1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 38

'Watch out!' Mickey yelled, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him roughly aside.

But it was too late. A loud discharge exploded close by them and searing pain shot through his shoulder. His men jumped into action immediately, surrounding him with their weapons drawn. Mickey pushed him into an open car

'I want them alive!' Leon yelled before the door was shut in his face and the car sped off, ferrying him to safety.

~

As Leon strode into the main area of the warehouse, a sizeable crowd had already gathered. His men parted to make way for him, and he saw that their prisoners' hands were tied at the wrists behind their backs. They had been made to kneel on the concrete.

His men stood above them, their grips tight on their prisoners' collars. A few guards with semi-automatic weapons stood close by, ready to shoot if necessary. They were of South American descent, but Juan's troop wasn't the only South American gang around here. He had to make sure first.

He casually placed his arms behind his back as he gazed down at the trio. They stared up at him, and the youngest of them seemed to stare the hardest.

'Who are you?' he asked.

They remained silent.

'Juan's men?' he prodded. 'If you aren't, then you'd better speak up. My war is with him and I don't think your leaders want to get involved.'

He bent at the waist to get a closer look at the youngest boy. Such a lovely face he had, with wide, blue eyes and full pink lips. He didn't look a year older than eighteen, yet here he was, courting death needlessly. Leon placed his fingers on the boy's smooth cheek. When he didn't resist, he tilted the boy's head away, leaving his neck on full display. There on his white skin were the faint markings of someone's teeth.

He recognised the owner of those teeth. He smiled slightly as he straightened. Juan's man, indeed.

'Aren't you too young to be here, boy?' he asked, his voice taking on a kindly tone. 'How old are you?'

He raised his burning eyes to meet him, and in that instant, Leon thought anger marred his features.

'I'm not a boy,' he hissed. 'I'm sixteen.'

'Charming,' he said with a wry tug at his lip. 'Back then, I was still a boy until I had blood on my hands.'

Leon took a step back to settle down on the stage of the boxing ring. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands over each other to support his chin.

'Tell me, then,' he went on as he addressed him, 'the sixteen year old man, did Juan send you here?'

'No,' an older man answered for him. 'We came here ourselves to kill you!'

His face was twisted into a sneer as he spat.

His eyes went to the glistening glob of saliva on his floor.

'Kill me? I see that you have failed. Congratulations.'

'What should we do with them?' Val asked in Russian.

Leon shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want three random Mexicans affiliated with Juan to be kneeling about on his floor, especially one who was that man's newest toy. He sighed, then languidly slid off the stage, and fixed his hands on his waist.

'Alright, then. Who wants to go first?'

Three heads popped up at the same time, confusion etched into their features. He held a hand out, knowing that someone would place a weapon in it. Their eyes widened as they realised what he meant, and slowly and desperately, they started inching back on their knees.