Unraveled

  She met his gaze. “No, Shihan, I don’t.”

  His eyes darkened. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Shihan.”

  She closed her laptop and stood. “That’s the first time you’ve acted like you deserve the title.”

  * * *

  THURSDAY night classes were always crazy. Still, it surprised her to hear, “Shihan needs you in practice room one.”

  Shiori glanced up at Deacon and moved toward him, standing in the open doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “I was filling in for Zach in the yellow belt class, and uh, well, now there are a couple of students who are cryin’.”

  “You made kids cry?”

  “The fuck if I know what I did wrong. But you can hear those two girls bawlin’—”

  “You made little girls cry?”

  Deacon looked away. “Just go help Knox.”

  She passed through the open training areas. The wails assaulted her ears before she reached the room.

  Knox had two little girls, age seven or so, up at the front of the class. With the way the building echoed, the girls’ cries were actually louder outside the room. She shot a quick glance to the other students, a dozen boys and girls who were watching Shihan with wide eyes.

  Shiori set her hand on Knox’s shoulder. For the briefest moment she thought he might act instinctively and put her in a wrist lock.

  But he cranked his head around and gave her a surprised look. “What are you doing here?”

  “Deacon said you needed help. What’s going on?”

  “Near as I can figure, that one”—Knox pointed to the dark-haired girl sobbing with her forehead on her knees—“attempted a wheel kick and her foot caught her”—he gestured to another dark-haired girl sobbing with her forehead on her knees—“in the face. Then girl number two pushed her down and tried to choke her out.”

  “Are either one hurt?”

  He shook his head. “Go back to your class. I’ve got this handled.”

  Right. “What set off the waterworks?”

  “Deacon put them in time-out for the rest of class and said he’d talk to their parents about banning them from watching MMA TV shows.”

  Seemed reasonable. MMA was great for showcasing high ability levels for different styles of martial arts, but kids didn’t grasp that they shouldn’t try those moves until they’d been trained properly. “What are their names?”

  “No clue.”

  “Mind if I try to talk to them?”

  “Have at it.”

  Shiori tapped girl number one on the foot. “Hey. You need to stop crying and get a grip.”

  Knox snorted. “Great help. And believe it or not, they are calmer than they were a few minutes ago.”

  “Don’t you just have the magic touch?” she said sarcastically.

  “No, but I do have two little sisters.”

  He did? Why hadn’t she known that?

  Knox touched girl number two on the arm. “Can you talk to me, sweetheart?”

  Girl number two raised her head. Her sobs had faded into hiccupping sniffles. “Addy is mean. She said she’s gonna get her orange belt before me so she doesn’t have to be in the same class as me because I suck.”

  Girl number one looked up. Holy shit. They were identical twins. She retorted, “Abby is just mad because I’m better at jujitsu than she is.”

  “Are not!” Abby yelled.

  “Am too!” Addy yelled back.

  “Are not!” Abby yelled louder.

  “Am too, and I don’t want anyone thinking that you’re me, because I am better!” Addy shouted.

  “Girls,” Shiori warned.

  A warning that didn’t stop the escalating screaming match.

  Knox rolled his eyes. Then he sat between the two warring girls. “Enough.”

  “She started it,” Abby said sullenly.

  Addy tried to kick her.

  Knox put his hand on Addy’s leg. “Ms. Hirano, there’s another class in room two. Since Addy thinks she’s ready to move belt levels, will you please escort her into that class?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yep. Abby, say goodbye to your sister.”

  “Come on, Addy,” Shiori said.

  Addy didn’t budge. Abby gasped. “You can’t do that! We have to be in the same class.”

  Shiori shrugged. “No, you don’t. My brother and I didn’t even go to the same martial-arts school. Plus, the crying and carrying on makes me wonder if you even like taking jujitsu classes.”

  Another gasp—from Addy this time. “But it’s our favorite thing!”

  “Then maybe you should act like it. Come on, Addy. Let’s get you settled in the other class.”

  “Please don’t put me in a different class,” Addy pleaded with Knox.

  “I didn’t mean what I said,” Abby added. “Addy is helping me learn better. Please let her stay.”

  “You’re both sure this is what you want?” Knox asked.

  They both nodded.

  “Fine. But your actions do have consequences. You will sit out the remainder of class, and if I see any grappling, hitting, or kicking I will have words with your parents.”

  “We’ll be good, Shihan. We promise,” Addy said. She mimed zipping her lips, and Abby did the same.

  Knox patted them each on the leg and stood. “Pay attention because I may test you after class.”

  “I’m impressed,” Shiori admitted to him grudgingly.

  “My sisters yelled and screamed at each other, but the second Mom tried to separate them, they were best buddies again. I thought I’d give it a shot.”

  “Smart.”

  “All right,” Knox said, standing in front of the class. “Get up. Take off your belts. At the count of ten, we’ll have a belt-tying contest.” He inclined his head to Shiori. “Ms. Hirano? Will you lead the countdown in Japanese?”

  “Ready? Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu, ju!”

  A flurry of belt tying ensued.

  “I’ve always wondered. Did you and Ronin ever take jujitsu classes together?” Knox asked.

  “No. He was always way more advanced than me. Our dad didn’t feel the same need to push me into it like he did Ronin. Our mother is the one who insisted I train—probably preparing me to spar with my grandfather.” She paused. “But once when I was about five I asked Ronin to practice with me.”

  “What happened?”

  “He kicked me so hard—on accident—that he broke two of my ribs. He felt horrible. So horrible that he agreed to play dolls with me every day until I was better.” Shiori shot him a sideways glance. “And no, you cannot tell Sensei Black you know that story.”

  Knox grinned. “No worries. I played dolls with my sisters, too, and I was a helluva lot older than eight.”

  “Done!” a towheaded boy in the front row yelled.

  “Good job, Dylan. Now you get to come up front and pick what we do next.” Knox leaned down and whispered in his ear.

  His ease with younger kids didn’t surprise her, since the man got along with everyone.

  Including you?

  Yes. They’d forged an unspoken truce yesterday after Knox had knocked Deacon down a peg, proving he could lead.

  Now if they could just get through the last day of the week without incident, she might believe—just might—they’d survive the next nine weeks.

  * * *

  IN the locker room Friday night, Fee asked Shiori, “You coming to Diesel with us?”

  “Who’s us?” Although she hadn’t seen Knox since she’d arrived to teach that afternoon, Zach had mentioned Knox was in the Crow’s Nest, getting an overview of the classes.

  “Black Arts and ABC’s finest. It’s Friday night and I’m on the prowl.”

  Shiori pulled the ponytail holder out and shook her hair free. “Had any luck finding prey?”

  “Last month I met a bull rider from Brazil. Sweet. Kind of
shy until I bought him a few shots. We ended up going back to his hotel and ay caramba. He was built, hung like a bull, and knew how to use his hips.” She sighed. “I loved that he talked dirty. Made me realize how much I missed hearing my language in those intimate moments.” Fee gave her a curious look. “What about you?”

  “Japanese men aren’t exactly known for dirty talk. So I prefer American guys.” Shiori smiled. “Not just the ones who can talk dirty, but the guys who know how to act down and dirty.”

  “Plenty of those at Diesel. So what’dya say?”

  “I’m in. Is Katie coming?”

  Fee’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have against Katie?”

  Besides the fact she’s a decade younger, a foot taller, and she’s a blond amazon with big tits? “I hate that she literally hangs on the Black Arts instructors when we go out.”

  “The guys might’ve invited her,” Fee warned. “She’s fun and generous in buying drinks. She hangs on the guys because she’s a born flirt. It comes to her as naturally as breathing. Best thing to do is ignore it.”

  “You’re jumping to her defense? Last I knew you wanted to bitch-slap her into next week—your words, Fee, not mine. So what changed?”

  She smeared on frosted pink lipstick. “She’s really trying to make Black and Blue Promotions into a larger entity. She’s smarter than anyone gives her credit for—especially my pigheaded brother and yours. Neither Ronin nor Blue gives her ideas any consideration. I feel for her because I suspect she’s been dealing with that attitude her whole life.”

  “What makes you say that?” Shiori asked.

  “I heard a phone call between her and her big-money big daddy. He was a total asshole to her. I saw her crying afterward. It just . . . gave me a different impression of her. She struggles like the rest of us with all the family shit.”

  Of course Fee played on the one thing that would earn Shiori’s sympathy. “Fine. I’ll give her another chance.”

  “That oughta keep her on the straight and narrow, because you scare the crap out of her.”

  Shiori flashed her teeth. “Smart girl.”

  Fee shouldered her purse. “Got a few bucks for bus fare?”

  “I hate riding the bus. I could call Tom and he’d be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “No car and driver tonight, moneybags. It’ll be good for you to rub elbows with the common folk.”

  Shiori insulted her in Japanese.

  Fee shot back a Portuguese phrase.

  Then they both laughed.

  “Come on. Booze and boys await us.”

  The bus ride was tolerable. Diesel was just starting to fill up, but Gil had scored a corner table. Blue sat next to Katie.

  Fee said, “What’s up, guys?” Then she frowned at Gil. “I thought you were closing down the dojo?”

  “Knox said he’d handle it.”

  “I talked to him, and he said he’d be here right afterward,” Katie added.

  Of course she’d know Knox’s schedule.

  Giving her a second chance, remember?

  A pitcher of beer and one of margaritas were in the center of the table.

  “Pull up a chair and have a drink,” Blue urged.

  Both Fee and Shiori opted for margaritas.

  After the toast and the usual “Thank god it’s the weekend” comments, Fee leaned over and whispered, “You’ve already got one admirer eyeing you.”

  “Where?”

  “At nine o’clock. The guy in the suit at the bar?”

  Shiori casually turned her head and looked at the guy. Cute. Lanky. Malleable. He smiled at her. She smiled back.

  Just as she started to get up, a pair of hands landed on her shoulders.

  Proprietary hands.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KNOX had been oddly elated to see that Shiori had shown up for a night out with the Black Arts crew. As he approached the table, her gorgeous fall of black hair had swished over her shoulder when she’d turned her head toward the bar.

  He’d followed her gaze to see what’d caught her attention and some jackass in a three-piece suit was making eyes at her.

  Give it up, buddy. She’s not interested.

  But then Shiori tilted her head and a crease appeared in her cheek, as if she was smiling at him. As if she was interested in him. Then her ass started to come out of the chair.

  Not happening.

  Knox pushed down on Shiori’s shoulders and put his mouth against her ear. “Going someplace?”

  “Yes. Why do you care?”

  Her silken tresses teased the side of his face. Her spicy scent filled his nose. She always smelled so damn good. “Because I’m surprised to see you here.”

  She angled her head slightly to look at him. “Why?”

  “You and Fee don’t usually hang out with us on Friday nights.”

  “We work with you guys all week and we need a break from all that testosterone, which is why we go elsewhere.”

  “Or you don’t come out with us because you’re afraid we’d cock block you.”

  “Right.” Shiori blinked at him. “You’re serious.”

  “Yep. If we saw the loser guys you planned on hooking up with at that dive bar you two troll in, we’d . . . encourage those jackoffs to look elsewhere.” His lips brushed her ear and he felt her shiver. “Like the fucker at the bar who was probably texting his wife while he tried to lure you in with a doofy smile. Be happy he’s gone.”

  Shiori leaned back to look at the empty barstool. “Nice going.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Next thing he knew she had two fingers squeezing the skin on the inside of his knee. “Don’t cock block me again, Knox. You’re not my big brother. You don’t get to decide who I do and don’t fuck.”

  Jesus. That tiny pinch stung. “You can do better than him. You would’ve broken him like a twig, She-Cat.”

  “Maybe that’s what I like.”

  He smiled. “What a coincidence. I like that, too.” He stood but left his hands on her.

  She pinched him harder.

  Why the fuck that made him hard made no sense. He moved away