Page 20

Life went on while I was stuck in one spot. Why was I even here breathing in air when it felt as if the world was better off without me?

I sucked in a shaky breath and held it as I stared up at the ceiling of my mother’s place. There was a water stain the size of my face right above me. My lungs burned with the need to exhale and I relished the feeling. It was better than the emotions that continued to rip me apart. Next to me was a creepy stack of dolls that sat on bags of clothes from who knew where. My chest screamed for me to exhale, to give into the suffering of living. I held my breath for another few seconds seeing just how long I could fight against my body's natural response when faced with death. Spots blotched my sight, erasing what was laid out before me.

Blake's face came to mind, his laugh, the way he naturally fit against me in bed. His scent as it soaked into my pillow. I gave in and coughed as air rushed out of me. I gasped trying to expel air as fast as I was taking it in. All that, and I was left with nothing.

I was more upset about Blake than I was about nearly dying. If I could go back and smash that Russian’s brains in again, I'd do it. I'd break every single one of them and watch them choke on their own teeth and blood.

"Move, you're in the way." Mom swatted at my feet, trying her damndest to get me to move.

I glanced at her, and she was a feeble old woman. At what point did she get so old? It would be a fucking miracle if I even made it to turning gray, let alone her age.

"Mom, how old are you?"

Her brown eyes sparked with life for a fleeting second. It had been like that when I came to her place five days ago. But the moment was always gone too fast. The shimmer could have also been the sight of cash I had in hand when I walked through her door.

"You're blocking my doll collection. Did you know my very first one was when I was eight? My parents saved up all year to get it for me." She reached over my head, her gaze only for the item she was focused on. In her hands was a black doll with curly hair. One of the eyes was missing and the dress had probably been stark white at one time or the other. It was closer to gray now. She fretted over it, cherishing and showing it more attention then she'd ever sent my way.

I was so hollow, I couldn't find it in me to care that she kissed the doll and whispered loving words to it. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the pile of crap behind me. Every muscle in my body was on fire. I had been sleeping at an odd angle and there was no telling what was poking me.

"Move, Quincy." Mom slapped my foot again.

"Why?"

She huffed in annoyance. She had more stuff in her arms that I hadn't noticed before. "I need to put beanie babies next to the doll collection and you're in my way." She was making it sound like she was some renowned collector, but I knew more than others most of the shit she dragged in and filled the space with was trash.

"I'm tired. Just put it around me." I turned over, grunting as something hard poked into my ribcage. I made no move to dislodge it. The pain could be added to the misery I was feeling.

"No, that won't do." She tugged on my shirt. "Get up now. You're in my way." Mom pulled on my clothes frantically, and I knew if I didn't move, it would turn into a hysterical moment.

"Mom, please, not right now." I turned over to look into her eyes, pleading with the side of her that was my mother on occasions and not this thing I was forced to endure. "I just want to rest for a little longer. Please."

"I know, why don't you go outside and hang out with some friends?"

My jaw ached with how hard I ground my molars. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then go to your place. You don't live here," she shot back.

"I pay the fucking bills! I might as well."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Quincy Jeremiah Adachi. I gave you life. I have no issues taking that away." Even as she fussed at me, her gaze kept going to the area she wanted to get to.

Even in anger, I wasn't really on her mind. "Life?" I sat up, stretching my arms out. "This is fucking living to you?" A manic laugh slipped free. "This is hell." There were stacks and piles of stuff that had no real meaning or value. She didn't even throw her trash out if she felt like the can was special.

"No one is making you stay here."

I shook my head. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I came here thinking I could get some love, or fuck, I don't know, understanding from the one person who's always supposed to be on my side."

"You're not a child, Quincy." She tsked, still tugging on my shirt. "I did my job. What more do you want from me? Do you have any idea how hard it was?"

"Yes!"

The tears were already falling and I could do nothing but stare at them. Does she even feel anything right now?

"Quincy, please get up."

Why bother? Why did I even come here? Maybe a part of me desperately wanted to be punished further. I said all kinds of shit to Blake, shit he didn't deserve, and I sought out the one person who could easily tear me to shreds without even trying.

I got up, knowing it would never be over. She rushed past me and instantly went to fixing everything up. I leaned against the table that was covered with dictionaries over the years. Some of the pages were visibly showing signs of molding. I stared at it for a while. Before, I would have rushed to switch it out with a copy. I'd trip over myself to be the son she wanted.

"Hey, Mom, did you even want me?" When she ignored me, I pushed off the table and gently touched her shoulder. "Did you hear me?"

"I thought you left." She yanked free and went back to what she was doing.

"Mom."

A heavy sigh was my only indication that she'd heard me at all. "Your father was a sweet talker. Always making me believe he'd leave his lifestyle if I had his baby." Mom sat back, reevaluating her organization, and started over again. "We both know he didn't quit. He just wanted to trap me, make sure I never went anywhere."

I nodded. "Okay."

She went back to ignoring me like always, and I watched her silently, making sure to stay out of her way. I reached into my pocket, searching for my phone and sighed when I came up empty. Tossing it should have been the first thing I did but I'd stupidly held onto it the first night, driving around the city waiting and silently hoping Blake called. When nothing came through, I knew he was gone. I had no one to blame but myself.

"How did you know you were in love?" I was pretty certain I wasn’t in love and wasn't sure anyone would ever have such a feeling toward me. But I found myself wanting her answer regardless.

Mom jumped a little at the sound of my voice, her head whipping toward me. She looked shocked to see me. "Love? You just know, not that it's real." Her fingers trembled a little and her teeth chattered.

The building's heat was controlled by the landlord and he still hadn't come to fix hers. I should go raise hell, but I knew the moment he caught sight of her place, it would be more shit for me to deal with.

Maybe I'm not rushing to get it fixed because this is her punishment.

Not that she ever noticed. As long as she could have her stuff, Mom was happy. Or at least her version of happy.

"Well, I don't know," I said. Over the years, her version of love was nothing like what the songs and movies portrayed.

Laughter that I associated with good times wrapped around me. For a second, my chest throbbed a little less until her words hit me dead in the center. "You don't have to worry about that. You're your father’s son."

Don't ask. Walk away.

"What do you mean by that?"

She huffed. "You're like him in that you'll ruin everything you come into contact with. He destroyed my future when I met him and you continued when he was gone."

The sound of the door opening cut through the noise of the city. I pulled out my knife and rested it on my lap. Black shiny hair came into view, and for a split second, I thought about Blake, but I knew it wasn't him. He didn't know about my moms place and he didn't want anything to do with me. Harlow twisted around, pulling his thick coat closer to his face. He huffed out a cloud of air as he finally spotted me.

"I checked Silver Dreams, Blu, Cat’s Meow, Havana Club, all types of shitty strip joints, and even a few back alleys." Harlow shoved his hair out of his face, his cheeks were rosy red as he made his way over to me. "This is the last fucking place I expected to find you." He climbed up and joined me on the highest part of the roof.

When I said nothing, his brows nearly kissed his hairline. "A cigarette? No weed?"

I couldn't look at a joint and not think about Blake. Any thought about him made it feel like my chest was a hollowed out cave.

"Fucking silent treatment now?" Harlow plopped down next to me. His suit was probably getting dirty but he showed little care. "You want to talk about it?"

I took a drag from the cigarette, not caring for the taste of tobacco. It never felt as smooth. The smoke was all wrong and there was no soft haze that blanketed me.

"Either start talking or I'm going to stab you," Harlow threatened.

I blew out a cloud of smoke that I waved away instantly. "I'm the one who taught you how to use a knife, think I can handle you."

"Yeah, want to bet? Benito swears he can handle it too and he never sees me coming. Had to stab him with the butter knife just to slip out this morning."

I shook my head, a small chuckle leaving me thinking about Benito clutching his wound and cursing Harlow out. "Why in the hell do you test that man?"

This was better than wallowing in the endless abyss that was my emotional state. I wasn't sure what to do. There was a thought if I allowed myself to cry again that it would relieve some of the pressure. But I knew that wasn’t true. I’d gone right back to bottling it all up. Probably wouldn’t be able to cry for years just like before.

"Good dick?" He nodded, answering his own question. "Plus, he loves it. Keeps him on his toes. If I was some basic husband he'd probably get bored by now."

I could truly say I didn't envy Benito in the slightest. I finished off the cigarette and went for another. I didn't need it, but the motion was oddly soothing.

Harlow fidgeted next to me, and I offered the pack to him. He quickly took it and patted himself down in search of a lighter. I passed the gas station one over to him. It was a cheap piece of plastic, nothing like Blake's Zippo. Harlow took in a few inhales as we sat there in the cold. My fingers were stiff but I made no move to get up.

"You have no idea how good this feels. Cutting back is hell," Harlow said, breaking the silence.

I glanced at him; he'd never talked so much. I normally filled the silence with words, but here he was, talking about nothing.

"We agreed to smoke less because of the baby. Her clothes were starting to smell like cigarettes. It fucking sucks ass."

I went back to staring at the multitude of buildings that blocked most of the view from the roof. "That's nice."

Harlow brought his knife down and I leaned back as it struck between my legs. I balanced the cigarette between my lips and held my blade against his throat.

"At least I know you're not suicidal." He backed off and sat down, putting his knife away in the process.

"Why are you here, Harlow?"

He gave me a look like I was an idiot, and I probably was one. "To find you, did you miss that whole explanation?"

"I told you not to bother with me."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you say a lot of shit I've ignored over the years. What's new?"

"I meant it."

Harlow sighed. "Probably, but what does that mean? I'm supposed to not come when you need help?"

"Didn't ask for any."

"Stop with this kicked puppy shit." Harlow punched me. "I got your back, I know I've been busy and life has changed, but shit, it's been me and you forever."

I turned to meet his gaze. "That's the past."

"You always make this hard."

"What?" A cold gust of wind slammed into us, and I let my eyes close for a second as it replaced the bitter bite of regret and resentment inside of me before I opened them again.

"This." Harlow jerked his hand between us. "You're shutting it all off and that doesn't work for you. You're not being you."

I shrugged, not willing to dignify it with a reply.

Harlow groaned. "I'm sorry."

The cigarette fell from between my parted lips. "What?"

"You fucking heard me, asshole. I said I was sorry."

I had to have fallen off the roof and this was an alternate reality. There was no way in hell Harlow was apologizing. Then again, he'd changed ever since he got with Benito. Changes I would have never imagined for my friend.

"The whole marriage thing wasn't my plan." He held up a hand as if to keep me from interrupting him. "But what happened after, that was on me. I put some distance between us."

"You had to, your dad was watching me."

He shook his head. "Like I've ever given a fuck. I called you when I needed something but I never did more than that."

"I can't believe you just admitted you're a shit friend sometimes."

He flipped me off, and I couldn't stop the tug at the corner of my lips.

"For what's it worth, I was just angry at something else and what I said was?—"

"Right.” He leaned closer, really peering into my eyes as if he was trying to look into my soul. “I talked to some of the guys who used to be under you. Quincy, is what they're saying true?"

I flinched at the thought of everything getting back to Harlow. "I'm handling it."

"So, it is true? You're Daiki's bitch?" His anger wasn't hard to miss.

I wasn't even shocked at what was being said. "More or less. You left and Kai couldn't cut it here. Thought your dad would let me run the division, but no such luck."

I'd probably be a shit leader anyway.

"That motherfucker. 彼は私に約束してくれた。" He gave me his word.

I didn't have to ask Harlow who he meant. A dry laugh emitted from me. "He told you he'd let me stay in the yakuza, didn't he?" It was no secret that the only reason I'd been allowed to climb the ranks in the first place was because of my relation to Harlow. Without him, I was back at the bottom.

"I'll kill him."

"And put your entire family on the line? The moment he's gone, you're dead."

Harlow waved it off like the thought of killing his father wasn't a big deal. "Benito will take care of it."

Must be nice . The trust Harlow had in Benito was astounding. I wanted that for myself. Not with Harlow but—Blake's face came to mind, and I pushed it away just as fast as it had appeared.

He shoved me. "And you're family. You've been more of a brother to me than the ones I got."

I felt like family but I never would be. I wouldn't have what Harlow had. Ever. "Man, what is Benito feeding you over there? You're soft as hell now."

"このナイフを喉に突き刺して、出血多量になるのを見ることはできる。私を試すな。" I can still shove this knife into your throat and watch you bleed out. Don't test me.

I put my hands up in surrender.

"Enough of this emotional shit. What the hell happened at the docks?"

My shoulders tensed thinking about it. I'd replayed it over a thousand times the past few days and still I couldn't piece it together. It didn't help that every time I recalled everything that transpired, I saw Blake, and the fear of him dying came back. I relayed everything that had happened from Daiki pressuring me to meet up with the Russians to the altercation. I left nothing out, even the description of how I caved his head in with my fists. All through it, Harlow listened, taking it all in.

"Okay, I got the gist but what happened with Blake? Why is he with Cesare?"

My stomach knotted just from hearing his name. Going from seeing him every single day, falling asleep in the same bed, to not seeing or hearing from him for the past five days was jarring. "Is he okay?"

Harlow stared at me strangely. "Benito said he's alive but he didn't get to talk to him yet." His lids lowered as he squinted at me. "Are you worried about him?"

I shrugged, not willing to give anything away. I wasn’t certain about my own feelings but missing him sounded about right. "We parted on bad terms."

Harlow opened his mouth. I wasn't ready for the onslaught of questions he no doubt had. He shut it just as quickly, plunging us back into silence. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes. They weren't the kind I normally smoked when I did. They were my mother's favorite. Once upon a time, I'd smoked them to feel closer, thinking I could understand a little about her.

That desire was dead.

"Let's go handle this then," Harlow said, standing up.

I lifted a brow at him.

"I know you hate it here, come on."

He wasn't wrong. Being here was a punishment in itself. I was crawling out of my skin to get away, but going back to my place was a no go. It was too fucking empty, and since living with Blake, I'd kept the trash to a minimum. Which only emphasized the emptiness of the place.

"Where are we going?"

"To deal with Daiki, what else?" Harlow bent over to meet my gaze. "Unless there is another someone you need to confront?"

I ignored the second half, not ready to touch that landmine of emotions. He made confronting Daiki sound matter-of-fact and not the insanity it truly was. "What?" I laughed. "We're going to kill him?"

Harlow shrugged. I knew there was no love lost between him and his half brothers. "As far as I'm concerned, we'd be doing the world a favor." His gaze was heavy. "It doesn't make sense why the Russians thought you were fucking them over. We're missing pieces, and I bet that shit for brains has them."

It wasn't the first time I'd thought the same. Nothing Isaak Antonov had said made sense.

"Did you start the fire?" Harlow asked as we made our way down.

"No, that was all Blake," I said proudly. "He's nuts."

"Of course he is. You do see who he's related to, right?"

Yeah, but Blake was his own man. He wasn't even raised around the mob. Blake was crazy on his own, a badass in his own right. My stomach twisted again, remembering how he'd taken down the other two Russians without batting an eye. He'd protected me, and I'd rewarded him by lashing out all because I was a pussy.

"Fuck, I really screwed up."

Harlow nodded, not knowing the context. "You usually do, but no one’s better at cleaning up shit than you."

Glancing at him, I nodded. I'd handle this, and the moment I got a chance, I'd figure out what to do from there.

I had to get Blake back.