“Need some aspirin to go with that hangover?” I asked, more worry filling me. My gut hadn’t relaxed in what felt like days. It wasn’t often I saw Dax this way. He partied. He played. But he always remained in control. He rarely slipped over the edge into true intoxication.
He took a sip of coffee and groaned again. “This is your fault.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Mine? How the hell do you figure? I wasn’t even here.”
“If whatever it is you’re doing with Jada’s goddamn family wasn’t in the way, I would have slammed that asshole out of her apartment last night.”
I stilled. Dax knew nothing about my business with Ken’Ichi and Tsuyoshi Mori. At least, that was what I’d thought. But I should have known better. Dax knew how to read people. Knew how to read a room. It was what made him great as the front man for our business and kept him in demand in every circle he traveled. After my little genius, he was probably the smartest person I knew.
“You know you can’t do that,” I said quietly. Not only because it would require me to defend Dax and blow everything I’d been working on, but because he’d never put his family at risk.
He glared at me.
“Tell me you don’t have us mixed up with theKyodaina,” he demanded.
I searched for an answer that wasn’t a lie.
“I’m not part of theKyodaina,” I answered.
He assessed me. Dax and I didn’t lie to each other. We were friends and business partners, and if either of us lied, it meant the end of both of those things. The shipbuilding business and racing team I had with Dax was the best thing in my life. It was the real me. It was what would be left behind when all of this was over.
I’d once thought the thrill of the gun range and the thrill of hunting down bad guys would be enough to replace the thrill of being on the water at reckless speeds. I’d thought it would help me make better choices. Be a better person. But it hadn’t turned out that way. Instead, I’d dragged the people I cared about further into danger with me.
“Do you remember the first time you let me drive your boat?” I asked.
He snorted. “Of course. You’d bragged about how fast you could get that old cigarette boat to go, and I bet you a thousand dollars you couldn’t do it.”
“You took a chance on me.” My voice was gruff, edged with emotion. “Not many people have ever done that. In fact, I can only name two.”
Truck and Violet’s faces swam before me. The only people to ever truly believe I could be something more than what I appeared.
“I wouldn’t screw that up to throw in my hat with theKyodaina,” I told him.
It wasn’t a lie. It was a truth covered in a lie. I was still risking our business. Our friendship. And for what? A goddamn crime syndicate that would probably be replaced with another one the moment we tore it down.
“Then why the hell did you just stand there last night?” he demanded.
For him. For Violet. For Jada.
I sat next to him and bumped his shoulder with mine. “The same reason you walked out. You can’t protect her if you’re dead.”
He scoffed. “She doesn’t need protection from them. She is them.”
It was and wasn’t true. It was why Dax would never allow himself to truly fall for her even though his soul called out to her in the same way mine did to Vi. I understood the agony of that decision.
“You’ve never tried to escape the ties that bind you to your family, Dax,” I said. “You haven’t wanted to because you love and admire yours. Jada and I…we both understand the truth. It’s too late for us to get out because, even if we never see them again, the scars they’ve placed on us have been etched into our very being.”
“Merde sacrée, who is this moody poet in my friend’s skin, and what have you done with the real Dawson? I need his cocky ass to run a race with me across the Atlantic,” he teased.
I grinned. “Get your ass up, take me to Yuriko’s studio so I don’t have to deal with Jada putting me in some frilly crap tuxedo, and then we can go take theAda Maefor a spin.”
Our boat. The one lady we could both love without limitations.
He took another sip of the espresso. “Dieu, if you want me to deal with Yuriko’s nonstop chatter, you’re going to have to let me finish this and buy me another before we even get there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
My phone buzzed. The secure one in my left pocket. I didn’t pull it out until Dax had finished the coffee and gotten up to shower. Juggling the phones in ways that kept them out of sight was the hardest part of having them. The cargo shorts I wore on our boats helped hide them in the pockets. When I was in a business suit, I could tuck them inside the jacket. But when I was in jeans and a T-shirt, like now, it was harder. I’d thrown on a sweatshirt with a front pocket this morning, but even then, it was a risk. A chance I had to take with so much coming together at the moment.
