Page 2 of Crossed By the Stars
I finished the glass of saké and set it on the nightstand before falling onto the bed. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a text that was as far from my norm as the apartment was from my taste.
ME: I’m home.
When was the last time my grandmother had ever cared about me arriving somewhere? I couldn’t recall. So, I quickly sent a second message to hide the ridiculousness of my first.
ME: Did you kiss the trainer yet?
OBAASAN: Too young, Jada-tan, too young. But watching him does make the therapy sessions go faster.
ME: Young means stamina.
OBAASAN: Stamina is no replacement for experience.
I laughed quietly to myself.
OBAASAN: It was good to see you. I’ve missed you.
The words hurt, striking at the little girl in me that had been shoved away. I’d been so alone as a child that I hadn’t even understood what it meant to miss someone until I was a teenager. Until a boy with beautifuleyes and a smile that curled my toeshad entered my world. A boy who’d taught me the pain that yearning for someone could bring.
The absence of my family in my life had never hung on me before, so I wasn’t exactly sure what had urged me to get on a plane to seeObaasanafter her surgery. In truth, going to New York had been a risk. My father could have easily seen it as a declaration of war—or a declaration that I was ready to accept his terms of subservience. But for some reason, the thought ofObaasan’s tiny frame alone in her bed after major surgery had torn at my conscience. I’d gone, knowing that neitherKaasannorOtosanwould make the effort to be there. They’d hired nurses and washed their hands of the whole unpleasantness of my grandmother needing to be fixed, like anything broken in my father’s world was ignored.
I grimaced at my melancholy thoughts. I shouldn’t have gone. Spending several weeks in the apartment where my childhood had been ripped away hadn’t been healthy or wise.
I pulled myself up from the bed and shed my clothes on the way to the giant bathtub in the only part of the penthouse I actually loved. The bathroom’s green and black color scheme mixed with copper felt earthy and expensive. It exuded an aura of calm I needed.
As I filled the tub, I added one ofForce de la Violette’snewest bath bomb scents: lime and honey with the slightest hint of the sea. It reminded me of the heat and decadence of the Florida Keys. Maybe I just needed a vacation?a safe indulgence?but I couldn’t take one until Violet and Dawson got back. They deserved their extended honeymoon, sailing around the South Pacific, after everything they’d done for me…for our business. I wanted this for them.
I looked in the mirror and saw what Rana had seen. I looked more than tired. My pale skin wasn’t glowing, and the purple smudges beneath my dark lashes weren’t from twelve-hour-old makeup.Instead, it was like I’d been bruised by exhaustion.I let out the clip holding my black hair, and it swung about me. Straight and smooth. Thick.Shimmering with white highlights as if silver had been threaded through it. WhenI was a little girl, hating my black-and-white appearance,Obaasanhad told me I’d been kissed with diamonds. These days, I wasn’t sure if it was diamonds or zirconian knock-offs.
I grabbed a bottled water from the hidden mini-fridge, turned on the soothing rhythm of piano music, and sank into the tub. I closed my eyes and let the scents take away the stress of my travel, the darkness of the world I’d visited, and the memories that were trailing after me.
The next thing I knew, I was waking in water that had turned chilly. Sleep had found me in the wrong place. I drained the tub, dried off with the soft towels that had been stacked by the housekeeper, and then slipped into the silk robe waiting for me on the hook. I grabbed the water bottle and started for the bedroom, hitting the music off as I went.
In the sudden quiet, I heard a click, like the locks on the front door.
“Rana? What did you forget?” I called out. She was the only member of the team who entered my apartment without calling.
Silence answered me.
“Rana?”
When there was still no reply, my skin broke out in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill of the tub water lingering on me. A smell wafted through the air. Almost imperceptible. Dissipating so fast I couldn’t dissect it.
My eyes roamed the room.
A piece of paper laid on the bed.
I eased over to it, stomach falling, heart kicking up pace.
It was parchment, thick and waxy. Old. Maybe even ancient. The Japanese characters on the surface were so dense they were almost engraved into the surface, and the drawing was graphic…bloody. The frantic beat of my heart stalled as I read the words written in my father’s language.
???????????????????????????????
Retribution is a duty that only waits so long. Your time is up.
I inhaled sharply, holding the air until my lungs burned as if I hadn’t breathed in a decade. The words whirled through my brain on repeat. WasOtosantruly angry with me for visitingObaasan? For helping her?
How had his minion gotten into my apartment to deliver the message?
