The yakuza flinched. Wide, dilated eyes bounced between them. He muttered a curse in Japanese and clammed up.
Ash crouched beside him, close but somehow unreachable. “Look at me.”
Rick felt the subtle shift the moment it happened. The guy’s body loosened under his grip, limbs uncoiling like someone had cut his strings. His head lifted. Eyes met Ash’s, helpless.
Ash’s voice kissed the night. “Let’s try again. Who sent you?”
Rick stared, fascinated. He was witnessing the trick from the first row. Ash’s tone wasn’t angry. It was worse. Gentle, precise. A scalpel disguised as silk.
The kobun trembled. “I—I had orders. After what you did at Dock Nine… they said you stole someone. Beat the hell out of the crew. We were told to shoot on sight.”
Jesus,Rick thought.What the hell did you get into, Ash?
Ash didn’t blink. “How did you know where to find me?”
The guy let out a brittle laugh. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Ash tilted his head. “Should I?”
“I used to see you at the Eclipse. We hooked up once. About a year ago.” His voice cracked. “When I saw the stash house footage, I recognized you right away.”
Rick’s jaw tensed. Without thinking, he pressed his knee down harder. The yakuza yelped. Rick eased up, growling to himself.
Ash leaned closer, eyes shimmering. “That’ll make things easier.”
Rick stiffened. He wanted to say something, but stopped. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t natural. The air felt charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. Akiyama’s eyes glazed over, lips parting. Ash touched his cheek—gently, almost tender—and the silence that followed was thick enough to drown in.
“You’re going to go back,” he murmured, voice velvet-dark. “Say the target was neutralized. Nothing left to chase. I’m dead.”
The yakuza blinked once. Twice. Nodded slowly.
Rick surged upright, yanking him to his feet by the collar. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? He tried to kill you. Tried to killme.He ventilated my car! And you want to send him home with a pat on the ass?”
Ash rose slowly, those fathomless eyes now locked on Rick. “And what do you think happens if we don’t? You haul him in, they’ll just send another. And another. Until they get it right.”
Rick’s gaze flicked over the young henchman. Up close, he was all bone and bruises, fear lurking under the defiance. More a boy than an assassin. A pawn on someone else’s board.
Ash’s voice softened, but the iron stayed beneath. “This is the only way. Let him bury me. Let them stop looking.”
“I’m a cop, dammit,” Rick growled. “I don’t just let hitmen walk.”
“You owe me, Slade. I gave you a lead when no one else could.”
“And I pulled you out of the fire. I’d reckon that puts me in the lead.”
Ash stepped closer. Too close. “Please, Rick.”
Rick’s mouth opened and shut. Hearing Ash using his first name hit differently. It sounded more personal, more intimate than it had any right to. Was it honest, or just another honeyed lie? Was he working that dark charm on him now? His head pulsed. His shoulder throbbed. The Eldorado slouched crooked in the road, one headlight out, grill shredded. His whole night had gone to hell in a handbasket laced with dynamite. And yet…
“Fuck.” He snapped the cuffs off and stepped back.
Ash’s eyes lingered on him. “Thank you.”
Rick didn’t meet them. “You did something to him,” he muttered, watching the dazed yakuza rub his wrists. “Same thing you did to Hayes.”Maybe the same thing you’re doing to me.
Ash didn’t answer. Just turned to Akiyama. “What will you tell youroyabun?”
“Target’s dead,” he said flatly. “Body dumped in the river. Shingo got killed in the crossfire. No witnesses.”
