Page 142 of The Dragon 1
Fifteen.
Maybe twenty.
They didn’t falter. They formed a wall around the Fox’s bed—black uniforms tight, helmets reflecting our blood. Their rifles were up. Their eyes were wild. Loyal. Terrified. Deadly trained.
And there—seated in the middle like a king on his throne—was my father.
Unmoved.
Unbothered.
Still calm.
Still holding that fucking pistol like a scepter.
His gaze slid to mine.
Mocking.
He didn’t aim that gun at me.
He aimed it at Hiro.
I snapped a guard’s neck and rushed for him.
"Get out of here!" My father rasped, the oxygen tank hissed. "And await my next orders for rulingmykingdom!"
“You’re a fucking coward!” I shoved the men to the side, still they blocked my path. “You should have died in that bombing. Not Mom! Not Jobon!”
Frowning, my father kept that gun on Hiro but his gaze remained on me. "Know. Your. Place."
I wanted to kill him. God, I wanted to rip the veins from his throat with my bare hands. But Reo grabbed my shoulder. Blood streaked his temple.
Reo’s eyes were wild and his breath ragged. "We can’t win tonight. We have to go, Kenji. Now."
I turned to the right.
Hiro was on his knees beside Nura’s body, cradling her with a tenderness that gutted me.
Reo motioned at Hiro. “Let’s go!”
Hiro shook his head. "We’re not leaving her."
Reo didn’t argue. He walked over, lifted her slowly.
“No.” Hiro rose. “Give her back to me.”
“Okay.” Reo passed Nura’s dead body like she was made of glass.
But Hiro. . .took Nura and held her like she was still breathing.
My heart ached.
He cradled her and the very vision was a love letter written too late. Blood smeared across his chest, tattooing her memory there.
I didn’t reach for Hiro, but I wanted to. I wanted to grip his face, hold his rage, and whisper that I’d burn this whole hospital to the ground if it would undo this moment and bring Nura back.
We limped out of that room.
