Loving Jiro

Home > Other > Loving Jiro > Page 5
Loving Jiro Page 5

by Jordyn Tracey


  Her stomach dropped. “Men? There's more than one?"

  She nodded. “Yes, three from what I could see. I could only catch a few words because they speak too fast, and I haven't practiced German too much. Too boring. Now French, that's—"

  "Ayumi!” Kiara interrupted. “You speak German? They're speaking German?” Her head spun at the implications. Not that she could figure out what implications knowing this brought. Part of her over stimulated mind was impressed that a nine-year-old spoke at least three languages.

  Kiara looked at her watch. Eight p.m. She had been out for hours. Poor Ayumi had been sitting in her wet clothes that long. Seeming to realize that she had missed a couple meals, her stomach growled. She stood and crossed to the door on unsteady legs. A steel door with a deadbolt kept them inside.

  She banged on it. “Hello? Is anyone there?"

  Almost immediately, the door opened. She had to jump back to keep from being hit in the face. A burly man with thick black hair and too much facial hair entered. Ayumi had been right. There was more than one. “What do you want?” His rude gaze raked over her. She glanced down to make sure she was decent.

  "Ayumi needs a change of clothing, and we both need food. I don't know how long you intend to keep us here, but I'd think you would—"

  He advanced on her, grabbed her by the collar and breathed funky breath in her face. “And I'd think you would keep your mouth shut and not antagonize your captors."

  Kiara clicked her teeth together sending pain along her jaw. Fear took hold of her body until she thought she might have an accident of her own. The man lifted a hand to her face, and she cried out and ducked. He laughed and pushed her back. Without another word, he left, slamming the door.

  Soon the door opened again, and the first man entered followed by another. The third man, shorter and younger than the other two, grabbed Ayumi by the arm. Kiara tried to stop him from pulling her out of the room.

  "No!” Kiara screamed. “She stays with me. Don't hurt her.” The first man shoved her so hard, she fell on the cot Ayumi had occupied earlier.

  "Don't you worry, pretty woman, I will take care of you.” The door slammed shut but didn't lock. Ayumi's terrified screams cut into her heart. The man advanced on Kiara with his hand on the button of his pants. “You're expendable. I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck a black woman. Now's my chance. Although you're a little underweight.” He frowned. “Still, puss is puss, huh?"

  She tried to kick him in the nuts, but he caught her ankles and pushed them apart on the bed. He knelt down on her shin and she screamed in pain. “Stop, you're hurting me."

  "Be nice, damn it,” he yelled. “Just once, and I'll let you go. How's that? I don't like my lovers fighting me.” Could have fooled me.

  She fought harder, but he was too strong. He tore her blouse open and rubbed her breast through her bra. She bit his neck when he laid flat against her. He drew back and raised his hand to slap her, but stopped. His hesitation meant his injury as far as she was concerned. She kneed him in the nuts as hard as she could. He crumbled into a ball, holding his crotch.

  Kiara shoved him off her and launched herself toward the door. She wrenched it open and ran out to find herself in a wide open space like a warehouse. Searching the area for other rooms or a hall, she stopped. The man from the room behind her caught up, banging into her from behind. They dropped to the floor together.

  In a rage, he tore at her blouse until it was shreds. He ripped her bra from her body, and in a sort of detached way, she felt the cold cement floor against her naked breasts. She cried, pleading for him to stop, but he moved on to her pants. His strength seemed to know no bounds as he fought to get her pants undone without turning her over to face him.

  "No.” Her voice came out small and hoarse. He reached inside her loosened pants and squeezed her ass, then rubbed his hard-on against her. She whimpered.

  Shots rang out. Shouts she didn't recognize sounded all over the place. The man at her back sat up, and then another shot and his body jerked. He fell down on top of her, his mouth against her cheek. Warm sticky blood trailed from his lips to her face. He was dead.

  Sniffling, Kiara tried to free herself from the heavy body on top of her, but she didn't have the strength to roll him off let alone lift him. Running feet echoed in the open space, and she heard Ayumi yell, “Jiro!"

  Kiara lay her head down to wait, praying he didn't hate her for letting his sister get caught and leave her there to die alone. The next instant, the man on top of her was pulled off, and hands lifted her. She tried to cover her breasts, but her arms wouldn't move.

  "Anata,” Jiro said gently, “let me help you.” He wrapped a jacket around her shoulders and closed it over her chest before picking her up into his arms. “Ayumi, stay at my side."

  Vaguely, Kiara felt Ayumi brush her back as she took hold of her brother's shirt to hold onto. Together they walked out of the warehouse to the parking lot outside. When Jiro placed her in his car and buckled her in, her head dipped, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

  * * * *

  Kiara woke in a room she didn't recognize. Panic set in with the thought that she had been recaptured. She cried out and tried to sit up, but Jiro was there to calm her. “Easy, anata. You're safe now."

  She tried not to cry at his caress along her cheek. “It's Kiara. Why do you keep calling me that?"

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. “It's an endearment among lovers. I shouldn't have used it."

  Taking hold of his hand, she looked into his eyes. “Jiro, I'm sorry. I let those men capture Ayumi. She ... she..."

  He moved so she could see his sister curled in a nearby chair, asleep. “She's safe as well. Don't worry. This was not your fault. I blame Eiji for not keeping a closer watch. He will pay for his failure. Your task is to rest and get better."

  Fear gripped her. “You're going to kill him, just like you killed those men."

  "Can you honestly tell me they didn't deserve to die?” The corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyebrows knit together. “One was foolish enough to put his hands on you. He deserved to be afraid and tormented for what he put you through. Instead, he is simply out of his misery."

  She gaped in shock at the man she had known to be so controlled and kind at all times. The hatred she saw now in his eyes terrified her. Had she had doubts all this time that he could kill, those doubts were gone. Jiro had pulled the trigger to end the life of the man who tried to rape her.

  Her breathing became short and rapid. Her head spun. She tried to put up a hand to push her hair from her face, but she realized that one arm lay in a cast, secure against her body in a sling. The struggle had resulted in a broken arm, and a drip of medicine, probably a pain killer, went into the other arm.

  Jiro stroked her hair from her face. “Don't be afraid of me, Kiara. I would never hurt you.” His warm breath heated her face, and the deep timbre of his voice helped her to calm down. He kissed her cheek. She thought about pulling away but didn't.

  Encouraged, he covered her mouth with his own. His head tilted to the side, his tongue slipped between her lips to curl with hers. She kissed him back, just this once. Her emotions swirled, her heart pounded. She was lost in his flavor, in his tenderness as he nuzzled her neck and slid a hand down under the covers to tease on erect nipple.

  She arched into his palm, aching for more. He moved back to her mouth and sucked at first her bottom lip and then the top before delving into her warm mouth again. Finally, he drew away just a little to watch her. “You are so beautiful. I ache for you. I'll give you whatever you want.” His hand on her breast slid lower. He lifted the hospital gown and rested his hand against her mound.

  "No, don't. Please."

  He stopped. “Tell me what you want, Kiara. Shall I kill him for you? I will."

  Her eyes grew wide. She knew what he meant. He offered to kill Odell. This wasn't reality; it couldn't be. She closed her eyes, trying to quiet her racing thoughts. She
shook her head. “You can't do that. I hate him with every fiber of my being, and if he was run over by a steam roller, I would not shed a tear. But I can't ask you to kill him. I could never order someone's death."

  He sat up. She thought she saw pain in his eyes, but his serene expression was in place. “As you wish."

  She sniffed, dragged in a deep breath and blew it out. “Jiro, I can't do this. I-I can't live in this above the law type of existence you have. I cannot accept that you kill people for a living. At first, I ignored it, pretended it wasn't true. But after tonight, how can I? I am so thankful that you saved me and Ayumi. I will owe you for that forever, I suppose."

  "No, I was simply taking care of you. You don't owe me."

  She held up a hand to his lips. He fell silent. She wanted to stroke his mouth, to feel it on hers again, and beg him to explore her body as he had begun to earlier. But this was goodbye, and she had to say it quickly or she would break down in tears.

  "I want you to take Ayumi and go, please. I can't teach her anymore.” A lump rose in her throat. She blinked away the tears forming. “It's best that I don't see either of you again. Thank you for all you've done. When I get out of here, I will call with the number to another artist. She truly is as good as I am."

  "Kiara..."

  She turned her face into her pillow, refusing to look at him again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten, give a stiff bow and turn to move around the bed. A murmur and rustle of clothing told her he had lifted Ayumi. The sound of the door opening and closing sent her into body-racking sobs.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  Kiara's only consolation in arriving home from the hospital was that she was too bruised and broken for Odell to bother with hurting her. He grumbled about thinking she had run off again and about her not cooking him his dinner, but she ignored him completely and went to bed. The future prospect of her life had brightened all of a moment with Jiro and Ayumi in it. Now the darkness descended yet again. But, like always, she would pick herself up and keep going.

  Six weeks after the incident with the kidnappers, she approached Odell about their financial situation. “Odell, I don't have my best paying student anymore, and it's getting to be too much work to go around trying to scare up some money from odd jobs. The store where I get my art supplies has an opening I want to apply for. If not there, then somewhere else. We need the money."

  He turned away slowly and then zipped around to squeeze her neck in a cruel grip. “You're trying to say I need to get a job, bitch?"

  She fought to breathe. “No, Odell. I'm not. I just wanted to tell you I have to work. I-I can't hold a job when you beat me!"

  His eyes narrowed in disgust. “Now you're blaming me for your problem holding down a job!"

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. As if it came from someone else, she heard her awkward gasps echoing in the small room. “Please..."

  "Shut up!” he growled. He shoved her away from him. “I'm tired of you, Kiara. I'm tired of all your shit, your complaints. All I want is a decent home where we don't have the lights or the phone turned off every fucking minute."

  "Then get a job yourself!” She could have fainted at her boldness. Mouthing off to Odell got her one thing and one thing only—a busted lip and a swollen eye. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.” She reached a hand out to stroke his chest. “Come on, baby, I just want to do my part to keep things flowing in our house. You can understand that, can't you?"

  His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he frowned. “I stopped wanting you a long time ago, Kiara.” She knew this mood, one set to hurt her feelings with every word he uttered. He leaned in close to her lips, as if that tempted her. It didn't. She only wished the lips less than an inch from hers were Jiro's and not Odell's. “You know why I keep you around? To pay the bills and suck me off. That's it. In fact, why don't you get on your knees and do it right now. You do that without complaint, and I'll let you get that job. But you'll bring me every check—the whole check."

  He waited for her decision. For a full minute she stood staring at him, stumped at how a person could be so completely selfish. She knew from experience when she had to give him her money, it meant bills would continue to go unpaid. He would blow every penny, leaving her nothing and then blame her for hassle from bill collectors.

  His eyebrow went up expectantly. She dropped to her knees, and sniffling, she unbuttoned his pants. The Rocky and Bullwinkle boxers had been a gift from her. He found no problem in wearing them, except on certain nights when he went out in bikini briefs. She was not stupid. She knew what that meant.

  Pulling down the material, she looked up at him, a plea in her eyes. His expression remained unyielding, his lips compressed. “Do it now."

  She took him in her mouth, closed her eyes and battled nausea. He threw his head back, moaning. She dreamed of another place, another time. Even as he released in her mouth, forcing her to swallow, she knew tonight would be another attempt at escape. The last twenty dollars in her purse would go to alcohol. When he was content and unconscious, she would slip away.

  Kiara eased out of the bed, wincing when an empty beer bottle clattered to the floor. Odell's snoring didn't pause. She dressed quickly and stuffed a bag with a few changes of clothing before creeping to the front door. Without regret, she opened the door and left.

  After walking the highway for hours, she caught a ride with a woman heading south. Kiara figured maybe if she went as far south as possible, just maybe Odell wouldn't find her. For a man without a job, he had plenty of friends—friends who seemed to know how to track down anyone.

  "This time will be different,” she insisted to no one in particular. At a diner in the middle of nowhere, in a small town she had never been to, she started a new life.

  She glanced at the help wanted sign in the window and jerked open the door. A bell jingled, announcing her arrival. “Be right with you,” a woman in a too tight waitress uniform called as she carried a pot of coffee to two men in the corner. Kiara shook her head. Just like in a TV show. Weird.

  Clutching her bag close to her side, Kiara waited with a hip pressed to the back of a booth. She examined the walls—boring pictures, cheap and unattractive. She considered the poor quality of the furnishings. The likelihood of the owner springing for her to paint murals was slim. Yet, an idea was forming in her mind of a sixties motif with records and hoop skirts, a jukebox and motorcycles, all painted on the dull white walls.

  The waitress finally finished with her customer and sauntered over. “Haven't seen you around here before. Passing through?"

  Kiara nodded. “Yes. Well, I was. I need a job."

  "Ever waitress before?"

  She shook her head. “No, but I learn fast. If you give me a chance, I promise I'll give it my all, and I'll work any shift you need, overtime too.” She hadn't meant to sound so desperate.

  The woman studied her. Kiara dipped her head so that her hair fell forward on her face. Irritation registered in the woman's expression. “You running away?"

  "I—"

  "References?"

  She sighed. “No, I have no references.” She turned to go. “Thanks for your time."

  "Wait.” She pulled at Kiara's arm, and she flinched. She dreamed of the day that wouldn't happen. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she paused. “I had a girl who just quit. Hell, I would quit if I could. Okay, you're hired on a trial basis. But the moment you have a man coming around here causing trouble, you're gone. I've had enough drama in my own life to last a lifetime. I've been down that road of abuse, and I don't want to relive it through you. Got it?"

  Kiara hid a frown. One would think if the woman had been abused by the man in her life, she would have more compassion for someone else in that situation. She guessed not. Everyone responded to life's issues differently.

  "Yes,” she affirmed. “I got it."

  * * * *

  Six months. Six glorious months, she was free, wo
rking at the diner and pocketing her money. No one stole from her. The most trouble she had had to deal with was prejudiced white men and women who came into the diner occasionally. Not the locals, but those passing through. She ignored their snide remarks and kept on going.

  Francine, the head waitress that had hired her, patted her shoulder. “Don't let them get to you, Kiara. The women are just jealous you're so beautiful, and the men want to get with you."

  Kiara laughed, her heart light, or as close to light as it could be. She had come to the conclusion over the last few months that she had grown to love Jiro and Ayumi. Her heart ached for Jiro nightly, but the course she had chosen was the best she could make. “Me beautiful?” She grinned. “Yeah, right."

  Francine spun her around. “Look at you. You've put on weight. When you came in here, you were skin and bones. I think you've picked up a good twenty pounds or so. Got yourself a butt now."

  One of the local men—sixty-five if she had to guess—whistled. “Yeah, nice butt too."

  Francine rolled her eyes. “More men than that old fart have noticed.” She indicated the black man at the end of the counter. Kiara had caught Junior's eyes on her more than once. She knew he liked her, but she was not interested. He looked like a good guy, but so had Odell in the beginning.

  "Sorry, I don't think so,” she told Francine.

  "Come on, girl, you're young and fresh. You need a man.” She winked. “'Sides, I've known Junior since he was five years old when his father came through here and dropped him with his grandmother. Haven't seen the man since. Give Junior a chance."

  Kiara dropped the conversation as her shift was over. Convincing Francine she didn't care if the woman had known him fifty years was impossible. She scooted around the counter and gathered her purse and a sweater. “Night everyone."

  Francine grumbled, but said no more. She waved Kiara off.

  The night was cool. Kiara slipped on her sweater and walked a little faster. Soon fall would turn to winter, her least favorite season. She had four blocks to go to get to her three room duplex. The place wasn't much, but it was hers. She always got a thrill heading home, no matter how exhausted she was.

 

‹ Prev