Page 10 of Pragma
“Correct on both fronts, bunny.” He pats my thigh patronizingly before pushing his legs down and turning to look at my face with an intense stare. “Ling Wang is a waste of space, and I’m gonna mow him down until the only thing left of him is a red smear on the dirty floor.”
I sigh. I don’t care if he kills the fucker or not. I just don’t want him in harm’s way because of it. Ling Wang is an incompetent prick, but he’s also the grandson of one of the heads of the Chinese Triad. Killing him could turn into bloodshed that I’m afraid I won’t be able to shield Aki from. Not like today. My shoulder seems to hurt even more at the thought.
The Triad is like a hornets’ nest, you can wipe one out, but unless you know where every nest is, there will always be more hornets. And those hornets enjoy wreaking havoc on our beehive.
“Tell the girls to find Ling Wang and to keep their eyes on him from a distance,” he orders, just as Soma gets in again, bringing the smell of roast pork and chicken with him.
I send Karin a text in the chat as the car takes us closer to Soho and Aki’s loft.
He starts eating, sliding off the pieces of chicken and garlic from the skewer with his teeth and then letting them roll on his tongue. He closes his eyes, and with a satisfied smile, keeps chewing. Fuck! I grit my teeth and look away. I never understood his enjoyment toward food. For me, it’s just fuel in the tank; whatever is available will do. I’ve never been picky, didn’t havethe luxury when I was growing up. Although I do like to savor my favorite dishes at times, but it’s not a priority.
A fragrant, brown paper bag drops on my lap. It feels hot, so I lift it up. Aki glances down at it and then at my face while still eating. The smell of sweettareand onion makes my stomach almost growl, so I unfurl the edge and grab one of the three long wooden skewers. Pork and asparagus covered in sauce. It’s good. I quickly finish all of it as Aki asks Soma which was the bestwhackjob of the day. It’s a disturbing ranking game he made up, and—as the name states—it decides the best kill of the day.
“Sweet Karin turned one of Ling Wang’s guys into an ashtray, boss. More precisely, his tongue felt the burn of his own cigarette.”
“Sst, sst, sst…” Aki starts making hissing, sizzling sounds.
“She made him swallow it before killing him,” Soma adds to clarify. “He did call Yuna a bitch and tried to kill her.”
“I see,” I say. Karin turns vicious when people insult her girlfriend. “Didn’t she use a red-hot poker stick on that cartel guy last month?”
“She seared both his nipples after he copped a feel of her breast,” Soma reminds me.
“River still got first place tonight,” Aki declares.
I raise a brow at him in question.
“He yanked out the knife he was stabbed with from his shoulder and then grabbed the fucker’s shirt and used his head to make a hole in the ceiling.”
Soma whistles. “What were you trying to do? Give him a boost to the upper floor?”
I grunt. “That piece of shit got it easy. I should have made him suffer more. Much more,” I growl, remembering how close he got to wounding Aki.
“Stop the car. Let us out here,” Aki orders suddenly.
We are a couple of blocks from his loft, why does he want to get off here? I always go up to his place with him and check that everything is okay before leaving—even though two men are always standing outside his loft. We don’t take strolls. He hates walking.
As soon as the car pulls over at the curb, he gets out, leaving the door open for me. “Take the head.”
I grab the duffel bag, close the car door, and tap on the roof to signal Soma to go. He already knows the time he needs to pick me up from my place tomorrow morning.
I move steadily a few paces behind Aki. I don’t ask him the reason for this out-of-character walk. But I wonder what is happening to him. Something has changed lately. Can’t grasp what it is, but he seems more determined than usual, more focused, like he decided something, and now he knows what path to take…hopefully not one where we are all killed by the Chinese Triad.
He is the type to rush straight while only looking ahead—literally. One hand in his pants pocket, the other around his sword’s sheath. His light, quick steps exude confidence and power. The air is kind of chilly, but he’s wearing only his colorful suit. He naturally stands out, as if his inner-self is desperatelycalling out to be seen. I take off my coat—letting out an internal hiss when I move my injury—and drop it on his shoulders.
He doesn’t thank me—we’ve never needed that shit between us—but he tilts back his head to look at my face with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. A lock of purple hair falls on his forehead. Those perfectly almond-shaped brown eyes. For a moment I feel too much and have to force myself to look ahead again.
I can sense his searching eyes narrowing on me without even seeing him. That’s how much I’m attuned to him and why the fight inside me persists. Because I’ve never met someone I’m more aligned with, even though we are poles apart.
Except Joel. I sigh as we keep walking. Thinking about my lil’ bro always leaves space for melancholy and regret. Anger and helplessness.
“You just ‘ah,’” Aki says suddenly. I don’t comment.
“You have a bad ‘ah’ and a good ‘ah.’”
“So, what ‘ah’ was I making?” I’m sort of amused by his level of awareness of me.
“A bad one, baby bunny.”
