Small Moments

by Kimberly Forrest

  Rin wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “Why did you not come to the funerals? She was your sister.”

  “So this is nothing more than wounded feelings?” Her uncle let out a scoffing sound. “Sentiment,” he snarled, his lip curling with derision. “Female nonsense.”

  Rin fisted her hands in her lap to keep from slapping that arrogant face. She’d only been in his presence for a matter of minutes and already thought him the most frustratingly condescending male she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. Rin repeated her original question, this time in Japanese. “Where are we going, Uncle?”

  “A restaurant that is at least adequate in quality and service, unlike what that town you have chosen to live in has to offer.”

  What a snob, Rin thought with disgust. The diner in Malsum Pass had great food – comfort food – with a homey atmosphere. That was probably exactly why her uncle didn’t like it. No one there would bow down and kiss his ass.

  The drive seemed to take forever, plenty of time for her uncle to say what he needed to say, but he remained quiet, not budging on his original plan to eat first. He also had no desire to fill the uncomfortable silence with either music or small talk. No, heaven forbid he actually attempt to get to know his niece, and any attempt Rin made at conversation was met with a grunt or silence. Exasperating male. Didn’t he realize that he was only cementing Rin’s bad opinion of him? More than likely, he simply didn’t care.

  Lunch didn’t improve things. They’d driven twenty minutes to reach the restaurant that her uncle approved of; the atmosphere of the place was rather dark for Rin’s taste, and they had been seated in an even darker alcove to ensure privacy. Rin hadn’t been given a menu once she had been seated, her uncle ordered for her, not deigning to ask her opinion. It highlighted quite eloquently, if she had had any prior doubt, that neither her opinion nor her preference mattered to him in the least.

  Any appetite Rin may have had going into this meeting was quickly lost. The food could have been the best cuisine on the planet or it could have been week old trash for all Rin paid attention. She was too uncomfortable, too annoyed, and too agitated, waiting for her uncle to get on with whatever was important enough to have his majesty leaving his kingdom to mingle with the common folk in order to seek her out.

  Her uncle placed his fork and knife down on his empty plate and wiped his mouth. The overly attentive waiter quickly jumped into action to clear their places. Rin nearly sagged with relief. Finally, they could get to the point. Her uncle’s words, when he spoke, were a surprise. Not only were they in English, but they were the first words that he had spoken that conveyed any sort of familial affection. “I am glad you are well, Mei.”

  Rin felt her eyes widen in shock, but quickly contained the emotion and inclined her head. “Thank you, Oji.”

  “I am not so well.” Her uncle’s lips twisted as if he was disgusted with whatever mortal weakness he had been inflicted with. “I am dying.”

  Rin’s first instinct was sympathy and she knew her face reflected that when her uncle scowled. He would not welcome her sympathy, would see it only as pity. His voice was hard as he continued. “I have spent my life building an empire, nurturing it like a baby, watching it grow when I should have made a baby to leave it with.” He paused seeming deep in thought, one of his fingers tapping lightly against the table. “I would have made fine sons.” He pinned Rin with a hard look, “I have no heirs. Upon my death, my business will be left in the fickle hands of a female.” Her uncle spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

  Rin stiffened at the insult, but her uncle either didn’t notice or didn’t care – most likely the latter, as he continued, “I should have taken you in hand long ago, Mei. I should have seen you properly molded and groomed for the task that I must now set upon you. That is my fault and I take full responsibility, but now we are very nearly out of time.”

  Her uncle let out another one of his grunts and then he was reaching into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “I admit to having been quite concerned when I heard you had been taken, yet fate has returned you to me so that you may fulfill your destiny.” With that said, he slid his hand across the table and revealed her missing locket. “Yours, I believe.”

  As soon as Rin locked eyes on her locket, joy burst in her chest. Picking it up with shaking fingers, she cupped the familiar weight in her hand before opening the clasp. The photo inside of her grandparents, her mother, and her uncle just the same as she remembered. She had thought she had lost it forever when the fur traders had taken her.

  “How did you get this?” Rin asked on a gasp of surprise.

  “It was sent to me last autumn, by a business associate of mine.”

  Last autumn. When she had been abducted by the fur traders. The words settled in Rin’s brain like a nightmare. The implication, one she never would have dreamed, and one she refused to accept. Clearing her throat, she asked carefully, “Benedict Brooks was an associate of yours?”

  She prayed, she wished, she hoped so hard that he would deny it – tell her that the locket was found by someone else, maybe on the street where she had been taken – but she knew, even before he gave that sharp nod, that she would be disappointed. “He has been to my office many times where the original of that photograph is kept.” Her uncle’s lips twisted, “Your relation to me should have provided you with immunity, but Brooks was always the opportunist. I understood that about him.”

  Rin closed her eyes, her fist squeezing the locket while her nails dug into the palm of her hand. “You work with the fur traders.” It wasn’t a question and Rin was amazed at how calm her voice sounded.

  If she thought she was going to get a denial, she was sorely mistaken. Her uncle’s expression barely changed as he stated, “I am a businessman. I deal in acquisitions, and at times I am approached to find a specific specimen. If the money is right, I procure what’s needed – no matter the form… as will you.”

  Over my dead body, asshole. Rin wanted to scream at him, to swear that if he left his empire to her that she would burn it to the ground, but her uncle was a shrewd man, sly as only a fox could be. She needed cool logic, not bruised emotion. With that thought keeping her tongue in check, Rin lowered her eyes. “I thank you for lunch and returning my locket, Oji. You’ve given me much to consider, but I’m afraid right now I must return to work.”

  She couldn’t be sure if it was the demure look, the downcast eyes that pleased her uncle, or perhaps what he saw as an easy acceptance of his explanation. More likely, it was her deference to a male, which he would consider proper behavior. But for the first time, her uncle smiled, a smug stretch of lips that raised Rin’s hackles. He raised a hand in signal to his assistant and in moments, they were back in the uncomfortable silence of her uncle’s car.

  Chapter Thirty

  Rin’s mind was whirling. Her uncle, though he may not have admitted to being a fur trader, was definitely in league with them. The same despicable bastards that had kidnapped her right off the street with the intention of making her the entertainment for their shareholders. And her uncle knew. He knew! He had been sent the proof of her abduction when he received that locket from Benedict Brooks. And what had he said? Oh, yes, he had been quite concerned. Not for her welfare she would bet – he had come right out and said that he understood Brooks was an opportunist, as if they had been talking about the last piece of pie rather than her life! No, he had been concerned because she was his only heir to his kingdom, his baby – the only thing that truly mattered to him. Had he even tried to negotiate her release? Considering how long she had been at the compound before she had escaped, she’d have to say, no.

  She took a deep breath to calm herself before she indulged her desire to leap across the space and claw her uncle’s eyes out. When she got back to the office, she would tell Ginny what was going on, maybe call Tarvahl Pierce. If her uncle was associated, even peripherally, with the fur traders then he had committed a crime against shif
ters and should answer to shifter law. In Malsum Pass, that meant whatever Tarvahl and the rest of the council decided would be his fate.

  Feeling a tiny bit calmer, Rin turned her attention to the passing scenery. She didn’t know how much time had passed while she was deep in thought, but surely enough where she would begin to recognize the area. Worry crept in as she took in her surroundings. Instead of the curves and humps of the mountain roads, they were on a straightaway. The landscape was too flat, too open. This looked like farmland with acres of fields, the stubs from the previous harvest poking up through the snow.

  A slither of fear skated over her skin and raised the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck. Clearing her throat to avoid any croaking that might reveal her dismay, Rin said carefully, “I believe your driver may have gotten turned around, Oji.”

  “He’s going in the right direction.” Turning his head toward her, he pinned her with a look. “As I said, there’s much to be done and we’re running out of time. My man will send for your things and arrange for them to be shipped. You’re needed in New York now.”

  Rin’s heart seemed to stop with a painful clenching before it kicked into double-time. “What? No. I can’t! I won’t!”

  With surprising speed her uncle had wrapped a hand around her upper arm, his fingertips digging hard into the muscle until Rin let out a little cry of pain. Leaning in close so that they were nose to nose, her uncle snarled. “No? You do not tell me no, female. Learn your place.”

  Releasing his grip with a small shove, Rin fought back tears while her uncle’s mask of impenetrable calm fell smoothly back into position. She should have known any outburst from her would have an adverse effect. She needed to keep her head. She needed to think. What would appeal to someone like her uncle?

  Lowering her head in a sign of respect, Rin barely kept from gagging as the bullshit flowed from her lips. “You honor me, Oji, but I am not fit to fill your shoes. Is there no one better suited?”

  Her uncle grunted, but there was something in those shrewd eyes of his that said he was pleased with her words. “Undoubtedly, there are many males who would be better suited. But as long as the business carries the name Nakamura, the majority shares will be held by one with Nakamura blood. And that, unfortunately, is you. It is why we must begin your training immediately.”

  Rin took a deep breath and opened her mouth, prepared to try another tact, but was forestalled by her uncle as he raised a hand. “Enough. I have no wish to hear you speak. If you cannot keep that tongue of yours still, then I would be more than happy to have you sedated for the remainder of the journey.”

  Silence or sedation? Those were her choices? There was obviously no getting through to him. Rin bit her lip and looked out the window as she considered her options. She wished she had brought her cell phone, but having assumed they were going to lunch in town where there was no service, she hadn’t bothered. She had no idea where she was right now. Farmland seemed to stretch out for miles, some buildings as well, though they were far back from the road. Buildings that might have a phone… How fast were they travelling?

  Carefully, avoiding any sudden moves that might attract attention, Rin unclipped her seat belt and ever so slowly, slid it out of the way. It was insane, but she had reached a point of desperation. Before Rin could talk herself out of it, she took a deep breath and reached for the door handle with one hand, pushed open with the other, and said a little prayer as she leapt free of the car.

  Rin landed hard, her body rolling for several feet before she finally came to a jarring stop in a ditch. The breath had been knocked out of her, and her body hurt so badly that she wouldn’t be surprised if she had some broken bones, but she could hear the squeal of tires, smell the rubber laid down on the road as the vehicle came to a screeching halt, and knew she had mere seconds. Fear and adrenaline kicked in with enough strength to get her moving up and out of that ditch.

  She had made it only a few yards before her coat was snagged from behind. Her uncle’s assistant had caught up to her and without hesitation, Rin put all of Mike’s lessons to good use. She turned and swung with a hard right cross that connected with the man’s chin. He collapsed to the ground, out cold, but Rin didn’t stay to celebrate the victory. She took off like a shot, her feet pounding across the snow covered field.

  She had trained for this, had put her body through the grueling task of building her strength, her speed, and her endurance while in captivity, but never had she dreamed she would need it to escape her own blood.

  Hearing a high-pitched howl, Rin pushed herself even faster. Her uncle had shifted, which would give him the advantage of speed. She had no time to shift as well, her clothes would only entangle her and allow him to attack before she’d be able to kick free. Panting hard from her exertions, Rin kept her eyes on her goal – the farmhouse growing ever closer – and as she watched, she saw a pick-up truck pull into the drive.

  Hope filled her, and Rin raised an arm above her head and let out a scream for help as she continued to run. The man that got out of the truck had spotted her, but the next thing Rin saw was him pulling a rifle from the back window of the cab. Panicking, she veered left. Was the man going to shoot her? Hearing the rifle report tore another scream from her as she covered her head and once again, hit the ground hard.

  Rin waited in agony for either another shot to ring out or for her uncle to be upon her. Neither came. What she heard was the pounding of many feet coming her way. Lifting her head, Rin saw three men running toward her with shared looks of surprise and concern on their faces.

  The one with the rifle was the oldest, probably in his mid-forties, and most likely the father to the other two, who looked like they were in their teens. He got to Rin first. “Jesus H. Christ, girlie, are you okay? I ain’t never seen nothing like that. That fox must’ve been rabid to be chasing you down like that. He was leaping right for you.”

  Rin turned her head to look and saw her uncle in fox form, mere feet behind her, laying prone on the snow covered ground, a small pool of blood beneath him, melting the snow and turning it red. She let out a shudder, equal parts horrified and relieved.

  The older man handed the rifle to one of the teens. “Go on over there, Doug and make sure the thing’s dead. Just give it a nudge with your boot, no need to shoot it again if it’s not breathing.”

  Once Doug moved off to do as he’d been told, the older man squatted next to Rin. “You injured, ma’am? You need me to call an ambulance?”

  Rin took a moment to take an inventory of all of her aches and pains. Yes, she was injured and she probably needed a doctor, but right now, what she wanted more than anything, was Mike’s arms around her telling her that everything would be okay. The thought got the tears flowing, and before she knew it, Rin was sobbing and couldn’t stop.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Safe and warm inside the farmhouse, Rin had finally managed to stop crying, but was now feeling the full barrage of her injuries. Her heavy winter parka had taken most of the damage from her tuck and roll stunt out of the car. The shoulder and one whole side down the front was practically shredded, stuffing and nylon hanging off her in tatters. The knuckles of her right hand were slightly swollen from the punch she’d thrown but she was pretty sure she’d broken something in her left hand. The entire hand and down her wrist was swollen and bruised, and she could barely twitch her fingers.

  Her hip, thigh, and knee were all burning, and while the scent wasn’t strong, she was definitely bleeding from some of the scrapes.

  The poor farmer, who had introduced himself as Doug Senior, kept hovering while they sat in the kitchen and waited for Mike to arrive. He had been so uncomfortable with Rin’s tears – reaching out a hand awkwardly, like he was going to pat her arm, then pulling it back, clearing his throat, lifting his John Deere cap to run his other hand through his graying hair before plopping the cap back down on his head. All the while saying things like “there, there,” and “it’s okay, yo
u’re all right” and then finally tossing a look over his shoulder to one of his sons and snapping, “Dammit, go bring the truck, boy, so the girl don’t have to walk to the house.”

  Once in the house, he’d again offered to call an ambulance, but Rin had only wanted to call Mike. As soon as she had heard his voice, the tears had started again, so badly she could barely speak through the hiccups and sobs. Of course, her lack of communication had freaked Mike out and he begged her to tell him where she was, his voice deepening to a growl in his agitation. Still she couldn’t manage to get the words past her throat, so Doug Senior had had to gently take the phone from her hand to assure Mike that she was just “shook up”, and give Mike the address so he could come get her.

  While they waited, Doug Senior had offered something to drink which she had gratefully accepted, something to eat, which she had declined, and now he kept popping his head up to look out the window, probably eager for her ride to arrive so that he could wash his hands of her, and no longer be forced to make small talk with a female prone to tears.

  It was during one of those pop ups that his two teen sons came into the house. “Did you take care of it?” Doug Senior asked, looking expectantly between his two boys.

  “We were trying to, Dad.” One of the boys began.

  “But some man in a fancy uniform – “

  “Not military, but something else – “

  “Took the carcass,” the two boys explained, cutting each other off and finishing the other’s sentences.

  Rin stiffened, her nerves revving up. Would her uncle’s assistant still come looking for her trying to fulfill his employer’s wishes? No, she was safe here, and once Mike came, he would bring her home to Malsum Pass, and she would be safe with him.

  “He was cradling it like a baby and crying.” One of the boys was saying.

  Both boys were nodding and then Doug Junior added in a voice that was almost a whisper, “I think that fox may have been the guy’s pet, Dad.”