Page 38
Story: Shifting Gears
I immediately continued my attack, throwing a mean body shot, followed up with a left hook and finally a right cross. Each blow landed on their targets. Hearing him grunt as the last one soared across his jaw made my adrenaline pound in all the right ways.
I caught him with a solid left to the ribs, and he staggered half a step.
“Come on, boy,” I growled under my breath, circling him. “Ain’t so untouchable, huh?”
He didn’t answer. But I could feel his energy switch.
He was angry, but he’d not gone on the attack yet. He could have easily attempted to counter after half of the last blows I had landed, but he’d chosen not to.
There was something about this whole match that felt off. I wanted to know what.
Why was he not fighting back? What was he planning?
A man who worked for the yakuza had his life on the line each match; if he lost, there was a chance he wouldn’t walk away to fight another day. So, why risk it?
I prepared for my next move, but just as I took a few steps?—
Bang!
A loud sound of a door slamming open resounded through the space, causing the entire crowd to quiet. All heads turned to the direction of the front entrance’s stairwell as heavy footsteps pounded down them.
Koroshi’s head snapped toward the entrance, stopping my fist mid-punch.
The bouncer, who usually keeps the front door in check, ran into the room, holding his shoulder, which was bleeding.
“Cops!” he shouted into the room.
In seconds, the space erupted into chaos. People poured out from the bleachers as shouting came from the entrance. I watched as officers began to pour into the opening.
I looked back across the ring, and Koroshi was gone. As if he had disappeared into fucking thin air.
That was when the first gunshots rang out.
I ran to the edge of the ring, jumped over the gate, and hit the deck.
I covered my head with my hands as gunfire rained down.
Screams and people rushing to get to cover or run out the back filled the air.
I opened my eyes and looked around, searching for Sydney.
I saw Kaito run up the back steps and disappear out the door. Two of his bouncers turned back from escorting him to face the crowd to open fire at the cops.
He must have used his bodyguards to stop the crowd from using the back entrance long enough for his escape. Fucking coward.
That was when I saw Sydney. She was sprinting after him, slipping right past his bodyguards.
“Syd, watch out!” I shouted as bullets hit the wall dangerously close to her, causing her to flinch and duck down as she continued up the stairs.
I needed to follow her and get the fuck out of here.
I waited for a brief pause in the bullets, then sprang to my feet, taking off toward the back door.
I slammed my fist into the face of one of the men guarding the exit, knocking him out of my way.
I booked it up the steps. Throwing the door open, I dashed to the street.
I was just in time to see my car peeling out of the parking garage, hot on the tail of a blacked-out town car. She was driving like her life depended on it, and I knew there was no stopping her.
Well, fuck, there goes my wheels. Time for plan B.
I took off down the alleyway across the street.
“Hey, you! Yamero ! Yamero !”
I didn’t know much Japanese, but it didn’t take a genius to know when a cop was yelling at me to stop. I glanced behind me to see at least three cops running toward me.
Yeah, that isn’t happening.
I picked up the pace, my muscles responding with a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through my veins as footsteps followed me.
Passing by two dead ends, I found an alley that led to another street. This would be so much easier if I were in LA, where I knew the layout of the area by heart. Here, I was being forced to make split-second decisions and just hoped they worked out.
I was picking the next direction to run in when I felt a hand grip the back of my hoodie. I twisted and gripped the wrist, bending and yanking the person over my shoulder in the same move I had pulled in the ring. This time, it worked, and the cop flew into a pile of boxes, landing on his back.
I heard more footsteps. Two other cops rounded the corner.
“Add an assault charge to the list,” I said as I took off again.
They yanked their batons out of their belts and charged, but they were too far behind to actually do anything.
I needed to get to a bus stop without them seeing so I could get the hell out of here. But saying that and actually finding a bus stop in a part of town I wasn’t familiar with were two different things.
The next hour, it began to rain, and I spent it dodging and weaving down narrow passageways before I finally got on a bus that went deeper into the city. I had to hit one more connecting bus and a quick bullet train before I got to one of my usual routes.
I got off the bus, and I thought I was going to get caught one final time when a police car drove past me less than five minutes from the warehouse, but it cruised on by.
News of the shit show must not have reached all the way down here yet, so looking for someone that matched my description wasn’t on their minds yet.
I slipped into the warehouse from a back window we always left ajar. Since Sydney had stolen my keys, this was the only way I could get inside without breaking the door down.
I went upstairs and stripped out of my soaked clothes. That was when it hit me; I’d left my fucking phone in my car, too, so I couldn’t text her even if I wanted to.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I grabbed a towel and made my way to the bathroom. Nothing else I could do but get cleaned up. I smelled like sweat and gunpowder.
I had no way of knowing if she was okay until one of three things happened. One, she got arrested. Two, she ended up on the news like her sister had. Three, she showed up here with my car.
As the cool water poured around my body, I couldn’t help but hope for the last option.
Table of Contents
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