Page 21

Kai

F ive long hours later, we finally arrived at Hong Kong International airport. If we had taken my private jet, we would have made it in three. Sometimes, I enjoyed a good commercial flight—feeling what a normal person experiences when they travel humbled me greatly.

I had no idea what had happened to Jenny at the house. Did we kill her husband? Everything happened so quickly that it was a blur. All I could recall was his helpless face and lifeless body lying there in a pool of his own blood.

Trevon, Clare, and I stood in the exceptionally long queue at the taxi rank. My patience wore thin when one of the children in front of us fell on me during their tug-of-war. Clare, ever loyal, would have gladly done some serious damage if I had asked her to.

Did I hate children?

I tried my best to be nice to Jenny’s kids. I did. But they simply didn’t warm my heart the way dogs did.

“Couldn’t you just order a car from your phone?” I finally asked Trevon, the question burning me inside.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Trevon challenged.

“Do you want me to, Sir?” Clare volunteered, still remarkably polite. She would remain that way as long as I remained pissed at her.

“Well, I would, but you know I don’t have my phone on me.” I said to Trevon.

“Would you? Do you even know how to do it?” He teased, his lips pursed as he tried to hide his amusement.

I shot him a glare. “Of course.”

I believed I could if I had to, but truthfully, I had never done it myself.

“I think it’s best we keep our steps untraceable.”

I nodded, choosing to agree to disagree. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him right now. If the police were looking for me, it wouldn’t take them long. They knew I had flown to Hong Kong on a commercial flight. CCTV would reveal how I left the airport and trace me from there.

When we finally got into a taxi, Trevon told the driver to take us to a hotel I had never stayed in before, one I had deliberately avoided.

Thirty minutes later, we arrived in Tsim Sha Tsui.

While we checked in, Clare offered to conduct a search.

Trevon, ever cautious, used a pseudonym to check us into the hotel.

Bobbie Brown.

“Bobbie? Really?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Shut the fuck up,” he shot back.

I held down the burning questions swirling in my mind as Trevon paid in cash. The nice young lady at the check-in desk couldn’t seem to stop eyeing us. I wondered what was going through her head. Did she think we were a couple? Or had she figured out that Trevon didn’t exactly look like a Bobbie?

Fifteen minutes later, we reached our room.

Yes. Room. Singular.

“Spit it all out now,” Trevon demanded, arms crossed over his chest. “I know you’re dying inside.”

I flopped onto the large double bed, leaning back slightly as I kicked off my shoes. “One room? Really? I didn’t realize you missed our roommate days so much.”

“I only have one fake ID with me.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Bobbie Brown? Seriously? You could have at least gotten a twin room.”

“I didn’t have a choice. The fake passport was ready-made, and they just stuck my photo on it.” He unfastened his tie.

“Yes, haven’t you heard? I’m in love with you,” he added with a wink, lightening the tension from today’s disaster.

“I thought you didn’t touch anything illegal. How did you manage to get a fake ID?”

“Oh boy, you don’t know everything about me.”

“Apparently not.” I folded my arms across my chest. He had changed, and I wasn’t pleased with myself for not noticing.

“This isn’t the right time to dive into my life story.”

As much as I agreed with him, I wanted to catch up with my best friend, the one I had clearly lost touch with over the past few years. “Well, if we’re sharing a room tonight, we’ve got all night.”

“Fine, we do have some time. I help smuggle people out of trouble now and then. You happy?”

“Fuck, are you trafficking people?” My stomach twisted with images of innocent women tied up and sold to horrible places.

“No. Fuck no. I help refugees get to safety, provide a place to stay—things like that.”

Relief washed over me, and I scolded myself for jumping to conclusions.

“Wow, that’s surprisingly noble of you.” I wanted to know more but pushed that curiosity aside. “Why did you pick this hotel? Isn’t this place run by a triad?”

I might not know everything about Hong Kong, but as a businessman, I knew which places to avoid. The Hong Kong Triads topped that list. They were brutal, reckless, and the kind of people I didn’t want to cross.

“That is why I used a fake name,” Trevon replied, avoiding my actual question.

I sighed. “Tell me exactly why you picked this place.”

“Fine, don’t panic.” He tiled his head, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, “June and Wendy are here.”

“What?” Suddenly, everything made sense. Trevon wouldn’t have brought me here unless it involved June. Or Wendy.

“Yes, you heard me. They’re here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in contact with them?” Had we really drifted apart so much? He no longer wanted to share with me everything he knew.

“Only Wendy.”

“Still. It’s better than nothing. I haven’t heard from June since...”

How long had it been? Two days? My memory was a mess.

“Can you call her? I want to talk to June.”

“No, she’s not in a place to talk right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“She usually replies quickly, but not today. Something’s up. I can feel it.”

“Tell me what you already know.”

“They tried all day to get a fake visa but couldn’t. So, they went to see June’s ex.”

I stood up, tension prickling at the back of my neck. “What? How the hell is her ex supposed to help?”

“She didn’t say. There were only three messages since they left for Hong Kong.”

“Which are…?”

“Fuck, you are controlling.”

“Spit it out.” I wolfed down half a mini bottle of Tsingtao beer.

“Look,” he handed me his phone, and I took it. “Don’t scroll any further than today,” he warned.

First message : Hun, Trent told me everything. I’m on my way to find Kai in Shanghai.

Second message : Tried many places. No one would help us. Think we’re going to try June’s ex.

Third message : Found Kai. How’s everything going over there?

Fourth message : Meet me here. Below this message is the pin of our current location.

“Four messages,” I blurted out.

“What?”

“You said three.”

“Okay, four. I miscounted. I’m sorry, my lord.”

I wanted to know when Wendy and June would join us—if they were going to get in touch anytime soon. But there was no point grilling Trevon for information that he clearly didn’t have. I had seen his phone.

We took the time to call Trent and updated him on our situation.

He then briefly told me what happened over there, including how Dave was attacked at the airport.

Trent already had some people searching for Dave, but I decided to have Clare set up another search team as well.

I couldn’t bear the idea of losing my favorite bodyguard.

However, it was strange—why would someone target Dave and my innocent June?

Approximately two hours later, Trevon received a text from Wendy. She and June were both at a party in the grand ballroom, and she would find an opportunity to sneak out and meet us.

I couldn’t wait any longer. We had been sitting ducks, anxiously waiting to hear from them. Every time Trevon’s phone made a noise, my heart leaped, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Wendy.

I couldn’t help but wonder if June had tried to contact me. Without my phone, there was no way to know. Trevon had tried calling it, but it went straight to voice mail.

“I’m going to find her,” I declared, ignoring Trevon’s advice to get some rest. My body and mind simply wouldn’t allow it.

I jumped up and began searching for the shoes I had kicked off earlier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t even know where they are,” Trevon argued.

“We could split into two teams. We’d find them faster that way,” I suggested.

“Right. And how am I supposed to contact you if I find them first? Huh?”

“What makes you think you’ll find them first?”

“Well, the chances are fifty-fifty.”

He had a point. My fondness for June made me think I would be the one to find her. Maybe it was desperation. I wanted so badly to see her again.

Things had spiraled out of control over the past few days. My cousin was in serious trouble, her husband was dead—possibly murdered by her, or even by me. Depends on which angle you looked at the situation from. Jail was a looming possibility.

I couldn’t let anything happen to June too.

“How about we go together?” Trevon suggested. “Clare can search on her own and call us if she finds them first.”

We agreed to his plan. Clare would check the hotel’s five bars and restaurants, while Trevon and I headed to the ballroom.

When we reached the first floor, we discovered there was only one party happening that night, located in the grand ballroom. There was no sign outside of the door. Typically, the hotel displayed signs for birthdays, weddings, or other celebrations, but tonight, nothing.

The only indication of a party were the two guards posted outside, scanning every visitor who entered and exited.

Trevon and I decided to pull an old trick that had worked for us many times back in college: the drunken monkeys.

We wrinkled our suits, messed up our hair, linked arms and stumbled into things, walking crookedly to the entrance.

I half-laughed and half-shouted while Trevon giggled, slurring words that made no sense.

The taller guard with military haircut barked something in Cantonese. The younger guard, whose hair was perfectly gelled, spoke in English. “This is a private party.”

“I’m a guess, damn it,” Trevon slurred.