Ink and Ashes (31 page)

“NICHOLAS!” I GASPED.
The pounding in my head throbbed so much I thought it would explode. The air felt cool, the smell familiar. I raised my heavy eyelids.

Mom and Dad rested on the couch by the window and rose when they saw me awake. Forrest sat in a chair next to my hospital bed, like a bad case of déjà vu.

“Nicholas is going to be all right,” Forrest said, sporting a cast in a sling and a couple of stitches across his forehead. He scrambled to my side.

“Forrest.” I reached for him. “You’re alive. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

He grabbed my hand and kissed it. His hands trembled around mine. “Ditto.” He leaned down and left a gentle kiss on my forehead.

I glanced over at Dad. His eyebrow was raised, but he didn’t say anything.

I shifted my focus back to Forrest. “When I saw you on the stairs . . .” Tears pricked behind my eyes. “I can’t imagine—I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I couldn’t live without you either.” He squeezed my hand again. “Good thing you’re so indestructible.”

I swallowed more tears before they could escape. “Is your arm okay?”

Forrest shrugged. “Well, it’s not going to be as cool as Nick’s scar, but I’m hoping the cast will draw some sympathy from a certain attractive girl because I might need someone to kiss it better.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Did I mention she’s smart and athletic too?”

“Who is she?” I said. “I’m going to punch her.”

He laughed.

“Can you take me to see Nicholas?”

Mom got off her chair and walked over. She pressed my shoulder so I would lie flat against the bed. “You might have suffered another concussion, so the doctor wants to monitor you a little bit longer. Not to mention the hypothermia and your other injuries.”

Forrest spoke in a quiet voice. “I think you should listen to your mom and take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” I said even though I wasn’t. Everything ached. From what I could see and feel from where I lay, my wrists and ankles still bore the marks of being bound. Bruises decorated my skin everywhere—even if I couldn’t see them, I could feel them. And there were stitches under my chin and on the back and side of my head.

Avery strolled through the door with a large stack of hospital bed pads in one arm and a bedpan in the other.

Mom went over to him and held out her hands to relieve him of the load. “Oh, that was so thoughtful of you, Avery,” she said, “but I don’t know if Claire needs them. I think the nurses have got it handled.”

Avery pulled his stash closer to his chest. “Claire? I didn’t get these for her. These are for me.” He walked to the loveseat and stacked everything into a nice pile next to Dad, oblivious to Dad’s look of death.

“Son,” Dad said, putting a hand on the top of the pile. “What do you think you’re doing with these?”

“I think I’m going to be playing video games a lot longer without needing to leave for a break.” Avery smiled.

“Avery,” Mom said, smoothing down her hair. “You know, sometimes, you just . . . I—I don’t know what to do with you.”

“I need to get out of here.” I shifted my legs to the edge of the mattress. “I need to get away from him,” I pointed to Avery, “and I need to see Nicholas.”

“Claire, get back in the bed and wait until we can get a wheelchair.” Dad stood and folded his arms. “I don’t want you to get hurt again. Nicholas is fine. The police were able to use Fed’s phone and find you before anything too unthinkable happened.”

Avery tugged at the hip of his skater shorts and postured himself as if he was about to deliver a monologue. “The patient was shot medially, just under the clavicle—where subclavian and brachial arteries and veins are located,” he said in a British accent. “It almost required surgery, but luckily we were able to explore the area without surgical intervention.” He gestured to a chart above the bed. “Fortunately, the patient didn’t suffer any fractures, so we’re hopeful that he’ll avoid long-term nerve damage.”

Mom and Forrest laughed at his impression. Dad shook his head. I didn’t even know how much of that was true.

I settled beneath the blanket, skin crawling, and restless. Staying still was almost impossible. Unlike after the car accident, I remembered almost everything and hoped scans showed I hadn’t reinjured myself with another concussion. Enough of me had been damaged already. Forrest held my hand, stroking his thumb against my skin.

“You’re here,” I said, unable to believe how fortunate we’d all been.

“I’m here,” he said.

The events of the past weeks had seemed almost dreamlike. A nightmare I had endured but survived—that all of us had survived. “Dad,” I asked. “What happened to the Japanese man?”

Dad left the couch and came to sit closer to my bedside. “They couldn’t find him,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

“He was on the ground,” I said. “Right by the door. I knocked him out.”

Mom pulled herself next to Dad, near the side of the bed. “Claire, the man who did this was the father of the last person—”

“I know,” I said with a quiet voice. “Jiro Arakaki.”

“Hmmm,” Mom said. Her black hair brushed her chin when she leaned closer. “Do you remember how I told you your father was asked to do something that weighed on his conscience? That something was to take Kimiko’s life. Your father told me he tried to convince the boss that Kimiko’s father deserved a pass.”

Mom rested her hand on mine. “But his boss was relentless. The yakuza demand unquestioning loyalty and obedience to their superiors, so your father carried out the assigned task, but he couldn’t bring himself to return and continue more of the same actions. He cut off his pinky to show absolution and sent it to his boss before escaping to America. It was the most honorable way to leave, in his mind. When you were born, he insisted we give you the middle name Kimiko, in honor of the person who had impacted his life so profoundly. I’m sure you would have made your father and Kimiko proud.” She closed her watery eyes.

I melted into the pillow behind me and imagined what it would be like to have my life back. Forrest gave my hand another squeeze, and Parker bounded into the room.

“Dude, you should have seen what I did to that Arakaki guy, Claire!” Parker said. “Couldn’t even recognize him afterward. They had to check the dental records to identify him.” He flexed in front of the mirror at the sink, and his thick neck disappeared.

“Whatever,” I said. “The last time I saw you, you were knocked out cold on your floor.”

Parker ignored me.

Fed skipped into the room with a look of ecstasy. “Do you guys realize how many different TV channels they have here? It’s like a million, and I don’t know why people complain about cafeteria food. It’s awesome.” He came to my side and gripped the bedrail. “I hope Nicholas never gets released.”

The room became crowded, and Mom and Dad stepped out.

I tugged at Fed’s wrinkled shirt. “Your GPS thing saved our lives. Thank you.”

“Oh man,” he said. “I’m so sorry. If I’d remembered you had it, I could have found you sooner.”

“I’m just glad you helped them find us at all.”

He shivered. “Man, it was so scary. At first I had no idea what was going on because this alarm kept beeping. It was tsuchigumo scary. And my mom. Whoa. You totally freaked her out because her phone was doing the same thing.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “How is Nicholas? I need to hear it, one more time, that he’s going to be fine.”

“He’ll live. I just came from his room. They’ve been giving him like all this pain medication, and he is way out of it. Reminds me of Fujiyama from this manga series, and whenever he gets drunk, he says all these crazy things.” Fed pulled at the bedrail, his eyes dancing with excitement. “It’s awesome. I may have to record him.”

“Leave your poor brother alone,” I said.

Fed sat down on a stool with wheels and inched next to the side of the bed. His clothes were a mess, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in a few days.

I shifted my head on the pillow so I could face him. “You’re my hero.”

“I know,” he said.

Mom and Dad returned with an empty wheelchair. Mom brought it to the side of the bed. “As soon as the nurse comes, she said you can go visit Nicholas.”

I tried to stand. “Thanks, but I can walk.”

“Would you like to visit Nicholas or not?” Dad asked. He folded his arms across his chest.

I huffed, but sat in the wheelchair after the nurse had hooked my IVs to a pole with wheels.

NICHOLAS WAS ASLEEP
, but his mom, Anne, stayed at his bedside. Her dark brown hair was pulled up from her face. Unlike her boys, she had a short, petite frame.

Anne was one of my heroines. She had been through so many different hardships in her life as a single mother, and I envied her quiet strength. The way she had raised Nicholas and Fed to be such wonderful people was proof of her supernatural abilities. I had never meant to be the cause of more grief.

As soon as I saw her, I fell apart. “I’m so sorry—”

“I can’t say you didn’t give me a scare,” she said. “But Nicholas . . . Claire, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.” She took my hand. “You’re all part of our family. Nicholas and Fed would do anything for you guys. This is not your fault. You know that, right?”

I nodded, not sure whether I was in agreement with what she had just said. How could I feel this wasn’t my fault? But words caught in my throat. Nicholas and all the guys had been there for me so many times. I wondered if my friendship and love could ever be an even trade for what they had endured.

Mom wheeled me to Nicholas’s side, and I rested my chin next to his face, staring at the steadiness of his breathing. He was covered in so many bandages.

I wanted Nicholas to sleep so he could recover, and yet I wanted him to wake up so I could hear his voice and know he truly was going to be all right. I needed proof beyond the rhythmic heartbeat on the monitor and the rising and falling of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. “He’s going to be okay, right?” I asked.

He’d been bleeding so much, I’d worried he’d die. To hear he didn’t even need surgery because the bullet had passed through cleanly was such a relief.

Anne smiled. “He’s well on his way to recovery,” she said.

Dad stepped behind me and grabbed the handles of my chair. “Twenty minutes is long enough for today,” he said. “I think it’s time to go back to your own room and get some rest.”

I grunted. “Fine.”

I tugged at my gown and pulled the corners underneath me as he wheeled me out into the hall. “So how long do I have to be here?”

Dad pushed me into my room and secured the brake before he helped me out of the chair. “The doctor wants you to stay one or two more nights as a precautionary measure,” he said. “Most likely you’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”

All the rest of the guys gathered in my room.

Dad situated himself near the side of my bed and cleared his throat. “I’ve spoken to your parents,” he said to the guys, “but I need all of you to know what you may see in the media will be a different story than what has taken place. As much as possible, we must tell them this was a random event.”

He looked directly at me and my brothers. “For our family’s safety, it’s important no one connects you to your father’s history, or we will always be in danger.” He then turned to Forrest and Fed. “I know we have asked a lot of you guys, but I’m sure you understand how important it is that this information be kept from
ever
seeing the light of day.”

They all nodded. I felt for them. They would be living the same lie I was every day. At times it had seemed like an impossible burden. I had a feeling Dad’s request had as much to do with not blowing his cover, too, which could put us all in even more danger.

Dad removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before he set them back on his face. “As far as I know, what you will be hearing is that this was a case of mistaken identity. Nicholas and Forrest were both hurt because they tried to prevent the abduction.” He raised a hand and motioned in the air. “We’ll try to make sure that never happens again, understand?”

Everyone nodded.

“Sure,” Parker said, and he patted Dad on the back.

Forrest nodded. “We’ll make sure your secret’s safe,” he said.

“Whatever,” Avery said, tossing back his hair.

Dad’s face darkened. “It looks like Mr. Tama might be innocent,” he said. “He says he was a stupid kid when he left those comments on the Internet. From what I can tell, he seemed to have reformed his life completely when a headhunter contacted him about a teaching position at your school.”

He rested his foot on the bottom of the stool. “The only reason he changed his name is because he wanted a new start. Marcus Tama is his new name. He’d gotten the Utah temporary license, but was waiting for the permanent one to arrive. The police are looking into what made Mrs. Davenport leave in the first place though. Mr. Arakaki had help from one of your classmates. Calvin, is it? Please do not take this issue up with him at school. Let the law handle it. He has been very cooperative so far, and I suspect he was conned like the rest of us were.”

He gestured to the boys. “I’d like to talk to Claire alone if you don’t mind.” They ambled out of the room.

Dad rolled the chair next to my bed. “Claire.” He hung his head. “I promised to protect you.” His voice began to tremble. “I let my defenses down.” He seemed to mumble more to himself than to me.

“We all let our defenses down,” I said. “Once Mr. Tama was arrested, we thought we were safe. We played our roles exactly the way Arakaki-san wanted us to.”

“I can’t help but feel this is my fault,” he said. “I knew who Arakaki-san was way before you ever found that letter. But his profile never suggested he would do anything like this.”

I wanted to throw my arms around him, but could barely move. “How can this possibly be your fault? You can’t be there by my side for the rest of my life. Dad, you do more for me than you will ever know. At some point you have to let me go, not knowing all the things that could happen to me.”

“I don’t know if dads ever let go of their daughters completely.”

“This is
my
fault,” I said. “I’m the one who led him to us.”

“I think there were a lot of factors that led him to us.”

“Are you worried Jiro Arakaki is still out there?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Now that I know who he is, I can find him. He won’t come near us again.”

“He said he did this out of honor and because my father had shamed him and made him look weak.”

Dad nodded his head. “Shame is about the worst thing a Japanese person can experience. Back in the samurai era, warriors would rather take their own lives when they lost a battle because it was shameful to be captured or killed by the enemy.”

“Like the kamikaze pilots.”

“Like the kamikaze pilots. Japan resorted to suicide tactics to evade the humiliation of defeat. The Japanese have lived with this culture of shame for thousands of years. The things your father did caused Arakaki-san a lot of shame, and to have that be known publicly made things worse. He probably felt the only way he could restore his family’s honor was to commit some of the same offenses and show he wasn’t weak.”

I explained how I had pulled Arakaki out of the warehouse. “He said he would repay his debt.”

Dad crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his thigh. “Because you saved his life, he is in your debt. If he ever had the opportunity to save your life in the future, he would do so because of this unspoken code of honor.”

“Even though he wanted to kill me?”

“Even if he hated your guts, he would still save you. I don’t know for sure, of course, but that’s the way the culture tends to operate because it would be the honorable thing to do.”

I gathered my thoughts together. “Dad, I wanted to kill him. I almost shot him. What does that say about me that I almost murdered a person?”

“But you
didn’t
. That says a lot about you,” he said. “I can’t say I would have been as generous. And I think the thing that speaks the most highly about you is not only did you not shoot him, but you risked your life to save his.”

“That could also be construed as reckless,” I said. “Or plain stupid.”

Dad placed his hand on my shoulder. “It was a little reckless. And stupid. But it was also brave.” He closed his eyes. “Please don’t try to be brave again. You’re going to kill me. I wish I could keep you in a bubble.” He stood and walked over to the loveseat. From the side he lifted a gift-wrapped box. “I have something for you.”

What present could he possibly have gotten me? He set it on my lap, and I unwrapped the plain silver paper. Inside was a leather-bound journal.

“Seemed like you could use a new one.” Dad leaned over the rail and pointed to the front cover. “I had your name engraved on it.”

“Thank you.” Tears pricked at my eyes. “How did you know?”

He smiled. “I’m in the business of knowing things.”

Someone knocked on the door. I looked over and saw Mumps.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Please.”

“Fine,” I said.

“I’m going to stay if you don’t mind,” Dad said to Mumps. “And even if you do, I’m not leaving.”

Mumps walked in. “That’s fine.” Dad pushed the rolling stool over, and Mumps sat down. His shoulders slouched and his head hung low.

“I owe you an apology,” he said.

“You think?” He nearly got me and several people I love killed.

He inhaled a deep breath. “When Chase made that bet that started your whole feud, it was because he had liked you for a really long time. I thought the bet would motivate him to do something about it. But, then you found out, and you punched him, and you know how that all turned out.”

“I do,” I said not even trying to hide my irritation that he was here, wasting my time. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Chase was upset, but not as much as I was. I posted some things about you online anonymously. I tried to ruin your reputation the same way you ruined Chase, but—”

“Hold up.
I
ruined Chase?”

“After you sent Nicholas and your brother to threaten him, they told some of the teammates what had happened and to keep an ear out and let them know if Chase was saying anything bad about you. Rumors started, and suddenly a lot of people, girls especially, thought he was a scumbag.”

The corners of Dad’s mouth turned into a proud grin.

“Number one, I’ve never wanted Nicholas and Parker to fight my battles. If you’d taken the time to get to know me before you did all of this, you would know that.” I flicked my eyes to Dad so he would get the message too. “And number two, Chase ruined his reputation by himself. If he had help in that department, it wasn’t from Nicholas or Parker, or me. It was from you.”

Mumps lowered his head. “I know. I didn’t realize that then.”

“So then what happened?” I asked, but it sounded more like a command.

“I couldn’t get any of the girls on your soccer team to turn on you, so I switched your test and told Mrs. Davenport you cheated.”

Hearing about my teammates made me feel warm inside, but I wanted to hurt Mumps.

“And then out of nowhere, this guy emails my anonymous account,” Mumps said, “and he says he’ll give me a thousand dollars to steal pictures from your locker. And then he says he’ll give me another thousand to put this box in your backpack.”

“So you asked me to the Halloween dance,” I said, “because you thought it would help you get closer to me.”

He nodded and rested his hands on the bedrail. “Claire, it was such easy money. So when he said he’d give me five thousand dollars to steal your soccer jersey and leave a couple of things in your room, I didn’t hesitate.”

“It didn’t occur to you to question
why
he wanted you to do these things?” I asked.

“Yeah, but they didn’t seem like a big deal. I didn’t think anything I’d done could hurt you.” Mumps put his hands on the sides of his head. “Chase started asking me questions about where all this money was coming from. All I told him was I was being paid to play pranks on you, and I thought he’d be happy, but he wasn’t. He came to that party at your house to try to stop me.”

“That’s why he was there,” I said more to myself than Mumps.

“And then I talked to you, and you weren’t at all like I expected. I thought you’d be mean and cold. But you’re funny, and I liked talking to you. The guy had already given me half the money upfront, so I had to finish the job even though I didn’t want to.”

I glared at him. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? The fact that you did it, but you didn’t want to?”

He shook his head. “No, but I really did feel horrible after that. And even though he asked me to do one more thing for him, I didn’t,” he said. “I’m not the one who taped those pictures under Mr. Tama’s desk.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve told the police everything,” he said. “Claire, I’m so sorry. I never would have done any of that if I knew what was going to happen.”

“What about the flowers?” I asked.

“Those were on your doorstep when I got there. All I did was pick them up and hand them to you. I don’t even know what kind of flowers they were.”

“White chrysanthemums,” Dad said. “They’re used at funerals.”

Mumps tugged at the front of his shirt with both hands. “I didn’t know. I promise.”

I looked away. He touched my arm, and I flinched. “Can you at least look at me?” he asked.

I turned my head enough to see him from the corner of my eye.