front. Teddy. His eye had swollen shut and he was bound at the wrists.
“Oh my God,” I breathed in. The air stood still for a moment.
Then Teddy’s good eye met mine. He looked at me with utter desperation and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
14
Hiro sprang for the ringleader guy, wresting the knife out of his hands. I shoved Teddy down and lunged at Pablo, kicking him first on the shoulder, then in the stomach. He flailed back but recovered quickly.
“A little fireball!” he said, sneering, and then pulled out a gun.
I quickly knocked it out of his hand and lunged at him again. He blocked me with his body and I realized, These guys can’t really fight. I barraged him with a series of roundhouse kicks and jabs to his jaw. He recoiled in pain and swung blindly at me. Another guy behind him grabbed him and shoved him back.
“You’re in trouble,” the new guy said. He had about three teeth and extremely long, stringy hair. And gigantic biceps.
There was no way I could flip him, so I concentrated on moving quickly to elude him. He swung, but I dodged out of his way. I quickly checked on Hiro—he was still battling the leader guy. On the floor Teddy scurried to the corner, trying to wriggle out of his restraints.
Three Teeth swung at me again, this time making contact. The side of my head stung with white pain and I stepped back. I saw through blurred vision that Hiro stepped in and managed to trip the thug. He came careening toward me. I shouted and scrambled out of his way, cracking my already hurt head on a bedpost. I bent over in pain. For a split second, with my eyes closed, I could only hear the grunts and cracks of Hiro fighting all these guys at once.
I quickly regained my wits and went to work on some of the other guys again. Three Teeth looked like he was down for the count, and Pablo was nowhere to be seen. Another Mexican in a turquoise T-shirt ran toward me with his fists flying. I managed to block the punches but this time cracked my hip on the edge of the bureau.
“Ahhh!” I wailed in pain. If the banditos didn’t kill me, fighting in this damn hotel room would. Turquoise T-shirt stood back, laughing at me. So I gave him an ul gul chi reu gi—a tae kwon do punch to the face. He howled and staggered back.
Hiro was doing okay. He’d managed to get a couple of the thugs to the ground and was collecting their guns. But then another wave of them entered the room. The place was nearly filled to capacity. And it was all of them versus…three of us.
Where the hell were the hotel managers? Did this sort of thing happen all the time?
Teddy hovered near the window and finally managed to get his hands free. He started to throw anything that wasn’t bolted down at the assailants. A phone book flew through the air. The phone came next. Shoes. Anything. I ducked out of their way as they came flying through the air. Hiro swung his legs around to trip up one of the men, quickly grabbing his knife. Someone crept up behind him, though, and snatched the purloined gun that he had lodged in the back of his pants. The man pointed the gun at his head. I shouted. But then Hiro spun around and knocked it out of his hand again. I let my breath out and concentrated on who was in front of me—a guy who’d lost his weapon somewhere in the skirmish and was now brandishing a table lamp. He lifted it over his head—it looked like it was ceramic and heavy. He tossed it at me, but I ducked. The lamp sailed across the room and flew right into Teddy, breaking into a million pieces on impact.
It knocked him out cold.
Shards of it flew everywhere. I covered my eyes. I was afraid that the banditos would try to hurt Teddy—shoot him or something—while he was unconscious, so I took on about six of them, trying to take them on all at once. I started with a series of roundhouse kicks, flailing my arms and my legs, basically just blindly fighting. I managed to look over at Hiro and saw that he was doing the same thing—taking on too many guys, not doing too well in the process. I cracked one guy upside the head, and when he fell, I looked over just in time to see one of the banditos swipe Hiro’s legs with his knife. Hiro howled in pain.
“Noooo!” I said.
My palms were slick with blood. I didn’t know if it was my own or someone else’s. I tried to move the men away from Teddy, who was still unconscious behind the bed, but suddenly there was Pablo, back in the room, waving a gun around.
“Enough!” he cried. He held up his hands in halt. He pointed the gun at me.
Hiro and I froze. Was he going to shoot us? If we tried to knock his gun away, the others might draw out their guns. I didn’t know what to do. The guns Hiro and I had knocked out of their hands were scattered around the room. I couldn’t see any at the moment.
I quickly looked over to Teddy and saw that his eyes were open. He was staring at the banditos and their guns with a look of utter terror. The kingpin of the operation, Pablo—th
e guy who’d screamed “enough”—was very close to Teddy’s leg. He could grab the gun from him and gain an advantage.
“Go,” I mouthed ever so slightly to Teddy. “Grab him.” Teddy nodded and started to feebly move over. Faster! I thought. Teddy moved very, very slowly. But then he looked up at me. His eyes looked dead. He closed them, and to my horror, he started to move away from the guy with the gun. He slumped back down and closed his eyes.
He’s pretending! I thought. He’s playing dead! What a coward! Before I knew what I was doing, I lunged across the bed and knocked the gun from the bandito’s hand. It flew into the air almost in slow motion and landed somewhere on the ground. And then it fired.
A smattering of sparks filled the room. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my head, hoping the bullet wasn’t aimed in my direction. After the shot had been fired, I didn’t feel any pain. I didn’t think it got me. But where had the bullet gone? I opened my eyes and prayed that Hiro hadn’t been hit, either. But I could see that he wasn’t. He was looking around, just as confused as I was.
Then I saw. Teddy. He wasn’t moving. I could see a hole at the back of his shirt.
Had the bullet gotten him? “Teddy?” I yelled.
He didn’t respond.
“Oh my God,” I said. I began to feel woozy. Had it really gotten him? Despite my distaste for blood and death, I had to see….
I took a step forward but felt something cold at my back. I didn’t turn around, but I just knew it was one of the banditos. He had me in a hold that I couldn’t get out of. I couldn’t flip him. I let out a weak cry, then glanced over at Hiro. He was being held, too. We were both powerless.
“There’s nothing you can do about him now,” said a voice in broken English. “So we’re going to take a little ride.”
They bound our arms behind our backs. I cursed and coughed and wrenched my head to see Teddy. Hiro struggled and broke free and started to swipe at the banditos. The banditos whipped after him. I kicked my legs. The guy who was holding me whacked them with something that resembled a billy club.
Hiro yelped from around the corner. They dragged him back into the doorway, slapping his face, punching him in the stomach. I gasped. I’d never seen Hiro beaten this badly. “No!” I cried weakly.
They finally stopped and managed to tie up Hiro’s hands again. They started to herd us into the hall. I twisted around to see Teddy. If he was still lying there. If he was breathing. Anything.
But to my surprise, he was gone.
“Hiro,” I whispered as the banditos shoved us out the door. “Teddy’s gone!”
“No talking!” someone barked. It sounded like Pablo.
“What?” Hiro said, out of breath. His nose was bleeding.
I twisted my neck around to see the corner where Teddy had been lying. Above him was an open window. He must have escaped.
But wait. We were on the fourth floor. Could he have dropped down that far?
They shoved us down the back stairs, through murky-smelling alleys. I cascaded against the slimy walls and felt bruises immediately rise to the surface of my skin. Unfortunately, we didn’t end up at the front of the hotel, so I wasn’t able to see if Teddy was lying in a pool of blood on the concrete. But I was sure that between the bullet and the fall, he was dead. The banditos shoved us roughly to a back alley.
We reached a large black sedan. Three guys had appeared from nowhere and grabbed me from the other guy and wrenched my arms behind my back and tied them together. Then they shoved me in the car. My legs, covered in blood, stuck to the leather. Hiro was in the backseat, too. I was too terrified to even feel relief. Hiro was a mess, too—his face was bloody and his legs looked terrible. I stared at him in terror and confusion. He stared back.
Pablo rolled into the front seat and glared at us. “I told you not to talk,” he said, even though we hadn’t said anything. “If you talk, I’ll slowly cut off various parts of your body. First your ears, maybe. Then perhaps your arms. Then maybe your lips. You have beautiful lips, you know?”
He held up a long, terrible-looking knife, which made me think he wasn’t kidding.
Pablo eyed Hiro. “You been kissing those lips, boy?” Hiro didn’t say a word. The blood from his nose had dripped to his chin and onto his shirt.
Pablo lit a cigarette. The guy in the steel-toed shoes rolled into the passenger seat; I could see his weaselly face in the rearview mirror. Finally the car squealed into life and jerked into movement. The cigarette smoke began to fill the car—I suddenly realized it was a cigar, heavy and stinking. I nearly gagged. My body felt a new kind of pain from the brawl we’d just finished.
I kept hoping Teddy would emerge with his gun and blow these guys to bits. He had to. He’d always escaped before.
The car rolled out of the parking lot. Where were we going? My heart pounded. Teddy must have died while trying to get out of the window. How had he done it without us noticing? But then, it had been loud in there with those guys just trying to contain Hiro and me.
We rolled out of sight.
No one was coming to rescue us.
Pablo said something to the other guy in Spanish. They laughed, then Pablo lit a new cigar. They glared at us in the rearview mirror. I opened and closed my fists, trying to figure out what to do. I tried to look to Hiro for strength, but he didn’t look very brave right then. He looked as terrified as I was.
