“You want to explain it to me?”
“He's dead,” Reno said, his voice flat. “This doesn't make sense. You need to do exactly what I tell you—”
“How many times have I heard that?” she said.
He frowned at her. “I'm going to get you out of here before I get rid of the body. We don't want anyone asking questions that you aren't going to want to answer.” He dragged her through the kitchen, ignoring her struggles.
She tried holding back, but it was useless. He was too strong. “I don't mind talking to the police. Why don't we call them?”
“The phone lines are cut, and the cell-phone signal's been jammed. Nakamura was always good with electronics. The question is, who hired him?”
“And who killed him? And where is he?”
“I am here, Lovitz-san.”
Reno swore, spinning around. Kobayashi had loomed out of the shadows, calm and gentle as always. Even splattered with blood.
“I thought you died with my grandfather, Kobayashi-san,” Reno said in a calm voice. He'd finally released her, and she knew what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to run. She didn't move.
“I wanted to, Hiromasa-san. It would have been my great honor. But I knew I had to avenge him before he died.”
“Why would you need to avenge him?
Hitomi and his men died in the explosion.”
“The girl,” Kobayashi said, his voice mournful. “If she had not come, this never would have happened. I hoped my nephew would take care of her, make certain the blood price had been paid, that my master would be avenged, but he failed me. Not once, not twice, but three times.”
“What do you mean?” Jilly said, still in shock as she looked up at the gentle giant with blood on his hands.
“He was to push you in front of traffic. When that failed, he tried to drive you off the road, but instead you were rescued. And he let you escape today. He has dishonored me. Such carelessness had to be punished. But it is my fault, as well—the task should have been mine to complete.”
Reno stood very still. “Are you going to kill me, as well, Kobayashi-san? You know my grandfather loved me—he would never have wanted you to hurt me. And you heard what he said to Ji-chan before he died. Are you forgetting that?”
Kobayashi's broad forehead wrinkled for a moment, and Jilly realized at that moment that Ojiisan's bodyguard was bat-shit insane. “She is supposed to die. Someone must pay for the master's death.”
“But why her? She had nothing to do with it.”
Kobayashi blinked. “Everything was good until she came. The oyabun knew what Hitomi-san was trying to do, and he had it well under control. Until she came into things and destroyed everything. She must die.”
“You know you have to kill me first,” Reno said, his voice soft, implacable.
“I will do what I have to do.”
Reno moved away from her, toward Kobayashi, and his eyes glittered in the shadowy hallway. “You can try.”
Kobayashi stood still, his massive body blocking the exit. “It won't do you any good, young master,” he said. He was holding something in one meaty hand, something small and delicate. It was the digital tape recorder her supposed interviewer was going to use. He clicked it, and Jilly closed her eyes, expecting a thundering explosion. Nothing happened. Until she heard the crackling.
“My nephew already set the charges. He thought we were going to leave before the house burned, but that was never my intent. We will all die here, and join my master
....
”
“Ji-chan, run!” Reno shouted as he leapt toward Kobayashi.
He was like a spider on a giant warthog. Reno was tall, but bone-ass skinny compared to Kobayashi's massive bulk, and the big man tried to shake him off like the annoyance he was.
But Reno was clinging, slamming his elbow into the man's neck, and the two of them were crashing against the furniture, Reno's wiry strength little match for Kobayashi's massive determination.
Suddenly she realized what she was holding. Nakamura's gun. It was too much like the gun she'd used in Reno's apartment, and her stomach lurched again. “Stop it!” she cried, but her voice was drowned out by the grunts and thuds of their uneven battle.
And then Reno was down, smashed against the floor, unmoving, and Kobayashi turned to her.
She could hear the crackle of the fire, feel the heat begin to build. Smoke was billowing around the outside of the house, and the drapes in the living room caught, bursting into flame. She pointed the gun at Kobayashi, but her hands were shaking so much she could barely keep it still.
“A bullet won't stop me,” Kobayashi said gravely. “This is what must be. You and the young master will die, and be reborn
....
”
She cocked the gun. She wasn't even sure how she knew how to do it, but she pulled back the slide, hearing the chamber click into place. “I'm not ready to be reborn,” she said, her voice as shaky as her hands. “Get away from Reno. We're getting out of here.”
He started toward her, keeping between her and Reno's unmoving body, and there was no way she was going to run out and leave him. It was all or nothing.
“I've killed before,” she warned him, but the gun was shaking even more, and all she could see was the man she'd killed in Reno's apartment, his head blown half off.
Kobayashi said nothing, he just kept coming. If his hands had been around Reno's neck, she could have pulled the trigger. Anything short of that and she was helpless.
She saw Reno move, just a tiny bit, and knew she had to get Kobayashi away from him. She threw the gun at him, then took off across the marble floor, heading for the long, sweeping staircase that was her mother's pride and joy.
The fire was spreading, rapidly, moving through the first floor of the mansion. The nephew must have used some kind of accelerant to make it go so fast, and the heat was coming at her in waves, thick and deadly, following her as she ran up the stairs.
She could hear the fire engine sirens, but they were far, far away. She moved fast, scrambling up the steps two at a time, ignoring the pain in her ankle. As she raced by the first landing she looked out the window—the fire engines were trying to get through the gate that was blocked by the crashed Hummer. Shed sealed her own fate.
Kobayashi was coming up the stairs after her, faster than she would have imagined the big man could go. Flames were already licking their way up the wallpaper at the top of the staircase, dancing across the landing to the bedrooms. The bedrooms would go quickly, and then there'd be no escape. And Reno was down there in that inferno.
Why the hell had she thrown the gun at him? Why hadn't she just capped Kobayashi between the eyes and dragged Reno's unconscious body out of harm's way? She'd picked a hell of a time to get squeamish.
And then she saw Reno, taking the stairs three at a time, racing to catch up with them, just as Kobayashi caught hold of her loose T -shirt, hauling her backward.
She lost her footing, her sprained ankle buckling beneath her, and she struck out at him, but he was too big, too strong. She felt him pick her up, carry her to the edge of the marble railing, and she knew she was going to end up smashed in a bloody puddle on the marble floor almost two flights down, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She kicked uselessly, she scratched at his face, but he was impervious, carrying her to the edge as if she were a sacrificial cow.
And then Reno reached them, and his headlong charge left all three of them sprawled on the hard stone stairs. Reno kicked at Kobayashi's head, but the solid blow didn't slow him down, any more than the follow-up hits to his neck and kidneys. Kobayashi was simply beyond feeling pain, and he was dragging Reno toward the railing along with Jilly, impervious.
He was hauling her across the marble steps, painfully, and she looked up at the huge man, clenched her hand into a fist and slammed it into his testicles.
Kobayashi let out a high-pitched squeal, momentarily taken off balance, releasing Jilly, and Reno took advantage, slamming his leg up high against Kobayashi's head, again and again, until the big man fell across the wide stone railing, momentarily dazed, trapping Reno's body beneath his, pinning him there.
Reno shoved, as hard as he could, but Kobayashi didn't move, and the flames had spread down below, filling the stairwell, starting to eat their way up Lianne's organic-grass stair runner.
“Get out of here!” Reno shouted, his voice muffled as he struggled with the huge man's weight.
Jilly didn't hesitate. She took a flying leap at them, and a moment later Kobayashi went over the side, landing on the marble floor two flights below with a sickeningly wet-sounding splat.
Blood was pouring down Reno's head, and he was cradling his arm, but he managed to get to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “We have to get out of here.”
The flames had reached the bedrooms, billowing out of the open doorways above them, and the smoke was getting so thick she could barely see him. They hadn't gotten this far only to burn to death. “You're supposed to be the rescuer,” she said, choking on the thick smoke. “I don't suppose you have any suggestions?”
“It's your goddamned house,” he said in a raw voice. “You tell me.”
“Come on.” He was too busy cradling his arm with his other hand, and he couldn't drag her and haul her anywhere. The blood was getting in his eyes, and she took a moment and tried to wipe some of it away. His blood, on her hand. Proof of life, she thought. They weren't ready to die.
She went up the last few steps of the massive staircase, into the fiery heat, knowing he was following her. “Keep low,” he shouted at her, and she ducked as the smoke swirled overhead.
The only windows that opened in the house were those in her bedroom—Ralph and Lianne Lovitz preferred their air processed. The fire was just beginning to eat through the wallpaper on her bedroom wall, the awful girly stuff her mother had chosen, and she watched it go with mixed feelings. She headed for the casement windows, ready to shove them open when he stopped her.
“Wait,” he said, panting. “It could cause a backdraft and bum us to a cinder.”
“We don't have any other choice,” she said. “The swimming pool is down below. If we can just jump out far enough, we'll be okay. Otherwise we'll both be dead, so we might as well go for it. Just answer me one question.”
“I'm not answering anything...” “What did your grandfather say to me before he died. ”
“You speak Japanese!” he snapped.
“I couldn't hear him.”
“It doesn't fucking matter.''
“What did he say?”
Exasperated, Reno ran his hand through his thick hair. “He said 'Welcome to the family, Granddaughter,'“ he snarled.
“In that case, maybe it's worth living after all,” she said.
He moved away from her and shoved her door closed with his shoulder, cursing as it burned through the rough shirt. “That should slow it down.” He caught her hand in his, and shoved the casement windows, leaning over to look down at the pool below. He turned back, and there was an odd light in his eyes. “Did I ever tell you that I can't live without you?” he said.
“No,” she said. “You can tell me about it when we survive.” She could barely breathe, death was eating its way toward her, and she wanted to laugh out loud with the joy of it.
He shook his head, and then grinned at her, Reno, even with the shorter black hair, the bad boy who liked to live dangerously. “Come on, Ji-chan. We don't have all day.” He grabbed her hand, and they ran, throwing themselves through the open window with all the force they could muster.
She lost her hold on his arm as she went sailing through the cool, smoky air, and then the water went over her head, and she was choking, her feet touching the bottom of the swimming pool and then pushing up, up, until her head broke the surface.
“Reno!” she screamed.
He bobbed up beside her, and he looked as if he'd just taken his favorite ride at Disneyland.
“Right here, Ji-chan.”
“Bitch in heat?” she said. And she punched him in the jaw as hard as she could. Watching with satisfaction as he sank back down beneath the chlorinated water.
“We’ve been seeing a little too much of you lately, young lady,” the emergency-room doctor said. “Twice in three days is not a good thing.”
Jilly tried to summon a smile, not quite sure if it was working. Her sprained ankle felt as if it was broken, though they assured her it wasn't; she had bums on the left side of her body, bruises just about everywhere else; and it was sheer luck she hadn't drowned.
“Have you been depressed? Feelings of worthlessness? I can arrange for someone to talk to you.”
She stared at him for a moment. “I'm not suicidal. Someone was trying to kill me.
He patted her hand. “Let me call the social worker.”
“I don't need to talk to someone. I need to go home.”
“The police are wanting to talk with you, as well. You've been through a shock—it's no wonder you're disoriented.”
“I'm not disoriented!” she said. “Where's Reno?”
“North of Las Vegas, last I heard,” he said.
Kicking him would send her off to the psych ward immediately, so she restrained herself. “The man who was brought in with me. Where is he?”
“Mr. Shinoda? He was treated and released.”
Of course he was. Gone without a word. Probably halfway to Tokyo by now, and unless some other maniac surfaced to try to kill her, she wouldn't see him again.
Of course, she could always egg someone on. He'd assured her that anyone who spent time around her would wind up homicidal. That hadn't happened until she ran afoul of him, but if it was that easy, she could doubtless get someone to try to strangle her if it would bring Reno back.
She was out of her mind. He was gone, and good riddance. “I want to go home,” she said again.
“I'm sorry, Miss Lovitz, but right now there's no home to go to. Your house is gone, and the entire neighborhood has been evacuated. You must have some friends in the area, someone you could stay with for the time being? The police have been in touch with your parents and they're flying home, but in the meantime you need—”
“In the meantime I need to get the hell out of here,” she said. She smelled of smoke and chlorine, every inch of her body ached, and her heart, already smashed into little pieces, had somehow managed to re-break. Falling in love had to be the stupidest thing imaginable. Reno was right—if you feel it coming on, you just lie down until it passes.
“Would you like us to call someone for you?”
“I need a taxi to take me to the Beverly Hilton,” she said. “Nothing else.”
“Wait right here and the social worker will be with you.”
He disappeared before she could make another protest, and she bit back a snarl. One that she swallowed, as she suddenly realized the name tag on the elderly doctor's coat. Dr. Yamada.
Dr. Yamada had climbed into bed with her and held her, kissed her, and it certainly wasn't that annoying old man. There was an observation window overlooking her cubicle, and she could see the good doctor in earnest conversation with a policeman and a woman who looked like a jail-house matron. Probably the social worker, but she wasn't sticking around to find out.
She slipped off the table, wincing as she put her weight on her sprained ankle, and began moving toward the back of the cubicle, when the enveloping curtains were pulled back. He was there after all, a bandage across his forehead, his arm in a sling, his bad-boy smile in place, despite the fact that she'd managed to split his lip when she'd punched him.
She managed not to throw herself into his arms. She froze, looking at him. “You never told me. What happened to your beautiful hair?”
“I needed to blend in. You can't guard someone if you stand out like a parrot.”
“You cut it for me?”
She was waiting for a denial, but none came. “Someone was following you. I needed to make certain you were safe. I got here a little late, though. You were already in the hospital.”
“And you were there, too.”
He didn't deny that, either. “You want to get the hell out of here? They were talking about putting you under psychiatric observation when I went by.”
He was going to kill her. He was going to break her heart all over again, in tiny little pieces. She should just lie down and wait for it to pass. But she only wanted to lie down with him.
“I thought you'd be halfway to Tokyo by now,” she said, stalling.
“Not without you.”
Oh, man, she was so screwed. He was bad enough when he was giving her shit. Right now he was looking at her as if she was the most precious thing on earth, and she knew what she looked and smelled like. The world had turned upside down.
“I don't suppose you love me,” she said. “Even a little bit?”
“Don't be an idiot, Ji-chan. Why else would I be here? Now, do you want to stay here or do you want to prove you're really crazy and come with me?”
“Will you grow your hair again?”
“If you want me to.”
“Then tell me.”
“You're not going to make this easy, are you? Su-chan warned me about you.”
“She warned me, too. Tell me.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Aishiteru,” he muttered.
“In English.”
“I love you.”
She beamed at him. “I love you, too. Now, let's get the hell out of here.”
“Holy motherfucker, yes!” he said, relieved. And a moment later they gone.
MIRA
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1606-2 FIRE AND ICE
Copyright © 2008 by Anne Kristine Stuart Ohlrogge .
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