Loving Jiro (7 page)

His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he frowned. “I stopped wanting you a long time ago, Kiara.” She knew this mood, one set to hurt her feelings with every word he uttered. He leaned in close to her lips, as if that tempted her. It didn't. She only wished the lips less than an inch from hers were Jiro's and not Odell's. “You know why I keep you around? To pay the bills and suck me off. That's it. In fact, why don't you get on your knees and do it right now. You do that without complaint, and I'll let you get that job. But you'll bring me every check—the
whole
check."

He waited for her decision. For a full minute she stood staring at him, stumped at how a person could be so completely selfish. She knew from experience when she had to give him her money, it meant bills would continue to go unpaid. He would blow every penny, leaving her nothing and then blame her for hassle from bill collectors.

His eyebrow went up expectantly. She dropped to her knees, and sniffling, she unbuttoned his pants. The Rocky and Bullwinkle boxers had been a gift from her. He found no problem in wearing them, except on certain nights when he went out in bikini briefs. She was not stupid. She knew what that meant.

Pulling down the material, she looked up at him, a plea in her eyes. His expression remained unyielding, his lips compressed. “Do it now."

She took him in her mouth, closed her eyes and battled nausea. He threw his head back, moaning. She dreamed of another place, another time. Even as he released in her mouth, forcing her to swallow, she knew tonight would be another attempt at escape. The last twenty dollars in her purse would go to alcohol. When he was content and unconscious, she would slip away.

Kiara eased out of the bed, wincing when an empty beer bottle clattered to the floor. Odell's snoring didn't pause. She dressed quickly and stuffed a bag with a few changes of clothing before creeping to the front door. Without regret, she opened the door and left.

After walking the highway for hours, she caught a ride with a woman heading south. Kiara figured maybe if she went as far south as possible, just maybe Odell wouldn't find her. For a man without a job, he had plenty of friends—friends who seemed to know how to track down anyone.

"This time will be different,” she insisted to no one in particular. At a diner in the middle of nowhere, in a small town she had never been to, she started a new life.

She glanced at the help wanted sign in the window and jerked open the door. A bell jingled, announcing her arrival. “Be right with you,” a woman in a too tight waitress uniform called as she carried a pot of coffee to two men in the corner. Kiara shook her head.
Just like in a TV show. Weird
.

Clutching her bag close to her side, Kiara waited with a hip pressed to the back of a booth. She examined the walls—boring pictures, cheap and unattractive. She considered the poor quality of the furnishings. The likelihood of the owner springing for her to paint murals was slim. Yet, an idea was forming in her mind of a sixties motif with records and hoop skirts, a jukebox and motorcycles, all painted on the dull white walls.

The waitress finally finished with her customer and sauntered over. “Haven't seen you around here before. Passing through?"

Kiara nodded. “Yes. Well, I was. I need a job."

"Ever waitress before?"

She shook her head. “No, but I learn fast. If you give me a chance, I promise I'll give it my all, and I'll work any shift you need, overtime too.” She hadn't meant to sound so desperate.

The woman studied her. Kiara dipped her head so that her hair fell forward on her face. Irritation registered in the woman's expression. “You running away?"

"I—"

"References?"

She sighed. “No, I have no references.” She turned to go. “Thanks for your time."

"Wait.” She pulled at Kiara's arm, and she flinched. She dreamed of the day that wouldn't happen. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she paused. “I had a girl who just quit. Hell, I would quit if I could. Okay, you're hired on a trial basis. But the moment you have a man coming around here causing trouble, you're gone. I've had enough drama in my own life to last a lifetime. I've been down that road of abuse, and I don't want to relive it through you. Got it?"

Kiara hid a frown. One would think if the woman had been abused by the man in her life, she would have more compassion for someone else in that situation. She guessed not. Everyone responded to life's issues differently.

"Yes,” she affirmed. “I got it."

Six months. Six glorious months, she was free, working at the diner and pocketing her money. No one stole from her. The most trouble she had had to deal with was prejudiced white men and women who came into the diner occasionally. Not the locals, but those passing through. She ignored their snide remarks and kept on going.

Francine, the head waitress that had hired her, patted her shoulder. “Don't let them get to you, Kiara. The women are just jealous you're so beautiful, and the men want to get with you."

Kiara laughed, her heart light, or as close to light as it could be. She had come to the conclusion over the last few months that she had grown to love Jiro and Ayumi. Her heart ached for Jiro nightly, but the course she had chosen was the best she could make. “Me beautiful?” She grinned. “Yeah, right."

Francine spun her around. “Look at you. You've put on weight. When you came in here, you were skin and bones. I think you've picked up a good twenty pounds or so. Got yourself a butt now."

One of the local men—sixty-five if she had to guess—whistled. “Yeah, nice butt too."

Francine rolled her eyes. “More men than that old fart have noticed.” She indicated the black man at the end of the counter. Kiara had caught Junior's eyes on her more than once. She knew he liked her, but she was not interested. He looked like a good guy, but so had Odell in the beginning.

"Sorry, I don't think so,” she told Francine.

"Come on, girl, you're young and fresh. You need a man.” She winked. “'Sides, I've known Junior since he was five years old when his father came through here and dropped him with his grandmother. Haven't seen the man since. Give Junior a chance."

Kiara dropped the conversation as her shift was over. Convincing Francine she didn't care if the woman had known him fifty years was impossible. She scooted around the counter and gathered her purse and a sweater. “Night everyone."

Francine grumbled, but said no more. She waved Kiara off.

The night was cool. Kiara slipped on her sweater and walked a little faster. Soon fall would turn to winter, her least favorite season. She had four blocks to go to get to her three room duplex. The place wasn't much, but it was hers. She always got a thrill heading home, no matter how exhausted she was.

"Kiara?” Someone called from behind her. She turned and saw Junior following shyly.

She sighed. “Hi, Junior."

He caught up. “Can I walk you the rest of the way home?"

Resisting the grumble rising in her throat, she nodded. Junior wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either. He had an ordinary face, plain with dark brown skin and little acne scars on both cheeks. About her height, he had a thin frame. Even after gaining the twenty or so pounds Francine said she had, Kiara was pretty sure, she was heavier than Junior.

"Uh, I was thinking that you might like to go to dinner with me sometime,” he offered. “We could go over to that new restaurant a mile down the road and see a movie too. Or if you don't like movies, we could go dancing at a club I know of."

She shivered when a breeze blew right through her clothing. Glancing around, she felt someone watched them. But that feeling came often, so she didn't give it much thought. The narrow lane at the side of the road didn't hide much, and past the railing was just brush and weeds. Another few yards would be a small dirt road that led to her home.

"I'm sorry, Junior. I'm just not interested in seeing anyone right now,” she explained. “I came out of a bad relationship before I got here, and I just need some serious recovery time. You can understand that, right?"

His expression fell. “Yes, I guess I can. Awhile back, I dated this girl with some serious issues. The trials she put me through would shock you."

She grinned. “Not."

They walked on together, chitchatting about this and that. Kiara thought Junior was a good guy. Maybe they could be friends. That wouldn't be so bad, as she could use someone to talk to, someone who understood what she had gone through. From what he began to tell her of his ex-girlfriend, she had been an abuser as well.

At the turn in to her street, Kiara paused. Someone had darted away from her door. Her heart pounded, and she was glad she wasn't alone, although she didn't think Junior could be of much help.

She grabbed his arm. “Junior, I think someone's down there.” The street was rather dark, the street lights being too few and far between. Her companion stopped. They stood watching her door, unmoving until her neighbor stepped into view, lighting a cigarette. She heard Junior let out the breath he was holding along with her. She laughed. “We're real brave, aren't we?"

He puffed out a scrawny chest, flared his nostrils and made a funny face. “Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Snorting in laughter, she covered her mouth. Soon they drew up to her door. Her neighbor waved and disappeared into his house in the next duplex. Her adjoined neighbor she knew had flown to California to visit her son. With the chill tonight, Kiara wished she had gone too.

"Well, this is me, Junior. Thanks for walking me home.” She squeezed his arm. “And listen, we can be friends if you like."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He grinned. “And a guy can hope for more later."

"Goodnight.” She realized there would be no friendship. If a man was so busy wondering when the friendship would become more, he wouldn't be a friend. She shut the door gently on him since he seemed disinclined to walk away.

Bolting the door with one hand, she hung up her keys on the hook she had drilled into the wall as soon as she moved in. Without hitting the light switch, she found the place where she had painted a country scene and gently stroked the fawn there on her way to the bedroom. Within twenty minutes, she was dressed for bed and had picked out a book to read until she fell asleep.

A sudden banging on the door sent her over the edge of the bed to the floor. Her heart slammed against her chest. She grabbed the baseball bat beside the closet and stood still listening to the hammering.

"Kiara,” came a muffled cry. She gasped. Junior? He sounded terrified. She hurried into the living room and flipped on the light. When she unbolted the door, it banged hard against the wall and Junior's body was thrown inside. Having fallen to the floor, Kiara looked up to find Odell in the doorway. Vomit rose in her throat.

"No, no, no,” she cried out.

Junior lay in a heap, unconscious at her feet. Both his eyes were swollen shut, and blood covered the front of his shirt. He was so still, she feared he was dead.

Odell stepped into the room and slammed the door. “Yes, yes, yes. Bitch! Did you think you could get away from me, Kiara?” He shook his finger in her face, taunting her. “It took me some time and money, but I finally found you. Actually, I had to work like a dog to gather enough to pay the private investigator."

So he didn't have friends who knew people like he had claimed all the other times he found her.

He paced across the room, looking over the space. “It was harder this time too because every time I turned around, the guy I hired would just change his mind and not help me. You're going to pay for that frustration.” He patted the front of his pants. “Over and over again, you'll pay. And then I'll beat your face in until you're dead. How do you like that, Kiara?"

She dropped her gaze to the floor and then to where the bat had flown when Odell burst in. She gauged whether she could reach it before he got to her. She had to try.

[Back to Table of Contents]

"J-Jiro?"

"Kiara,
anata
.” His voice sent shivers through her body. Not until she heard it, did she realize just how much she missed him.

Her hands shook as she tried to maintain a hold on the phone. She sniffed and swallowed before speaking again. “Jiro, I need your help. Please."

The line was silent.

"Are you there?” Tears filled her eyes thinking he didn't want anything to do with her after she had dropped him and his sister.

"I'm here.” He spoke softly. “What's wrong?"

How could she explain what she had done, what had happened? She glanced down at the bodies on the floor and backed away until she hit the wall between her bedroom and the bathroom. “Jiro, I think they're dead. Both of them.” Blood dripped in her eye from her forehead, and she brushed it away. The reality of her actions hit her hard, and she dropped the phone on the floor before retching uncontrollably.

She stumbled into the bathroom and slid down to the cold tiled floor. Resting her head on the side of the tub, she waited for her spinning head to clear. Sobs wracked her body until she shook from head to toe, curling against the confusion and pain.

"Ms. Jackson?"

She jumped at the unfamiliar voice, looking blindly around the bathroom for the bat that couldn't be there when she had left it covered in blood in the living room.

A man stepped into the open doorway, averting his eyes. “Ms. Jackson, I work for Jiro Fuschida. I'm here to clean things up. He'll be here in a couple hours. If you would stay in here or the bedroom until I'm finished, that would be best."

She stared. “W-What? Clean up?” Impossibly, she was thinking of a maid. This muscle bound man was nobody's maid. “I don't understand."

He hesitated. “Mr. Fuschida had me working here in this state for a while."

"Let me guess,” she interrupted. “For six months?"

He didn't confirm it. “Like I said, I will do the clean up. You'll be happy to know that one of the men is still alive."

She pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling like she would vomit again. Her stomach had to be empty by now. Jiro had had someone watching her. Why couldn't he come to the house earlier, before Odell had slammed his fist into the side of her head? And before she had cracked the bat across his. Suddenly, she realized what the man had said. Only one of the men remained alive.