Unraveled (2 page)

“Of course.”

Shiori slid her laptop closer and started opening screens. Her fingers fumbled on
the keys beneath Knox’s penetrating stare. “Done.”

“Do you disagree with my decision?” he asked coolly.

She met his gaze. “No, Shihan, I don’t.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Shihan.”

She closed her laptop and stood. “That’s the first time you’ve acted like you deserve
the title.”

*   *   *

THURSDAY
night classes were always crazy. Still, it surprised her to hear, “Shihan needs you
in practice room one.”

Shiori glanced up at Deacon and moved toward him, standing in the open doorway. “What’s
going on?”

“I was filling in for Zach in the yellow belt class, and uh, well, now there are a
couple of students who are cryin’.”

“You made kids cry?”

“The fuck if I know what I did wrong. But you can hear those two girls bawlin’—”

“You made little
girls
cry?”

Deacon looked away. “Just go help Knox.”

She passed through the open training areas. The wails assaulted her ears before she
reached the room.

Knox had two little girls, age seven or so, up at the front of the class. With the
way the building echoed, the girls’ cries were actually louder outside the room. She
shot a quick glance to the other students, a dozen boys and girls who were watching
Shihan with wide eyes.

Shiori set her hand on Knox’s shoulder. For the briefest moment she thought he might
act instinctively and put her in a wrist lock.

But he cranked his head around and gave her a surprised look. “What are you doing
here?”

“Deacon said you needed help. What’s going on?”

“Near as I can figure, that one”—Knox pointed to the dark-haired girl sobbing with
her forehead on her knees—“attempted a wheel kick and her foot caught
her
”—he gestured to another dark-haired girl sobbing with her forehead on her knees—“in
the face. Then girl number two pushed her down and tried to choke her out.”

“Are either one hurt?”

He shook his head. “Go back to your class. I’ve got this handled.”

Right. “What set off the waterworks?”

“Deacon put them in time-out for the rest of class and said he’d talk to their parents
about banning them from watching MMA TV shows.”

Seemed reasonable. MMA was great for showcasing high ability levels for different
styles of martial arts, but kids didn’t grasp
that they shouldn’t try those moves until they’d been trained properly. “What are
their names?”

“No clue.”

“Mind if I try to talk to them?”

“Have at it.”

Shiori tapped girl number one on the foot. “Hey. You need to stop crying and get a
grip.”

Knox snorted. “Great help. And believe it or not, they
are
calmer than they were a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t you just have the magic touch?” she said sarcastically.

“No, but I do have two little sisters.”

He did? Why hadn’t she known that?

Knox touched girl number two on the arm. “Can you talk to me, sweetheart?”

Girl number two raised her head. Her sobs had faded into hiccupping sniffles. “Addy
is mean. She said she’s gonna get her orange belt before me so she doesn’t have to
be in the same class as me because I suck.”

Girl number one looked up. Holy shit. They were identical twins. She retorted, “Abby
is just mad because I’m better at jujitsu than she is.”

“Are not!” Abby yelled.

“Am too!” Addy yelled back.

“Are not!” Abby yelled louder.

“Am too, and I don’t want anyone thinking that you’re me, because I
am
better!” Addy shouted.

“Girls,” Shiori warned.

A warning that didn’t stop the escalating screaming match.

Knox rolled his eyes. Then he sat between the two warring girls. “Enough.”

“She started it,” Abby said sullenly.

Addy tried to kick her.

Knox put his hand on Addy’s leg. “Ms. Hirano, there’s another
class in room two. Since Addy thinks she’s ready to move belt levels, will you please
escort her into that class?”

“Right now?”

“Yep. Abby, say goodbye to your sister.”

“Come on, Addy,” Shiori said.

Addy didn’t budge. Abby gasped. “You can’t do that! We have to be in the same class.”

Shiori shrugged. “No, you don’t. My brother and I didn’t even go to the same martial-arts
school. Plus, the crying and carrying on makes me wonder if you even like taking jujitsu
classes.”

Another gasp—from Addy this time. “But it’s our favorite thing!”

“Then maybe you should act like it. Come on, Addy. Let’s get you settled in the other
class.”

“Please don’t put me in a different class,” Addy pleaded with Knox.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Abby added. “Addy is helping me learn better. Please
let her stay.”

“You’re both sure this is what you want?” Knox asked.

They both nodded.

“Fine. But your actions do have consequences. You will sit out the remainder of class,
and if I see any grappling, hitting, or kicking I will have words with your parents.”

“We’ll be good, Shihan. We promise,” Addy said. She mimed zipping her lips, and Abby
did the same.

Knox patted them each on the leg and stood. “Pay attention because I may test you
after class.”

“I’m impressed,” Shiori admitted to him grudgingly.

“My sisters yelled and screamed at each other, but the second Mom tried to separate
them, they were best buddies again. I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“Smart.”

“All right,” Knox said, standing in front of the class. “Get up. Take off your belts.
At the count of ten, we’ll have a belt-tying
contest.” He inclined his head to Shiori. “Ms. Hirano? Will you lead the countdown
in Japanese?”

“Ready?
Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu, ju!
”

A flurry of belt tying ensued.

“I’ve always wondered. Did you and Ronin ever take jujitsu classes together?” Knox
asked.

“No. He was always way more advanced than me. Our dad didn’t feel the same need to
push me into it like he did Ronin. Our mother is the one who insisted I train—probably
preparing me to spar with my grandfather.” She paused. “But once when I was about
five I asked Ronin to practice with me.”

“What happened?”

“He kicked me so hard—on accident—that he broke two of my ribs. He felt horrible.
So horrible that he agreed to play dolls with me every day until I was better.” Shiori
shot him a sideways glance. “And no, you cannot tell Sensei Black you know that story.”

Knox grinned. “No worries. I played dolls with my sisters, too, and I was a helluva
lot older than eight.”

“Done!” a towheaded boy in the front row yelled.

“Good job, Dylan. Now you get to come up front and pick what we do next.” Knox leaned
down and whispered in his ear.

His ease with younger kids didn’t surprise her, since the man got along with everyone.

Including you?

Yes. They’d forged an unspoken truce yesterday after Knox had knocked Deacon down
a peg, proving he could lead.

Now if they could just get through the last day of the week without incident, she
might believe—just might—they’d survive the next nine weeks.

*   *   *

IN
the locker room Friday night, Fee asked Shiori, “You coming to Diesel with us?”

“Who’s us?” Although she hadn’t seen Knox since she’d arrived
to teach that afternoon, Zach had mentioned Knox was in the Crow’s Nest, getting an
overview of the classes.

“Black Arts and ABC’s finest. It’s Friday night and I’m on the prowl.”

Shiori pulled the ponytail holder out and shook her hair free. “Had any luck finding
prey?”

“Last month I met a bull rider from Brazil. Sweet. Kind of shy until I bought him
a few shots. We ended up going back to his hotel and
ay caramba
. He was built, hung like a bull, and knew how to use his hips.” She sighed. “I loved
that he talked dirty. Made me realize how much I missed hearing my language in those
intimate moments.” Fee gave her a curious look. “What about you?”

“Japanese men aren’t exactly known for dirty talk. So I prefer American guys.” Shiori
smiled. “Not just the ones who can talk dirty, but the guys who know how to act down
and dirty.”

“Plenty of those at Diesel. So what’dya say?”

“I’m in. Is Katie coming?”

Fee’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have against Katie?”

Besides the fact she’s a decade younger, a foot taller, and she’s a blond amazon with
big tits?
“I hate that she literally hangs on the Black Arts instructors when we go out.”

“The guys might’ve invited her,” Fee warned. “She’s fun and generous in buying drinks.
She hangs on the guys because she’s a born flirt. It comes to her as naturally as
breathing. Best thing to do is ignore it.”

“You’re jumping to her defense? Last I knew you wanted to bitch-slap her into next
week—your words, Fee, not mine. So what changed?”

She smeared on frosted pink lipstick. “She’s really trying to make Black and Blue
Promotions into a larger entity. She’s smarter than anyone gives her credit for—especially
my pigheaded brother and yours. Neither Ronin nor Blue gives her ideas any consideration.
I feel for her because I suspect she’s been dealing with that attitude her whole life.”

“What makes you say that?” Shiori asked.

“I heard a phone call between her and her big-money big daddy. He was a total asshole
to her. I saw her crying afterward. It just . . . gave me a different impression of
her. She struggles like the rest of us with all the family shit.”

Of course Fee played on the one thing that would earn Shiori’s sympathy. “Fine. I’ll
give her another chance.”

“That oughta keep her on the straight and narrow, because you scare the crap out of
her.”

Shiori flashed her teeth. “Smart girl.”

Fee shouldered her purse. “Got a few bucks for bus fare?”

“I hate riding the bus. I could call Tom and he’d be here in fifteen minutes.”

“No car and driver tonight, moneybags. It’ll be good for you to rub elbows with the
common folk.”

Shiori insulted her in Japanese.

Fee shot back a Portuguese phrase.

Then they both laughed.

“Come on. Booze and boys await us.”

The bus ride was tolerable. Diesel was just starting to fill up, but Gil had scored
a corner table. Blue sat next to Katie.

Fee said, “What’s up, guys?” Then she frowned at Gil. “I thought you were closing
down the dojo?”

“Knox said he’d handle it.”

“I talked to him, and he said he’d be here right afterward,” Katie added.

Of course she’d know Knox’s schedule.

Giving her a second chance, remember?

A pitcher of beer and one of margaritas were in the center of the table.

“Pull up a chair and have a drink,” Blue urged.

Both Fee and Shiori opted for margaritas.

After the toast and the usual “Thank god it’s the weekend” comments, Fee leaned over
and whispered, “You’ve already got one admirer eyeing you.”

“Where?”

“At nine o’clock. The guy in the suit at the bar?”

Shiori casually turned her head and looked at the guy. Cute. Lanky. Malleable. He
smiled at her. She smiled back.

Just as she started to get up, a pair of hands landed on her shoulders.

Proprietary hands.

KNOX
had been oddly elated to see that Shiori had shown up for a night out with the Black
Arts crew. As he approached the table, her gorgeous fall of black hair had swished
over her shoulder when she’d turned her head toward the bar.

He’d followed her gaze to see what’d caught her attention and some jackass in a three-piece
suit was making eyes at her.

Give it up, buddy. She’s not interested.

But then Shiori tilted her head and a crease appeared in her cheek, as if she was
smiling at him. As if she was interested in him. Then her ass started to come out
of the chair.

Not happening.

Knox pushed down on Shiori’s shoulders and put his mouth against her ear. “Going someplace?”

“Yes. Why do you care?”

Her silken tresses teased the side of his face. Her spicy scent filled his nose. She
always smelled so damn good. “Because I’m surprised to see you here.”

She angled her head slightly to look at him. “Why?”

“You and Fee don’t usually hang out with us on Friday nights.”

“We work with you guys all week and we need a break from all that testosterone, which
is why we go elsewhere.”

“Or you don’t come out with us because you’re afraid we’d cock block you.”

“Right.” Shiori blinked at him. “You’re serious.”

“Yep. If we saw the loser guys you planned on hooking up with at that dive bar you
two troll in, we’d . . .
encourage
those jackoffs to look elsewhere.” His lips brushed her ear and he felt her shiver.
“Like the fucker at the bar who was probably texting his wife while he tried to lure
you in with a doofy smile. Be happy he’s gone.”

Shiori leaned back to look at the empty barstool. “Nice going.”

“You’re welcome.”

Next thing he knew she had two fingers squeezing the skin on the inside of his knee.
“Don’t cock block me again, Knox. You’re not my big brother. You don’t get to decide
who I do and don’t fuck.”

Jesus. That tiny pinch stung. “You can do better than him. You would’ve broken him
like a twig, She-Cat.”

“Maybe that’s what I like.”

He smiled. “What a coincidence. I like that, too.” He stood but left his hands on
her.

She pinched him harder.

Why the fuck that made him hard made no sense. He moved away from her and scooted
into the booth next to Katie. Not because he had a thing for her, but because it put
him directly across from Shiori. He poured himself a beer. “So what’d I miss?”

“Nothing.” Katie sat between Knox and Blue. “I thought your MMA guys were coming tonight
and cutting loose with you.”

“Just Deacon. He’s parking his car. Anyone in particular you were hoping to see?”
Knox teased.

“Just you, Shihan,” she cooed back.

A noise sounded from across the table, and he looked over to see a sneer on Shiori’s
lips.

Was she annoyed by his harmless flirting with Katie? That was interesting.

Deacon showed up and straddled the chair next to Fee. “S’up, buttercup?”

“Feelin’ fly, wise guy.”

They did some weird fist-bump handshake thing.

“Are we ordering food?” Deacon asked.

“Not at ten at night. You are a bottomless pit.”

He patted his belly. “I’m in training, darlin’. So will you help me burn off calories
by—”

“No! You’re such a pervert.” Fee shoved him.

“You’re the pervert. I was asking if you’d two-step with me later.”

“I don’t know what that is. Like the tango?”

“Lord, I miss Texas sometimes.” He filled a mug with beer. “What about you Shi-Shi?
You know how to dance?”

“In a club with my friends? Yes. But the moving-around-the-floor-with-a-man kind?
Uh. No.”

“You don’t know how to slow dance?” Knox asked.

Shiori shrugged. “Not really.”

“So tell us about this two-timing thing,” Fee said.

“Two-step,” Deacon corrected.

Knox watched Shiori as she listened to Fee and Deacon. Normally he tried not to stare
at her, but it was hard not to, with her exotic looks. Flawless ivory- and rose-colored
skin tone. A heart-shaped face with a delicate jawline. Full lips. Topaz-colored eyes,
slightly angled in the corners. And that hair—a black sheet that shone like onyx and
fell in a straight line down her back.

Yes, Shiori turned heads. He could admit she’d turned his head the moment she’d shown
up at Black Arts, sliding into the back
row during one of his classes. Laughable really, that she’d believed her beauty, grace,
and power would go unnoticed.

After she’d demonstrated that her martial-arts skill level exceeded his, he’d gotten
pissy, hating that he’d felt threatened by the bit of a thing. Then he’d worried that
he’d lose his stature as Shihan—the highest-ranking belt after Sensei—because Shiori
was Ronin’s sister. She hadn’t pushed to take over his position, but she sure liked
lording it over him that she outranked him.

So he used that antagonistic nature between them to mask his fascination with her.
Ronin was his friend, his boss, and his mentor. No way could Knox admit he lusted
after Ronin’s little sister. Even when that sister was a thirty-five-year-old business
shark who could buy and sell small countries and kick the shit out of just about anyone.

As he’d gotten to know her over the past few months, he suspected what she showed
people of herself was only the surface view—just as her brother did.

“So? What do you think?”

Knox tore his gaze away from her—acting like a creeper much?—and focused on Katie
and Blue’s conversation.

“I said I’d consider it.
Deus
, woman,” Blue complained. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Because it’s a great idea.”

“What’s a great idea?” Fee asked her.

“Running a pro-bono self-defense clinic on a Saturday at the North Seventh Girls Club.”

“That’s in a rough part of town,” Knox said.

“I know. Which is all the more reason these girls need a self-defense class.”

“My guys are putting in extra training hours on Saturday, Katie. I can’t spare an
instructor,” Blue said.

“Ditto for us,” Knox said. “I can’t pull teachers away from the Saturday students.”

Shiori touched Katie’s hand when she was busy stirring her drink. “How many instructors
would you need?”

“I thought I’d limit the class to fifty. That way four instructors would be enough.
It’d just be basics.”

“If you set it up, I’ll do it,” Shiori offered.

“Really? Thank you!”

Knox hid his surprise that Shiori had volunteered.

“I’m in too,” Fee said. “Tasha isn’t working with the MMA guys, so she could be the
third instructor. I know Molly isn’t a teacher, but she’s passed the class and gone
on to take more classes. It’d be good for the girls to hear from a woman who’s survived
an attack.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Everyone’s gaze snapped to Deacon.

“Why not?” Katie demanded.

“Because Molly was traumatized, and she doesn’t need to relive that shit in front
of a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Leave her out of this.”

“If Molly were here, she’d remind you that you’re not the boss of her,” Shiori said
with a sniff.

Katie smirked. “Yeah, what she said. And it won’t hurt to ask her, at any rate.”

Deacon’s gaze winged between Shiori and Katie. “Since when do you two trust-fund babies
have Saturdays open to help the less fortunate? Ain’t that primo shopping time at
Saks?”

Christ, Deacon, do you have any fucking tact?

“Maybe the next time I’m there I’ll take you on as a charity case and buy you some
goddamn manners,” Katie snapped.

Fee put her hand over Deacon’s mouth when he started to retort. “We all wonder why
you don’t talk much, and when you do . . .
aye yi
, Yondan. Be nice or I won’t do that quick-step thing with you.”

The only person paying attention to their interaction was Gil.
Katie and Blue were back in a heated discussion. And Shiori was . . . looking straight
at him.

“Still mad at me for chasing off weasel dick from the bar?”

“Maybe.”

Knox grinned. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“That’s not in the cards for you . . . oh,
ever
, pervert.”

“You’re the perverted one, since I was talking about dancing.” He leaned forward.
“Come on. Dance with me.”

“Why are you being so insistent about this?”

Because I’d like to know what it’s like holding your body against mine when we’re
not trying to choke each other out.
“Because it’s a rite of passage that you missed—at least as part of your American
heritage. What kind of American would I be if I didn’t fill that gap?”

She rolled her eyes—but she didn’t say no.

Knox took that as a yes.

Immediately he was on his feet, moving in behind her.

Gil said, “Just a heads-up, Shiori. Dancing is nothing like grappling. But if he grabs
your ass, I expect to see a wicked hip throw from you.”

Everyone laughed. So Knox didn’t take her hand until they were out of heckling range.

Shiori looked at him when they stopped in the middle of the dance floor.

He put her hands on his shoulders and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling their
bodies close.

She tried to hold herself stiffly away from him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Relax. Move with me. Let your body rest against mine.”

“This feels unnatural.”

“You’re overthinking it. Close your eyes.”

She nestled her cheek against his chest and closed the distance between their lower
halves.

The slow, bluesy music was the perfect tempo to sway together.

When she sighed and melted into him, he felt the insane urge to press his lips to
the top of her head.

“This is nice,” she said softly.

“You really haven’t ever danced like this?”

“No. I went to an all-girls school. In college when I went out with my friends, we
went to clubs where we all danced in a group. We did some dirty dancing as a joke.”

“So no drunken groping and sloppy kisses at your friends’ wedding dances?”

“Wedding dances aren’t a big thing in Japan. Or at least not in my circle of friends.”

“Glad I’m your first.”

She laughed. “I’ll bet you had girls lined up to slow dance with you.”

A compliment? He waited for her to tag it with an insult, but she didn’t. “Yes, I
did. You’re looking at the slow-dancing stud of Westwood Hills Junior High.”

“And what made you such a hot commodity?”

“I was tall, for one thing. Other boys in my class hadn’t hit their growth spurts
yet. It was awkward for taller girls to dance with shorter boys. The other appeal
of dancing with thirteen-year-old Knox was I figured out girls might
say
they didn’t want a boy’s hand on their butt, but if you made the move gradually,
they didn’t notice until you’re rubbing circles on their ass and then they realize
they like it. So I could cop a feel, but not in a threatening way.”

Shiori tilted her head back. “You think I didn’t notice your big hand is on my ass?”

He grinned. “Well, you didn’t put me in a wrist lock, so I figured it was okay.”

While she kept her eyes on his, her hand traveled up his neck to the back of his head.
She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. Hard.

Sweet baby Moses, his knees nearly buckled.

What the ever-lovin’ fuck? How could he like that? Why did he want her to stop and
yet . . . at the same time he felt desperate for her to continue.

Knox returned his hand to her lower back.

She released him but kept the lock on his eyes.

“What?”

“Not the reaction I expected from you.”

“That’s not a reaction I expected to have either,” he said without anger or sarcasm.

“You confuse the hell out of me, Knox Lofgren.”

“The same could be said for you, Ms. Hirano.”

They studied each other, almost as if it were the first time they’d met.

Shiori curled her hand around his neck and stroked the pulse point by the hollow of
his throat. “How many songs have we danced to?”

Not enough. “Two. Why?”

“How long do you plan to keep me out here dancing with you?”

Knox slipped his hand up her back and beneath her hair to curl around the side of
her face. “Junior-high Knox had worked out a strategy that if he could keep a girl
in his arms, moving body to body, by song three she would let her kiss him.” His gaze
dropped to her mouth. She still had a bump on her lower lip from their angry grappling
match on Monday night. He swept his thumb over the mark. “Dammit, Shiori. I’m sorry
about making you bleed.”

“It’s rare for me to say this, but I deserved to get knocked down a peg. But if you
really wanted to prove you’re sorry . . .”

Their gazes met.

His cock had been behaving. But between the sexy way she’d commanded his attention
by pulling his hair and the invitation that she’d welcome his mouth on hers, his cock
immediately grew hard and hopeful.

“It’s my lucky day, because the third song hasn’t even started.” Knox tried to keep
his gaze secured on hers as he angled his head,
debating on a sweet or a fiery kiss, when an arm hooked around his neck, pulling him
away from Shiori.

“Quit hoggin’ her. My turn to show Shi-Shi how real dancin’ is done,” Deacon drawled.

One shot to the kidney and Deacon “Con Man” McConnell wouldn’t be dancing with anyone,
his masculine pride demanded. Who the fuck did Deacon think he was that he could
just interrupt a private moment?

Just as Knox was about to follow through with some bodily harm, Deacon wrapped his
hand around Knox’s neck and gave him a head butt. Under his breath Deacon said, “Sit
the fuck down.”

He broke Deacon’s hold and walked away, trying to keep his temper in check. Instead
of going back to the table, he detoured to the bar.

The bartender, a hot twentysomething with bleached hair and a fake tan, aimed a blindingly
white smile at him. “What’ll it be, handsome? Shot of Jack?”