Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) (36 page)

“But I won’t,” the voice said softly.

The bolt was pulled back, and Victoria sighed with relief.

As she pulled open the door, Gina fired. Victoria clutched her chest and looked at her in shock, obviously not having any idea who’d just shot her, then slumped onto the bloodstained floor, the flies already circling.

Slowly Gina lowered her gun. “Odds are all these gunshots were heard by someone,” she said calmly. “Couldn’t risk the police finding you here. Letting you free.”

“You think this is over?” Victoria gurgled.

“No, I don’t,” Gina said. “Because I’m going to make sure every last one of you sadistic bastards is hunted down. No matter how much it costs. How long it takes. I’m going to make sure every single one of you is exterminated.”

She aimed and pulled the trigger again, then once more for good measure. She hurried up the stairs to where Tasanee was waiting, sobbing quietly beside Jarun. “Where the hell is Kannon?”

Her answer came an instant later.

“Gina! Jarun!” Ryota called. “I need help now!”

Kannon’s normally sharp vision was blurry as the SUV jolted him around, Ryota driving like a madman, almost putting the vehicle on two wheels as they rounded one tight corner after another. Above him Gina pressed a blood-soaked cloth to his torso, the front of her own clothing red from him.

He was dying.

“Zoe has Ryota’s number,” he said, his own voice sounding distant as he tried to focus on her tear-streaked face. “When she doesn’t hear from me, she’ll call. Please look after her.”

“She is going to hear from you,” Gina choked out, and he felt the sudden deep pressure of her on his wound. “You’re going to be okay.”

He took her arm, his grip as weak as a child’s. She shouldn’t worry. Especially not for him. “I’m already okay,” he said. “Because all of you are safe.”

“We’re almost there,” said Jarun, trying to focus on his phone as the SUV went airborne for a few seconds before landing with a jarring thud. “There’s a clinic less than two kilometers away.”

“Hear that?” Gina said, her lips nearly touching his. “You’re going to make it.”

His eyes felt so heavy. Every breath felt labored. If he could feel pain he was sure he would have died from shock by now.

“Sure,” he said as darkness crept over him. “Can’t miss our third date.”

GINA FELT AS if she were in some kind of alternate universe.

She, and the leaders of the eleven major gangs that ran Bangkok, were sitting in a circle on the floor of the forgotten temple in 70 Rai. Gone were the bar and chairs where pedophiles used to lounge, painted over in sunny yellow was the bizarre script which had defaced the walls and, most importantly, restored was the statue of Buddha, symbolizing the triumph of wisdom, ethics and action. The temple even had a new name—Wat Namchai.

Namchai was an ancient Buddhist virtue, encompassing spontaneous warmth and compassion, the making of sacrifices for friends and family, and the courage to extend hospitality to strangers—and enemies. It was a bizarre name for a den of thieves and cutthroats; a perfect one for the new peace and stability she was determined to introduce to the Bangkok underworld. And, as it was, the first meeting of the newly formed Namchai Circle had gone along as smooth as a meditation pool. Only one more piece of business to conclude.

Dr. Chaiboonma, the meeting chair, nodded to Ryota, who stood by the temple doors. Opening them, he admitted Alak Montri into the chamber, along with the cool rush of rain-swept air. “Please join us, Alak,” said Dr. Chaiboonma, gesturing across from him to a place deliberately left open in the circle.

Montri strode over to the group, regarding the assembled as if they all stunk. And from the look he gave her, she reeked to high heaven. “I see you’ve formed a new organization.”

Dr. Chaiboonma replied as if he was channeling Buddha himself. “Alak, you have long been a respected member of this community, but you are neither cooperative nor inclusive. Though you are a great warrior, violence is not the only way. We are here to offer you a place in something much larger than any one of us.”

Montri snorted. “Is this meant to appease me?”

“Don’t mistake kindness for weakness,” Dr. Chaiboonma replied, still sounding divinely inspired. “If you do not accept your place among us, you’ll suffer the same united wrath that drove the rakshasa from Bangkok these past two months.”

“So join or die? Is that it?” Alak scoffed. “Hardly a choice.”

And still Dr. Chai spoke from on high. “A vote was held as to whether to offer you a position among us. A motion put forth by Gina, the woman responsible for rescuing you, beheading the rakshasa leadership, capturing John Wakai, and saving your daughter’s life. The vote was even until Gina decided to sway it to give you the opportunity before you. I suggest you demonstrate some humility and take it.”

Montri looked about the circle, and he couldn’t have liked what he saw. The most inviting response was Lwin’s poker face, so when his gaze shifted to Gina, she gave a little friendly wave.

“I accept your offer,” he said through clenched jaw.

Dr. Chaiboonma smiled and bowed. “That makes you the thirteenth member of the Namchai Circle. I will now update you on two important orders of business that have already been addressed. The first is concerning John Wakai.”

“I’m amazed he’s still alive,” replied Montri.

“And he’ll remain so,” Gina added.

She couldn’t tell if Montri was more angry or astonished, but he was certainly a good amount of both. “Why?”

“Because Jarun was instrumental in the defeat of the rakshasas,” she expanded. “In return for his service, both he and Wakai will be exiled from the city. Come the end of this meeting, they’ll be driven to the airport and put on the first plane to anywhere else.”

“Wakai’s a dangerous traitor!” Montri protested. “Let him live and he’ll only stir up trouble.”

Oh, the irony. “Wakai’s broken in body and spirit, and he’s friendless save for Jarun. He’s of no danger to anyone anymore.”

“Well, isn’t that forgiving?” Montri sneered. “I suppose it doesn’t matter that he contributed to the murder of your father.”

Gina straightened her back and locked eyes with the father of her god-sister. “It’s not an issue of forgiveness, Alak. A deal was made with Jarun, and we Zaffini keep our word.”

“You mean you Zaffini. You’re the only one left.”

He’d omitted Darae. “I am one yet many.” There, she could Buddha-talk, too.

“And who are you to hold a position in this circle?” he countered. “You think that just because your father was a friend to Bangkok that makes you some kind of princess?”

There was divine intervention from Dr. Chai. “That’s the other item you should be apprised of. Gina has been elected as the first head of the Namchai Circle. For the next year she’ll be the chair of our monthly meetings, and be in charge of determining our agendas, mediating between our members and speaking on our behalf when dealing with other syndicates.”

“And what, may I ask, did she do to deserve such an honor?” Montri demanded.

“She sacrificed,” came Lwin, her ancient voice fierce. “A man she loved died in the effort to defeat the enemies you let past our gates. What more would you ask of her, Alak? What more should she give us to prove her loyalty?”

The memory still seared her. The blood. The pain. Saying goodbye. She gritted her teeth, and forced herself to focus on the present. All she could do now was to be strong. To honor him.

“Come next year we’ll have another election,” Dr. Chai said. “If you think she’s done a poor job, vote against her then, Alak. In the meantime, I believe we’ve covered our agenda for this first meeting. Thank you, everyone for attending. If there’re no objections, we’ll adjourn.”

Quietly the group stood, each bowing in respect to the Buddha, and one by one they filed out of the temple until only Gina, Lwin and Ryota were left. Gina plunked down on the Buddha’s foot. Lwin edged to her side and took Gina’s hand into her own.

“Would you like to come for tea?” she asked.

Gina shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lwin. I’d love to another time, but I have something very important I need to do. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Lwin tilted her head. “Going to see someone?”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “You could say I’ve got a date to keep.”

Gina kneeled before Pricha’s spirit house, her hands together in prayer, eyes shut tight. It wasn’t her first sweet love that squeezed her chest today, but a loss far more recent. The world would probably remember him as a bad guy. Some villain they were better off without. Only she’d known him. Loved him. And she knew that in his heart he’d been honorable. Decent. Kind.

“I wish we’d had more time together,” she whispered. “Wish I could have been there sooner. I’ll look after things for you, I promise. And I’ll never, never forget you.”

Her phone chimed.

Third date. My place. Map attached.

Kannon.

What was he doing out of the hospital?

Forget that. Where did her man of mystery live? She clicked on the map and scrolled up, down, sideways. Crap. Halfway to Malaysia from the looks of it.

She went back to the first part of the message.
Third date
. Two words that felt as if she’d won the lottery.

No one had expected him to live. Not the doctors, not Darae recovering on another floor, not Ryota, pale and tense. Not Lwin, not Dr. Chai. Nobody.

In the beginning, every breath Kannon took, every heartbeat, was a miracle. She found herself staring at his chest, willing it to rise and fall, rise and fall, listening for the hoarse wheeze of the respirator in and out, in and out. After the surgery, he was placed in a private room. Gina knew what that meant. He wasn’t going to live, and they were giving family and friends privacy.

Only they didn’t know Kannon, and they didn’t know her. After the first two days, the staff brought in a cot for her. After the first five days, an admin staff approached her about how his stay was going to be financed, and Gina hugged the insensitive bastard because it meant that not just she thought he was going to make it.