Fifteen

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The hotel's bright windows illuminate the dark street, 21 stories and 5 stars. It has multiple spas, gyms, and activity rooms for its guests, yet space is limited. Entire floors are reserved for the gang.

Von has a penthouse suite, the entire top floor to himself. There are inaccessible floors below ground level, floors that are open, unfinished, and poorly lit. Ten floors in between require card access.

It's hidden in plain sight. The rooms are mostly reserved for bullets but a few high-ranking civilians will sometimes stay here as well. I've noticed a few men in suits and a politician or two. For a while, I start thinking the whole world is corrupt. The men are the only ones strong enough that bring me out of my dark thoughts.

"You get better every day," Kimori tells me. "You're so fast now the big guys can't keep up. Two at once couldn't even lay a finger on you."

We're on one of the many inaccessible hotel floors. This one is like a studio, complete with a large living area and a full kitchen. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the entire unit making the cityscape view its best feature.

Romero and Seven are lounging on the large orange couch across the way. The bold color choices of this suite make me think Diana has the final say on decorating. The men themselves could never come up with something so chic even though they fit into the space perfectly.

Seven has his legs thrown over Romero and the older doesn't miss the chance to squeeze the muscles revealed by his shorts. His strong hands have veins creeping up his forearms as he works with precision. Seven's sharp jaw clenches at one particular touch and I catch little creases forming between his eyebrows.

Kimori continues on beside me. His dandelion T-Shirt contrasts with his dark skin. It constrains his broad chest and prominent shoulder blades. I put my hand on his arm and he starts to fumble his words.

"I just think you did—you did really well. You always do really well. It's kind of amazing how you weren't born into it. Well, you kind of were," Kimori trails off.

"Thanks," I say. "I'm not sure why you said that last part though."

I'm rubbing Kimori's bicep when we're suddenly no longer alone. Von approaches us by the exit. Despite some bright pieces the rest of the suite is pretty monochromatic and mostly white. We stand together on the linoleum. I instinctively drop my hand and Kimori instinctively smiles. Barely taller than Von, he's standing right in front of the large glass door.

"Move," Von says and I'm only surprised he communicates it verbally.

Kimori scoots closer to me. He's close enough to feel my chest pressing against him when I breathe deeply. The only thing is I'm right beside the door so he's still partially in front of it. He should've gone to the opposite side.

Kimori separates from me as Von presses him against the doorframe. Being that close to Von can be intense, blue eyes and freckles. Kimori licks his lips slowly. He scans Von's sharp features then his eyes fall to the floor.

"Look at me. Are you scared or something?" Von asks. He touches his jaw the same way I've seen him do a few others, including myself.

By now Romero, Seven, and L have started to notice what's going on. We all watch from different positions in the room. It's as if we're all on standby.

Kimori looks up and then back down enough times to apologize for it. Not enough to stop smiling though. Whether it's a nervous habit or not it takes away from the seriousness of the situation.

Von scoffs as his anger slowly dissolves into confusion. He presses his forearm into the top of Kimori's chest. He has never needed to use words. His expression says it all even when he's starting to scramble. Kimori bites his lip and Von copies him like he doesn't know what else to do. He backs away from Kimori and shoves his way towards the door.

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