Page 47 of Unraveled


  “I’d try the next place on your list, then, because she doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “Fuck.” He pushed to his feet and waited until Liberty stood. “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem.” She eyed him with speculation.

  “What? I swear I didn’t hurt her.” His voice dropped. “I could never hurt her.”

  “I believe you. I was just wondering about your comment regarding not being Ronin Black’s second-in-command any longer. Does that mean you’re looking for work?”

  That’d come out of left field. “Maybe. Why?”

  Liberty unhooked a small purse that Knox hadn’t even noticed—he suspected she was carrying concealed too—and handed him a business card.

  It read: GSC. SECURITY SPECIALISTS.

  His eyes met hers in a silent question.

  “We’re diverse in our services. With your military background and your martial-arts abilities, we’d definitely be interested in talking to you. Not necessarily for security work in the field, but we have a very active training program for our existing security specialists.”

  “Thank you. After I get this mess straightened out, I’ll look you up.”

  “Cool. Good luck.”

  Knox returned to his truck. His irritation surfaced again. He’d checked his phone as soon as he’d had service and he didn’t have a single missed call or any angry texts. His calls to Shiori’s cell had gone right to voice mail.

  That’s when he remembered he hadn’t listened to Ronin’s message from yesterday morning. He hit playback. Ronin’s deadly quiet tone sent a shiver up his spine.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’ve done or where the hell you are, but I came in to my office this morning and found a letter of resignation from my sister. Along with a note that indicated she’d returned to Japan.”

  Knox hit pause.

  She’d really left. She’d left him.

  Fury, fear, frustration filled him, choked him, grabbed him by the balls. He clutched his phone so tightly he popped the case off. Then he forced himself to set it down so he didn’t crush it.

  Breathe. Goddammit, breathe.

  Once the roaring in his head quit and the white spots cleared from his eyes, he resumed listening to the call.

  “What the fuck? You’re MIA, Shiori is gone, and that’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions. If I find out that you hurt her in any way, so help me god I will . . . No, Jesus, Amery! Let go. Give me back my goddamn phone.” Knox stared at the screen, and a moment of silence passed before Amery’s voice came on the recording. She spoke rapidly and quietly. “Knox. After you get this message, come see me at work—don’t go to Black Arts. You did me a solid once, and I owe you.”

  The call ended.

  Fuck.

  At least he knew which direction he was going.

  * * *

  SO maybe he was a little wild-eyed when he stormed into Hardwick Designs half an hour later.

  Molly was in his face first. “What the fuck did you do to her to make her go away?”

  “Back off.”

  “I’m so mad at you right now, if I had my gloves on I’d pound on you.”

  Knox exhaled. “I’d let you do it. Maybe then I’d feel something besides being absolutely fucking numb.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “You think I’m not dying inside right now?”

  Amery stepped between them. “Molly, get back to work.” Then she looked at Knox. “My office.”

  She scooted behind her desk and pointed to the chair opposite it.

  But Knox ignored her and placed his palms on her desk. “Ronin wasn’t bullshitting me through voice mail? She’s gone to Japan?”

  “Yes. And sit down.”

  He dragged the chair closer. “Talk.”

  “You first. What happened?”

  “After Ronin made her Shihan? I needed time alone to think things through. I came back into town today, ready to deal with the demotion, ready to do whatever it took to keep her in my life. And I discover she’s moved out of her leased penthouse? None of this was even on my radar, Amery.”

  “It wasn’t on ours either.” She tapped her fingers on the desk. “I suspected the reason you two always fought is because you were fighting your attraction for each other. I’m guessing you’re good for each other. I’m also guessing it’s never been casual.”

  He shook his head.

  “Ronin is being pulled in ten different directions. I told him not to implement changes all at one time, so I’m just glad he’s not doing it all himself and he’s passed some of the duties on to you.”

  “You mean that he demoted me?”

  Now Amery looked confused. “He swapped titles, but your responsibilities as dojo GM didn’t change. Ronin said you didn’t give him an answer about taking over more of the Black and Blue Promotions duties while you’re studying for your next belt-level test.”

  “Whoa.” He made the time-out sign. “What are you talking about?”

  Amery slammed her hands on the desk. “I fucking knew it! I told Ronin not to lay all of this on you at once! I warned him after he dropped the news about the Shihan thing first that you’d be in shock and would zone out and not hear a goddamn word he said about anything else.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It happens to everyone. Hell, it happened to him, and he’s conveniently forgotten that.”

  “So getting shitfaced immediately after that because I believed my career with the dojo was over . . . was premature?”

  “That’s what happened?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I know Shiori came over. I don’t know what the fuck I said.”

  “Knox. That sucks.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  She shook her head. “No one has. We’ve all tried to call her, and she hasn’t responded. I did reach out to Tammy, their mother, and she said Shiori was in Tokyo.”

  “I stopped by her place. She moved out, sounds like the night she came to see me.” Knox laced his hands on top of his head and closed his eyes. “So yeah, I’m thinking it was something I did or said. How the fuck do I fix this, Amery?”

  “What are you willing to do to fix it?”

  “Anything. Everything.” Images of Shiori flashed behind his lids. “I want her for the long haul.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Knox opened his eyes and frowned at her. “I’m lost.”

  “Yes, you are. You don’t know what you said that might’ve chased her away. Words can hurt, but words can heal too.”

  “You sure?”

  Amery shrugged. “Relatively. Unless you told her something like she’s a spoiled rich bitch you were only fucking because you were bored and you felt sorry for her since she’s ugly, fat, uncoordinated, not to mention she’s a failure in the sack, and you’d rather slit your own throat than spend another second with her.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “Those kinds of words can’t be taken back. But I doubt you said those to her, even under the influence, because you love her. And she loves you.”

  He let that statement lie. Amery didn’t need to know Shiori hadn’t told him that she loved him yet.

  “The last big fight that Ronin and I had before we were married, I stormed out because he was acting like a selfish dick. Ronin’s the man who swore he’d never chase after me, but he did. A few hours later he was at my door, apologizing, telling me right and wrong could be sorted out as long as we did it together. That’s stuck with me. Sometimes it’s not the words that carry the most weight but the action behind those words.”

  The image of Shiori dropping to her knees and kissing his feet in the club jumped into the forefront of his mind. She’d tracked him down and had shown humility in her apology. He needed to do the same.

  But he’d up the stakes—because everything that mattered hung in the balance.

  “I see the wheels turning,” Amery
said, snagging his attention back to the present.

  “They are. I just need to figure a few things out before I go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To Tokyo.”

  Amery grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She plopped her purse on her desk and rummaged around until she found what she needed. Then she handed it over to him.

  Knox looked at the keycard. “What’s this?”

  “A key to Shiori’s apartment in Tokyo. She asked me to check on her place while I was there. Lucky for you, with all that’s happened since we got back, I haven’t had a chance to return it.”

  “Very lucky for me.” Symbols written in black Sharpie ran vertically down the back of the plastic card. “What’s this stuff on the back?”

  “The code to the elevator is in kanji. I had to write it down exactly so I didn’t screw it up.”

  “Handy.”

  “Very. Do you have her address and apartment number?”

  “No. If you’d give me that as well as her mother’s phone number, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Good plan, letting Tammy know.” Amery’s eyes searched his. “Or are you worried she’ll blow the surprise?”

  Knox took a moment to breathe slowly and deeply. “This isn’t a romantic surprise, Amery. This is me fighting for my chance to have a life with her. This is me proving to her she’ll never find another man who gives her what she needs like I do.”

  Amery turned teary-eyed. “Good luck. I’ll take care of things with Ronin.”

  “Thanks.”

  He walked out of Amery’s office with a million things on his mind. So he wasn’t paying attention until a solid wall stepped in front of him. He looked into Deacon’s icy eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I called him,” Molly said. “You looked like you needed a friend.”

  Knox wasn’t sure if the tension vibrating off Deacon was directed at Molly or at him.

  Deacon moved the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. “What do you need?”

  Just like that. No questions asked. “A ticket to Tokyo and a ‘sorry I’m a fuckhead’ gift.”

  “You got enough cash for both of those? If not, I could float you a loan.”

  Again his friend’s generosity touched him. He glanced over Deacon’s shoulder to see Molly watching them. He lowered his voice. “I think I can swing it. But thanks. It means a lot—”

  “Don’t mention it.” Deacon held up his hand. “Seriously. Don’t.”

  “Fine. Follow me to my place so I can get cleaned up and packed. Then on the way to Cherry Creek I’ll fill you in on what went down.”

  “I’m never gonna get away from this touchy-feely friendship stuff with you, am I?”

  “Probably not.”

  After a beat or two, he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll listen until my ears bleed. But if you start crying, I’m punching you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  MORNING sickness sucked ass.

  Shiori had spent a good amount of time on the plane ride to Tokyo with a barf bag in her hand.

  After her mom had met her at the airport, she’d whisked Shiori off to her childhood home, tucked her in bed, and let her sleep for twelve blissfully dark, quiet, vomit-free hours.

  She’d lost track of time in the mad dash to get here. How long had it been since she’d left Denver? A day and a half? Two days? It’d all blended together.

  A shower and a change of clothes made her feel human. But the first whiff of tea had sent her scurrying back to the toilet to rid her stomach of the glass of water she’d managed to drink.

  She brushed her teeth—for the third time—and detoured to the living room, stretching out on the long leather couch that’d been in their house since her childhood. It was one of the few things that’d belonged to her father, which was probably why her mother had kept it.

  Her mother appeared carrying a glass. “Ginger ale might help. I’ll set it over here.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You’ve gone above and beyond.”

  “Does it make me pathetic that I’m happy you need me for something?”

  She fought another round of tears. “No. It makes me a crappy daughter that I’ve stayed so far out of touch you believed I didn’t need you.”

  “It’s been a strange situation the last year. Something caused you to reevaluate everything you’d worked so hard to achieve.”

  “Spending your birthday alone for the third year in a row will do it.”

  “That’s what chased you away?”

  “Partially. And that my personal life had become as cut-and-dried as my work relationships.” It’d occurred to her that negotiating for time with a submissive at the sex club had become as routine as nailing down the terms for her business contracts.

  Knox had changed that. He’d changed everything. He’d shown her that he could handle all sides of her—his respect and devotion meant more to her than anything in the world. So his drunken ramblings had caught her off guard. And rather than dealing with it . . . she’d left.

  Real mature, Mistress.

  Shiori’s mom lovingly rubbed her forearm. “I knew you were struggling. After I stepped up at Okada officially—”

  “You went from being my mom to being my boss,” Shiori finished. “It scared me. You’re the one person in our family I had a great relationship with, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

  “So you backed off completely. Believe it or not, I understand.” She sighed. “We’re not so good at talking out personal issues like we are business issues, are we?”

  “No. Finessing personal relationships is considered emotional manipulation. After dealing with Ojisan’s manipulation on both levels . . . I worried you’d become just like him.”

  “I can’t deny that in some respects I am my father’s daughter. Which is why I’m glad you took a break.” Her mother leaned closer to hold Shiori’s face in her hands. “This is what I wanted for you.”

  “Being pregnant and petrified about it at age thirty-five?”

  She smiled. “No. I wanted you to experience life outside of the crushing job responsibilities you’d taken on at Okada. We both know if I would’ve told you to take some time off, you would’ve dug your heels in and worked even harder.”

  “Have I always been that difficult and contrary?”

  “Yes. But you come by that honestly.” Her mother dropped her hands but stayed in Shiori’s personal space so she couldn’t back away.

  “If you wanted me to see what my life would be without Okada, then why did you send me to Mexico and Canada as Okada’s spokesperson?”

  She shrugged. “Those were family owned companies we wanted to acquire. Having Nureki Okada’s granddaughter start the negotiations sent a message that we embraced the family-business philosophy.”