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I take a seat beside her and ask her the obvious question. “Why not?”

“For one thing, I’m not Yakuza. And for another, I know nothing about them. I’d run them into the ground, and all the employees will be out of jobs and come after me. No, just no. I’ve had enough of people looking for me to last four lifetimes. I’m good.”

We sit in silence as she searches for some sort of clue for what to do.

I already have the answer, but I see everyone has always made decisions for her. Natalie has rarely done something because she thought it up. Not long-term at least. She might have left Los Angeles on her own, but her choices of location were based on who could apply fake fingernails on top of permanently damaged nail beds. She also had to stay away from anywhere the Yakuza could be. Mid-America was her only option.

“You want me to just listen or to help?” I look over when I feel her eyes on me. “Your choice. I can sit here and just be the man you bounce ideas off, or I can help you see things from a different angle. Not suggestions on what to do, just things to think about from an outsider’s perspective.”

“Help, please,” she whispers, and I’ve never wanted to kiss her more. To pull her into my arms and declare here and now that I will always help. Always. No “please” is required.

Instead, I just nod and say, “Okay.”

I take a deep breath and drag my hands up and down my jean-clad thighs to wipe off the sweat and give myself a moment to pull back my need to soothe her in my arms.

“First off, no one is asking you to be Yakuza. Your grandfather is old, and when people are old, they think of legacies. You’re his only direct line. Of course he wants to give it to you and not someone like your father or stepsister. You’ve also proven you can handle things without others knowing who you are. You don’t flaunt your family name like they do, I’m assuming. From a business viewpoint, that’s who you want leading it. Not someone who makes waves by throwing their name around or causing scenes to get attention. You want someone who’s constant and does what’s needed, no matter if it sucks.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.” She brings her thumb up to her teeth and starts biting her nail.

I find it cute, but I’m not finished yet. I grab her hand away from her mouth and hold it in both of mine as I draw her attention back to me, ignoring the stupid grin trying to tug at my lips when she doesn’t pull away.

“And you will never be unprotected again. As the head of your family’s businesses, despite not being in the Yakuza, you’ll hold a certain role that will need to be protected. Without you as the head, the Takahashi family could lose its stronghold in this sector, which isn’t something anyone wants, I gather.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only a few people seemed put off by you being here. They must know it has something to do with the business, but they don’t have the full details. Business keeps the money flowing, and if that means you come with it, you’re tolerated. However, once it gets out that you’re leading it, you’ll be revered.”

“Won’t I just have a bigger target on my back?”

I shake my head slowly. “Not with me by your side.”

She scoffs. “Atom, you can’t be serious.”

“It’s Cole, remember? And why can’t I?”

“Because you just can’t.” She pulls her hand away and stands, pacing in front of me while I stay seated on the bed. “You ‘married’ me to keep me from getting killed in some fucked-up motorcycle gang politics. Am I grateful? Of course. Despite me having some down moments and thinking being dead was the right thing, I don’t think I would have liked to be killed by them.”

“It’s a club.” My voice comes out harsh. Not because I give a damn if she calls it a gang or a club; it’s just an automatic response to correct someone when I hear the Hounds referred to as such.

No, what pisses me off is learning that Natalie was so depressed with all the shit going on in her life that she got as far as contemplating taking her own. My anger isn’t at her. I get it. I really do. She’s dealt with some serious shit in her past. But what has me grinding my teeth is that I didn’t see it. I overlooked it.

I heard her scream it at Psy and his guys on the camera when they shared the live stream of them hurting her, but I thought it was just a one-time thing that was more bluff than reality. But the way she just spoke… it sounds like it’s happened more than once, and as more than a bluff.

“Do you want to die now?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“Do you wish you were dead?”

“No. I mean, I did, but now I don’t have time to think about that.”

I take a breath and let it out slowly through my nose as I do that simple breathing technique again. I have time. Her focusing on everything else means she’s trying to make this work and not end her life. I’m in the clear… for now.

But what if that changes? What if she gets down again? What then?

Fuck.

A world without Natalie…. I lived in a world with her for years before she became my world. Even then, moments were brighter and lighter when she was there. I wasn’t just spouting poetry and bullshit about the sunshine. It’s what I felt the first time I saw her—a sunny ray hitting me square in the face and brightening my soul.