Now the rage roiling inside him like dark ominous clouds threatened to spill over, fed by what Mariko had gone through. The men had known how Osamu had treated her, but they’d done nothing in order to protect their reputations. He moved again, closer to her, wanting to hold her, offer her comfort. She moved away from him and he froze, everything inside him going still.

“I need to be alone,” she said. “This is a lot to take in.”

Her body language screamed not to be touched. To be left alone. What could he say to that? She was asking for space. He knew all about that. He also knew she was separating herself from him. She was rejecting him as surely as he’d expected her to. He nodded and watched her leave his bedroom. She walked away from him without once looking back. Not once. He didn’t try to stop her. What was there to say? He’d told her the truth. She knew she was a Tanaka and that her family had been brutally murdered and her brother stomped on until his body was deformed. She knew he had been late. He’d gotten lost.

No way was he ever lost now. He kept a map in his head at all times and he rode the shadows tirelessly every new place he visited until he was familiar with every block. Every rural area. That didn’t make up for being late; it would never make up for being late due to him not studying hard enough, but it would ensure it wouldn’t happen again. Unless… He sighed and lay back down on the bed, his head throbbing again in protest of movement. Unless he was late because he was caught up in something else – someone else – like Mariko.

He had to help her. No matter how she felt about him, he had to help find her brother. They needed a place to start. The investigators were already on it, and as soon as Vittorio was out of the woods, he’d ask his brothers and Emme to help. He called Stefano to check on his brother’s condition. Stefano would be sitting right there, guarding Vittorio and making certain he didn’t slip away.

“Stay home tonight, Ricco, and rest,” Stefano said when he offered to take a shift watching over his brother.

“I was late,” he confessed. “I was busy with Mariko and I didn’t relieve Vittorio.”

“You were three minutes late, Ricco. You used the shadows to get to him and that made up the time. We’ve all been three minutes late.”

“I’m never late. He was counting on me.”

“He told me he noted the time because Nicoletta had twice come to the window and retreated. He was certain she was vacillating between staying and leaving.”

If Vittorio was talking, he was doing a lot better than the last time Ricco had seen him as they loaded him into an ambulance.

“It doesn’t make sense that they were outside Nicoletta’s home. If they’re our enemies, why target her?” Ricco had asked himself that question dozens of times.

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Stefano asked. “They weren’t members of the Demons, nor did they have New York accents. I’ve reached out to our cousins there, and although the gang is actively looking for Nicoletta and the answer to who killed her step-uncles, there was no flurry of activity as if Valdez knew where she was.”

No one but Benito Valdez, head of the Demons out of New York, would be looking for Nicoletta. So why were the assailants outside of her home?

“I think at this point we all have to be very careful and vigilant,” Stefano added. “Until we know who our enemy is, we can’t take chances.”

He hesitated for just a moment and Ricco knew what was coming.

“Are you certain Mariko isn’t involved?”

“I hear truth the same as you,” he assured. “The connection between us is very strong and when our shadows connect, it’s unbelievable. There’s no way she could hide anything like that from me.” He was silent for a brief time. “She’s a good fighter, Stefano. Fast. Efficient. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t have to give herself away. She had no way of knowing I was on to her, but she followed me there and then jumped right in. I don’t know what would have happened without her.”

“You would have killed them all, Ricco, because you wouldn’t have had a choice,” Stefano assured. “This woman. Are you certain of her?”

“I’m certain she’s the one for me. I don’t know that she’ll stay with me.”

“Because of your reputation?”

He sighed. Stefano didn’t pull his punches. “I wish it were that. I was late that day, Stefano. I hadn’t studied hard enough and I got turned around trying to get to the Tanakas’ home. I had to tell her. She had to relive the nightmare of her family dying, knowing I didn’t get there in time.”

Stefano erupted into a long litany of swear words. Ricco remained silent while he assured him in his usual foul way that he wasn’t to blame. He’d been fourteen, and the council was going to have to make amends to the Ferraro family and Ricco especially before this was over. He’d already made inquiries about all the men and their families holding council positions. The New York cousins were investigating, as they were spread thin, but Stefano never wanted Ricco to say it was his fault again.

“Murdering little bastards, their families made them into tragic heroes, pretending they died in a car crash. What a load of shit. Their parents were fucking cowards not to tell the truth and to put it on you to stay quiet. Threatening us?”

Stefano was on a roll and clearly angry. Ricco’s head pounded more. “I need to rest for a while if you don’t need me at the hospital,” he interrupted the colorful tirade. Retribution would take place now that Stefano knew what had happened to his younger brother. Ricco didn’t envy the present Tokyo council or the international one.

Stefano instantly cut off the rest of his evaluation of the three families involved and told him to get some sleep. Ricco ended the call and closed his eyes. It was already morning and light was pouring through the long bank of windows, revealing the garden in the courtyard. He had loved the gardens in Japan for their beauty and peace. Right now the light only added to the throbbing pain in his head.

“Drapes.” He spoke the word and the thick, dark drapes that covered the window began to descend from where they were rolled up near the ceiling above the glass. He had blood on his clothes and needed a shower, but he couldn’t find the energy to get up.

He just lay there on his bed, drifting off, trying not to think about Mariko and the fact that he lost her before he ever had her. At least he’d managed to save her life and he knew she was in the world. Not with him, but alive and a damn good rider. She just wasn’t ever going to be his, but that was beside the point. She lived. She deserved to be happy, and he could give her that. He could find her brother for her and make certain they were both safe.

He drifted but he didn’t fall asleep. The events of his past were far too close. He had tried to close those doors, but when he lay in his bed, they persistently creaked open. He had thought about the council members so many times over the last years. They probably had been good men at one time, but grief and shame wore them down.