He pointed at a guy standing at the bar, currently eating a peanut slowly.

"Sure."

"That's Sal, he owns the place."

"Is the food here good?"

"I don't know, it won't kill you-but 'good' might be a stretch. Get the steak, it's the only thing that the cooks here know how to make."

Minami decided to take his advice rather than risk testing the odds of that being the case. The place was ramshackle and rowdy, but she had to admit that it had a certain charm. More than that, though, it absolutely fit Wes. He seemed more at home here than he ever did in that little studio apartment.

She didn't realize that a smile had found its way onto her face until Wes asked her what she was thinking about.

"Nothing, just... this place fits you real well, you know?"

"I guess. It used to be, before, I could take this sort of place on. You know, I used to play a little."

"Really. You, Wes Park, you played... what? Played with poor Asian girls' hearts?"

"Guitar. Had a nice one, set up great. Played fantastically. Used to be, I'd play here, some nights."

"Were you any good?"

Wes took a deep drink. "No. But I tried."

"What happened?"

Wes took another, deeper drink. "Life happened. Not everyone can just keep things going the way they want, and that's what happened."

Eighteen.

Wes Minami was quiet a while. Wes let her stay that way. It was easier than explaining what had happened, and it wasn't as if he was lying. That was exactly what had happened, but as with everything there really was more to it than just that. If all that had happened was a few late house payments or something, he wouldn't be fighting now. He'd still be up there. Sleep out of the Fiero or something.

He'd never have sold that G.o.d d.a.m.n guitar if he had another choice, but sometimes life hits you and you don't have another choice available to you, and that's just how it goes.

Well, either way. Wes wasn't about to start complaining about his whole life story. He emptied the bottle into the gla.s.s, which was still cold. Minami took a drink from her own and made a face that told Wes immediately how much drinking she did.

"Little much for you, huh?"

"No, I'm fine," she lied. He could hear the lie right there in her voice, but he wasn't about to call her out on it. They both wanted to leave things out, but if all she wanted to play pretend about was her ability to handle alcohol, then who was he to judge?

n.o.body, that's who.

He smiled at her and took another drink before making an exaggerated face mocking her own. The waitress came by after a second to take their order. Minami followed his advice-which was good, because as far as he was able to tell, the cooks here had never been able to cook worth a G.o.d d.a.m.n unless it was a steak.

Then they were pa.s.sable at best, but people didn't come here for the food. The waitress left with her pad, and Wes stood up, pressed the chair back.

"If you'll excuse me-" he started, and never finished. He walked in the direction of the lavatory, but fished his phone out of his pocket instead and leaned up against the wall to call Bradley.

The line connected right before Wes gave up and started to call again.

"Wes? Jesus, n.o.body's heard from you since after that G.o.dd.a.m.n mess out in the boonies, people were afraid you were dead, man."

"Not yet, anyway," Wes said, keeping his voice extra smooth. He couldn't afford to let the very probably broken nose sound through the phone, or Todd wouldn't give him a fight in a million f.u.c.king years.

"I'm looking for a fight, you know where I can find one?"

"Wes, I think you need to slow down."

"I did slow down. I took a good, solid three-day weekend, and now I'm looking for the next payout."

"Wes, I'm being serious. As your friend here, you need to stop this crazy s.h.i.t."

"I need the money, and you have a big fight coming up, don't you?"

"I have plenty of big fights coming up, and most of them, I already have booked."

"Well, maybe one of your guys cancels."

"They don't."

"Supposing it happened, though-"

"Wes, I know you're not trying to threaten my guys, right? Because you know that wouldn't exactly endear me to you. Right?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, man. No threats, I'm just looking out for myself. If something opens up, you call me. I need the money, you know I can win it."

"Look, maybe I can get you something. Come on in, and I'll take a look at you, and if you look like you can fight-"

"I'm busy just now, Todd, or I would. I can come in tomorrow if I have to, if that would make you feel any better."

"Fine. Tomorrow afternoon. Say six."

"Good by me."

"Good. And Wes-I'm serious now. Okay? Don't you come in here with a broken G.o.d d.a.m.n nose and expect me to okay you to fight."

"You worry too much, Todd. You think I'm crazy? If I had a broken nose, I would have to take a while, right? Not just three d.a.m.n days."

"It's good to hear you talking sense." Bradley paused a second. "Which means you're probably putting me on, but we'll see tomorrow."

"Yes, we will. Have a good night."

Wes slipped the phone back into his pocket and headed back to the table. Minami smiled up at him as he pulled into his feet, a few seconds before the waitress stepped out from behind the part.i.tion with their food in hand. She set it down on the table in front of them.

"Anything else?"

They both agreed that, no, they didn't need anything else. Wes ate slow. When he took too much in, or bit down too aggressively, it shot pain straight through him, like he was biting down on a nerve or something, and it was enough to drive him up a G.o.d d.a.m.ned wall, but he wasn't about to let it keep him hungry.

The thoughts about the place, about how little it had changed in the years since he'd been in here, only contrasted with how much he had changed, how much he'd had to change in order to survive with the girls in his life. He couldn't live with them, but G.o.d d.a.m.n it all that didn't mean he wasn't responsible for them, and with their mother being... well, who she was, he was about all they had in the world.

So it wasn't like there was any choice about selling the guitar, or about the fights, or even about lying to Bradley. Wes took another bite, realizing after a minute that he hadn't touched his food for a while.

Minami seemed trapped in her own thoughts. Whatever she was thinking about, thought, he could already see in her eyes that it was some heavy s.h.i.t. The sort of thing Wes was the worst with.

Finally he took the last bite of his food, pushed the plate back, and finished the drink. Minami watched him cautiously, not having said a word since he got back from the call.

"Come on," he said, reaching a hand out across the table.

Wes could feel the beer having gone to his head, leaving his cheeks a little hot and his head a little light. he was out with a pretty girl, what the h.e.l.l else was he supposed to be doing? He took her to the dance floor.

Minami's eyes were wide as saucers as he pulled her onto the floor, pulled her body in tight. She felt good against him, as good as she ever had, and that feeling was one that he wasn't ready to pa.s.s up again. The song wasn't necessarily appropriate, but then Wes wasn't much of a dancer either.

So they swayed together on the floor. Wes looked up, saw someone eyeing him. A face that he recognized from a lifetime ago. He decided to ignore it. He wasn't that guy any more. He wasn't even Wes Park, bare-knuckle boxer, not right now. Right now he was just a guy, out with a girl. The thought was strangely liberating.

He didn't need to be something else, didn't need to think about anything else. Not even the girls, not right now. Eventually, he'd have to think about them. He'd have to go in, see Bradley, and somehow convince him that his obviously-broken nose wasn't broken at all. But those things were for the future.

He pressed his lips into Minami's. Right now, he was just out for drinks and dancing with a girl, and that was all he needed to be.

Nineteen.

Minami The weight of the phone in her purse was more than Minami wanted to deal with. She'd been overly conscious of it ever since she got the text from her father, when Wes went to use the facilities.

She had more sense than to think that there was any chance of it ever ending, but somehow she had held out some glimmer hope that the meeting with Higa had dissuaded her father from continuing to pursue a Yakuza marriage for her. She was dangerously close, in fact, to considering it a relative victory.

The text, telling her to keep her schedule open tomorrow, was enough to let her know that she was being hopelessly optimistic. That was a sign by itself that he'd found another candidate for her, someone else that she was going to have to blow off as best she could.

The cab pulled up and she slipped inside. She should have told Wes. But then again, it would have meant explaining more than she was even remotely ready to discuss. He would have to understand where she'd come from, what sort of man Father was.

He'd have to face the fact that she was who she was, and the kind of risks that he was taking by spending the sort of time with her that he'd been spending. She wasn't remotely ready to accept that, not when she had finally started to get him reeled in.

So she hadn't told him, and she wasn't going to tell him. It wasn't exactly as if it was any of his business, in either case. After all, she was still her own woman, and neither of them had exactly gone out of their way to clarify their relationship.

As far as Minami could tell, and as far as she was concerned, she was a convenience more than anything. A woman who kept the bed warm. He might have some sort of fond feeling for her, but it was the furthest thing imaginable from an exclusive relationship. He probably brought plenty of other women home with him before her, and probably brought others home when she wasn't around.

That she hadn't seen any occurred to her, but it didn't much matter. When he clarified their relationship, then she would a.s.sume that it wasn't just catch-as-catch-can. Until then, he was the scoundrel between them. All she was doing was keeping her family from coming down on her hard. It was only because she allowed these little interferences that she had the freedom she had.

She slipped into bed and tried to avoid thinking too much about what was going to happen the next day. Whatever he'd set up, it was just going to be another ha.s.sle, and she didn't want to have to deal with it, but that didn't change anything. That didn't mean that she had to mope over it, though.

She dressed an hour before she was supposed to go downstairs, made sure her hair was straight and attractive, and went down to wait. The other man came alone, which was unusual. He was older than her, as well, but his hair still had all its color. Yakuza had their pride, but they wouldn't have dyed their hair to keep up appearances. The age added something of an air of authority, as far as Minami was able to tell.

He was wearing traditional clothes; if he was going to wear traditional clothes, Minami would have rather known in advance, because now she looked the foolish one in her American clothes, no matter how nice.

"This is Patriarch Kondo Inafune," her father said, gravely. The man in front of her set his hands on his knees and bowed his head. "Patriarch Inafune, this is my daughter, Minami."

Minami bowed, as well. Inafune was more attractive than Higa had been. She couldn't see herself marrying him, no more than she could see herself marrying any Yakuza. But it didn't feel like it was an insult this time, at least. She straightened back up.

"Nice to meet you," she said softly.

"The pleasure is all mine." There was an air of quiet confidence in the man, one that might have been attractive if not for his profession. "Chairman, your daughter is very beautiful."

Minami's father nodded his head solemnly. Minami wanted nothing more than to get this over with, but it continued. She spoke little. She had no special desire to get to know the man, but he seemed to take it better than she might have expected. He must have interpreted it as demure, she thought, rather than trying her best to distance herself. Or perhaps he didn't mind.

Either way, when he left an hour later, it was with a promise of returning the day after next-when he'd take her out for real, to a proper dinner, and they could get to truly know each other before making any sort of promises.

Minami wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

Twenty.

Wes "I need your help." Wes could see from the look in her eyes exactly how strange Minami thought that was, and she wasn't wrong to feel that way.

"Really? You, Wes Park, need my help? With what, exactly?"

"I have to convince my boss I'm good to fight."

"Well, Wes-I hate to tell you this, but you almost certainly aren't okay to fight. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like a mess!"

"That's not important. I need the money, so I need to fight. It's that simple."

"You're going to get yourself killed. No."

Wes's teeth ground together. "You're not my mother."

Minami's expression turned from one of amused insistence to annoyance d.a.m.n fast. "No, I'm not, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you go out and kill yourself, for what? For money?"