My only saving grace last night was that he hadn’t been there.
Seeing Kirishima, knowing that Tetsu had done nothing but lie to me for months hurt enough without Taishiro’s salt-in-the-wound presence.
After what felt like an eternity of my dumbass putting the pieces together, rage lit my veins. How fucking dare any of them? Kiri had tried to be the peace keeper as I fished a can of mace from purse and held it towards them in what I’d hoped was a threatening manner. I wanted them both gone and had told them as much.
Tetsu’s hollow apologies rang in my ears as I ushered them both down my steps and told them to fuck right off.
I wasn’t having it.
I wouldn’t let them take up any more of my time and energy than they’d already done.
Was my life some kind of joke to them?
Kiri had made one last ditch attempt and I’d sprayed a warning shot of mace. I was not opposed to temporarily blinding anyone.
They’d cleared off and I’d locked myself in, unpacking the clusterfuck of a night.
Fatgum had let me go. No, he’d fucking thrown me away and then sent one of his hench-idiots to keep tabs on me.
Why? To make sure I didn’t run to the police and report the goings on in his house? And fucking Tetsu… just faking everything from the second he’d walked into that lecture and pretended not to know a fucking thing about me,
I couldn’t sleep.
I’d wanted to opt out of class today and hunker down but I’ll be damned if I let anyone screw my life up a second time and drag myself from one lecture to the next like the walking dead.
It comes as no surprise that my ‘friend’ skipped school. Why wouldn’t he, now that his cover had been blown?
He had no more reason to pretend to be anything other than another Yakuza lackey.
I absorb nothing, my last class passing in a blur before I gratefully slide my laptop back into my bag and leave. Should have stayed in bed, this was such a waste of whatever small recovery I’d undergone since being mailed home, unconscious.
Crossing campus, he catches my eye and I stop dead.
I can’t breathe around my heart as it crawls into my throat, beating anxiously. I think I’m going to be sick, frozen to the spot as he walks toward me.
What was I expecting?
Had I expected him to grow horns in the interim?
Taishiro walks like he owns the ground beneath his feet, his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his tattooed forearms.
Fuck, he’s beautiful. He’s so fucking beautiful and hypnotic, I can’t take my eyes off him as he closes the distance between us.
This is a hallucination, right? There’s no way this son of a bitch is standing here, looking at me like the last time we saw each other didn’t end with a lie.
My tongue refuses to form words. My mind is blank, everything I’d thought of yelling at him is just gone… I should yell at him.
His fingers touch the side of my neck and I almost collapse in relief. I didn’t think I’d have this again, hadn’t even allowed myself to dream it; I didn’t dare if I wanted to hold onto my sanity. And now he’s here, his touch warm and real and I want to throw myself at him. I want to soak up the feel of his body
“Hello, dumpling, I hear you’ve been a very bad girl.”
I’ve been a what?
I blink stupidly before his lips crash against mine, my face caught between his palms as he devours my mouth without care that we’re in public, without a single thought to how much painful time had passed between us.
The taste of him is an assault on my senses and I reach for him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, barely stifling a moan of longing.
“Did you forget?” He murmurs between kisses. “Did you forget what happens to anyone who touches what belongs to me?”
It’s like being doused in cold water and I tear myself away from him, breathing raggedly for a second before he’s pulling me back.
My palm stings and I look up at him, stunned. My body had reacted before I could stop it, my hand cracking across his face in a slap that leaves both of us shocked.
“That’s what happens when someone touches me without my consent,” I tell him, trying to reign in my emotions, my voice shaking with unshed tears.
He looks as stunned by my violent impulse as I am before he’s grabbing my wrist and pulling me close.
“Dumpling, let me exp-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Fat,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear whatever lies and excuses you’ve spent the last three months thinking up. Just go back to where you slithered from.”
