Masaki waited a second more, until Stein was in perfect position, then pushed the boxes over until they collapsed on Stein. In doing so, Masaki lost his balance too, toppling over with the boxes as well. His gun slid across the floor as he attempted to break his fall.
Slightly stunned by the fall, Stein shook his head, and locked eyes on Masaki’s spinning gun at the same time. They both lunged for it, scrambling on the floor on hands and knees, trying to wrap their fingers around it.
In the end, Stein’s position placed him an inch closer to the gun, and he snatched it up a second before Masaki could get to it.
Masaki lay sprawled on the floor, half sitting, half lying down. He watched Stein carefully stand up as he kept the gun pointed at him. With a sinister smile and an overt air of confidence, Stein touched two fingers to his own brow in a mock salute to Masaki.
“‘O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won—’”
Masaki reached for his backup weapon attached to his ankle, aimed, and fired before Stein could recite another line from the famous Whitman poem. Simultaneously, Masaki heard the loud thunder of another gun fire, and waited for the impact, for the pain, and darkness of death to come. At such close range, there was no way he would survive.
He waited to see the bright light of the other side. Certain that this was the point an old film reel of his life should be slowly moving across his gaze. But at the moment, the only memory he could form in his mind was the very second he’d seen Oshun for the first time, and his need to make her his.
He heard more voices. Some familiar, but most not, as he continued to wait for the nothingness he believed death was supposed to bring. His gaze focused once more on Stein, refusing to give that bastard the satisfaction of seeing Masaki cower in fear. Stein wore a look of surprise on his face. His hand pressed to his chest, as a thick, spreading stream of blood slipped through his fingers.
A second later, Stein dropped to the floor. Masaki saw Lieutenant Smyth standing with his gun drawn, and smoke wafting in the air from the tip of its barrel.
After a quick glance down at himself, Masaki realized he hadn’t been shot. Both Masaki’s and the lieutenant’s bullets had neutralized Stein before he’d had a chance to fire at Masaki.
“I told you, Yamaguchi,” the smiling lieutenant said. “Be easy. We got this.”
E P I L O GU E
O shun stood on the Canarsie Pier and smiled as the salty air tickled her skin. The moon, high in the sky, shone a calm trail of light across the water. The tranquil scene before her belied the near-catastrophic events of the night, soothing the excited energy that still burned through her.
They’d survived.
She’d heard the gunshots from the surveillance truck. She’d prayed Masaki wasn’t the one dead when she heard Lieutenant Smyth report there were two dead bodies present. The fear that came with the wild scenarios clouding her mind nearly broke her as details were reported to them at an excruciatingly slow pace.
In all her years running the streets of Brownsville, fear had never consumed her like that. In hindsight, she knew it came from only one reason. She blamed herself for lying to Masaki, for messing with his focus before he stepped in front of Stein.
“I’ve always loved this spot,” Masaki stated. “It’s always calmed me down when the world around me seemed to be losing its fucking mind.”
She nodded, then turned around to face her lover. His arms were already open, waiting for her to step in. She quickly moved into the space and collapsed against the hard plane of his chest as soon as he wrapped her in his embrace,
“When I heard there were two men dead, I was so scared, Mas. I thought I’d killed you. I thought you’d died hating me.”
Between the tears that slid down her cheeks, and the way she buried her face into his chest, Oshun’s words were muffled into indistinguishable sobs. It was rare that anything moved her enough to bring forth tears. In her business, tears were weakness, and Oshun was never weak. But as she stood on the pier, wrapped in his arms, she understood that the only time she’d ever been weak was when she’d felt helpless in saving the man she loved. These tears weren’t weakness, they were relief, a celebration of the gift of a second chance.
“Oshun, you saved me,” Masaki answered in hushed tones as he lifted one of his hands to stroke her locs. “I kept hearing you yelling at me about being a hot head. It finally clicked when I was in that warehouse. I’m not happy that you kept Stein’s involvement in this mess away from me. But now, I understand why you did.”
He placed a lone finger under her chin, meeting her watery gaze with a smile. “This night has taught me that we’ve gotta do better at this trust thing,” he stated as he wiped the tears from her face. “We’ve got to stop giving each other reasons to mistrust one another.”
“What do you mean, Masaki? Giving up the lives we live, leaving behind the roles we play?” She shook her head. “We’ve both seen what would’ve happened if we weren’t here. Aesop and Izzy would’ve sold our communities out to turn a buck. I don’t want that for Brownsville, not after the sacrifices I’ve made to make it a place worth calling home.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, effectively bringing down her ire. The movement forced her to focus on him, instead of the problem she felt creeping up at her.
“Oshun, we are both where we need to be, where our people need us to be. But what we lack is openness between us. We’re so used to living secret lives, and dealing with things on our own, we didn’t know how to turn to each other when it counted.” He slid his hands down her arms, wrapping his fingers around hers. “I want to know all of you. And I want you to know all of me. I don’t want to continue bedding my enemy. Instead, I want to share my world with my greatest ally.”
Hope bloomed inside of her.
“So, a truce? A union between our two families?” She smiled as the idea turned over in her mind. “That’s your suggestion?”
He nodded.
“And what if our people, or our enemies, don’t like that idea?”
He leaned down, joining his lips to hers. The demanding press of his flesh against her mouth made her ache. She moaned her satisfaction. Needing to taste more of him, she opened her mouth just slightly, allowing him to tangle his tongue with hers as they stood on the empty pier unbothered by the lack of privacy.
