I’m no stranger to pain, but the man’s strength makes it feel like my face is being split in half.
I’m caught in a nauseating wave of dizziness, my cheek and jaw throbbing, and when the man lets go of my hoodie, I slump back onto the tiles. Gasping for air, tears sneak out of my eyes, my mind too stunned to form a coherent thought.
“Bring the fucker,” I hear the man say in English, his accent American.
Two men come to hook their hands under my armpits, then I’m dragged through the restaurant. I let out a groan, my head lolling to the side.
My vision comes and goes, and I see flashes of scared faces. Out on the sidewalk, I’m dragged past the lifeless body of Masaki. Even though he was never nice to me, I still feel a pang of loss.
I don’t see Kentaro, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder if he managed to get away.
So much for being my guard.
My senses start to grow sharper again, and as we reach a sedan, I begin to struggle in an attempt to get free. The two men don’t even break a sweat as they stuff me into the trunk of a car, and when it slams shut, engulfing me in darkness, a distressed sound escapes me.
I hear muffled voices, and a few seconds later, the engine starts.
Lifting my hands, I frantically search the trunk for anything I can use as a weapon, but there’s nothing.
With every mile they drive, my heartbeat speeds up until I’m breathless, and a cold sweat dampens my hair and skin.
My face aches all over, and lifting a trembling hand, I probe my already swelling cheek and jaw.
It’s only then that the realization hits like a ten-pound hammer.
They’re probably going to kill me.
An icy shiver ghosts over my entire body, and my tongue goes numb with terror.
I hate my life, but I don’t want to die.
I want to see Ryo again. Maybe once he takes over, he will give me back my life and protect me.
That’s the hope that’s kept me going all these years.
With my panicked gasps filling the air, I struggle not to burst out in tears.
The car comes to a stop, and instantly, my heart flutters like a caged bird. Every muscle in my body tenses, and when I hear footsteps right outside the trunk and it opens, I turn onto my back and begin to hit and kick with all my might.
It’s useless, though.
A man I haven’t seen before delivers two quick punches to my head, the blows rattling my brain so much I’m swallowed by darkness. For the longest moment, it sounds like I’m underwater, and I can’t regain control of my senses.
I have no idea how much time passes, but once my hearing and sight begin to return, I hear the sound of painful grunts coming from Kentaro. He must’ve survived the attack and has also been captured.
It feels like I’m lying on a hard surface, and for a few seconds, I listen while trying to make sense of my surroundings.
“Do you know who I am?” I hear a deep voice growl, his tone dark and ruthless.
“Baka,” Kentaro spits. “The Yakuza will kill you.”
I dare to open my eyes a little, and seeing Kentaro in a kneeling position in front of the man who hit me in the restaurant kitchen, more icy terror pours through my veins.
Where I thought he was the most attractive man I had ever seen when I first laid eyes on him, all I see now is a vicious monster.
There’s blood pooling by Kentaro’s knee from the gunshot to his thigh, and his face is covered with cuts and bruises.
I notice we’re in some kind of hangar. Outside, I see part of a jet and black SUVs and sedans.
