The Devil Inside (6 page)

“Fuck.” I exhale, then think twice and drop the cigarette on the ground, crushing it under my shoe. Maybe it is time to quit the smokes.

What the hell is wrong with me?

This was supposed to be a business visit; a quick explanation to the manager about what happened last night, warning him to call Masa or myself if Lucini’s people return and things get out of hand.
 

Instead, I end up following my dick.
 

I’m not used to this kind of thing. She’s not easy, this Adele. Dealing with women is not normally a problem for me. My days in Japan were filled with one night stands with beautiful predators who hid behind a demure facade. It’s a certain kind of woman who’s drawn to the world of the yakuza.
 

They wanted exactly what I wanted and neither of us ever lingered afterwards.
 

With my reputation, I wasn’t exactly relationship material.
 

Since coming to America, I’ve gone under the radar, acting quiet, reserved, every inch the Japanese professional. I have my reasons. There are people who would be happy if they heard I was dead or in jail.
 

Until this goddamn Adele comes along with her perfect face and bee-stung, cherry lips and mesmerizing green eyes and I’m lusting after her like a fucking virgin schoolboy.

I should stop right now. She’s starting to ask questions I don’t want to answer.
 

Like who am I, really?

I don't know how I'm supposed to explain that.

Adele

On Sunday, I have a day off. I decide to make the morning my own, so I sleep in, have a slow breakfast and watch crap on the internet for a while. The bruise around my eye has started to turn yellow. Next it’ll go green, before eventually fading.

Gross.

Having a giant, multicolored patch around one’s left eye isn’t glamorous.

At least it’s not as painful anymore.

I’ve got the apartment to myself. Dio’s gone to some tech conference in Silicon Valley for the week so I can lounge around in an oversized t-shirt, wearing only my panties. I know; I'm a slob.

It’s good to relax.
 

I’m half asleep on the couch, basking in the warm mid-morning sunshine when my phone vibrates.
 

Adi, pls come over. Dad in trouble.

Not again. A bad feeling uncoils in the pit of my stomach.

If Gavin has done anything stupid with that five thousand dollars I gave him, I'm going to kill him.
 

I sigh. So much for lounging around in comfort on my day off. I get dressed and call a cab. Normally, I take the bus, but in this case, time is an issue. When the driver drops me off at my family's house, there's a black Porsche parked out front.
 

I'm pretty sure we don't know anyone who drives a Porsche.
 

That bad feeling from earlier has morphed into dread.

I creep in through the open doorway and hear raised voices coming from the kitchen. On silent feet, I peer around the corner. I freeze. Gavin is seated at the kitchen table with two men. Mom and Mina are nowhere to be seen.
 

Dad has his head bowed. One of the men has laid a gun on the table.
 

"Listen, Johnny," he pleads. "I'll get your money. I just need more time."

"Time's up, Gavin." The man named Johnny leans forward. Even sitting down, I can tell he's a huge guy. His hulking frame seems to fill the entire room. His counterpart is the opposite; whip thin, but no less scary.

He has a shaved head and small, mean eyes that dart around like he's restless. "The agreement was one month. We've been plenty generous. And what do you do? Go and get into more fucking debt." Johnny's voice is soft and laced with the promise of violence. My dad looks pale, his eyes sunken. He seems small and weak, a tired echo of the man I remember.
 

"We are not a fucking pension scheme, Gavin. I hate the term loan shark, but that is what we are. Loan, meaning that is not your money. Shark, meaning, if you don't pay what I ask, we will fucking eat you alive."

Johnny reaches for the gun laid on the table. He plays with it, making a show of taking the safety off and cocking it. "Now, I'm a reasonable man, Gavin." He smirks. "And I know there's more than one way to pay back what's owed. You have a beautiful daughter there. What's she now; fifteen, sixteen? I'm sure we could find work for her. She'll help you pay off the debt in no time."

"Leave my family out of this." My father raises his head and summons the last bit of his anger. His voice cracks. "I'll do whatever you want, but you leave them alone."

"Should have thought about all that before you went to Vegas, Gavin." As Johnny speaks, his partner stands and moves behind Gavin. He wears a cruel smile.
 

"So what's it going to be, Gavin? Let your daughter come and work for us, or should we make an example of you?" He pulls a mean looking switchblade from his pocket. "She's upstairs, isn't she? I don't think she'd enjoy hearing you scream."

I don't wait to hear what dad's going to say next. I step into the kitchen. This has gotten out of hand, and there's no way I'm letting these assholes near my baby sister.
 

"I can get you the rest of the money," I blurt. The two intruders look in my direction.
 

"Who the fuck are you?" Johnny eyes me with obvious interest. I'm getting sick and tired of that sleazy look.
 

"I'm his daughter." I can barely bring myself to look in dad's direction. I'm not doing this for him; I'm doing this for mom and Mina.
 

Johnny's laugh has a ring of disbelief. "Gavin, how does a dipshit like you end up with two beautiful girls like this? You sure you're the father? Though this one looks like she's a scrapper." I know my black eye looks hideous. There wasn't time to put on foundation before I left the house.

"Adele, what are you doing here?" Gavin's shoulders are slumped. All life has been sapped from him. Dark circles ring baleful eyes that are the exact same shade of brown as my own. There's no question I'm his daughter. "This is none of your business."

"Of course it's my business," I snap. "I told you I didn't want anything happening to mom or Mina. You were supposed to give them the advance and ask for more time. What happened to that money?"

Gavin looks down. He doesn't say a word.

His reaction tells me all I need to know.

Johnny walks over with slow steps until he's standing beside me. "Everyone knows you don't give money to a guy with a gambling problem," he says, his voice soft. "Especially one who's desperate." He turns to my dad, who won't make eye contact with me. "Now why did you go and spend your daughter's hard earned cash, Gavin? Thought you could win big and make all this go away?"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I should have known better. Disappointment twists my insides. "He didn't give you that money."

"No." Johnny's so close I can smell stale garlic on his breath. He bends over to whisper in my ear. "You know we'll have to make an example of him if the money isn't paid back. Maybe you could avoid that by working for us, instead of your sister."

I shudder. I think I know what that "work" means. They'll put me in a porno or in one of their brothels and figure out a way to keep me there. There's no way I'm letting these guys make money off my body.

I'm trying my best to keep my face blank, but my mind's racing. Where can I get twenty grand in a hurry?
 

I've got nothing valuable to sell, I can't get a loan with my job and there's no way I'm bringing Dio into all of this.
 

"I told you, I can get the money." I step back out of Johnny's reach. "But you're going to have to wait. Give me some time. Please.”

“I’ll extend the deadline by a week, girl,” snarls Johnny. “And I’m being plenty generous, but that’s only because I like you. Don’t get the cash by then, there’ll be consequences.”

“I’ll get you the money,” I assure him, my voice full of confidence. It’s all a big lie. The truth is, I have no
 
idea how I’m going to come up with twenty thousand dollars in just one week.

I’m screwed.

Adele

When I arrive at work the next evening, I find it hard to focus. The shift starts out badly as I drop a stack of empty plates. They clatter across the floor, leftover pieces of sushi and droplets of soy sauce going everywhere.

Lucky they’re plastic.

Customers turn to stare at me and I mumble a hasty apology.

Rei comes rushing to my rescue. “You okay, Adele?” She pulls out a damp cloth. “Why don’t you go out back and take a break. Make yourself a cup of tea. I’ll clean this up.”

“I’m fine.” I start picking up the mess, but my hands are shaking. Rei gives me a long, pointed stare. I sigh. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

I disappear into the staff area, heading straight for the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, I splash cold water on my face. The bruise around my eye has faded to an ugly brownish-yellow color. At least it’s healing. It’s not as tender anymore, and I’ve gotten better at covering it with foundation.
 

Rei finds me several minutes later. I’m sitting in the stuffy little office at the back, staring at the wall. Thoughts of Gavin’s debt and mom and Mina’s safety are swirling in my mind, but I feel numb, paralyzed. I have no idea what I’m going to do.

Rei puts a small, gentle hand on my shoulder. “What’s bothering you, Adele? You’ve been acting strange all morning. And don’t try and pretend you don’t have a big bruise around that eye. It’s obvious, even with all the make-up.”

Blunt as usual, bless her.
 

I lean forward, putting my head into my hands. “Someone I know is in trouble, Rei. I need a lot of money quickly, and I’m stuck.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “What am I supposed to do now? Rob a bank?”

Rei frowns. “Are you sure this is your responsibility, Adele? Sounds an awful lot like you’re taking the fall for someone.”

“It’s family. I’ve got no choice. I’m desperate.” I look up, meeting her gaze. Rei lets out a deep breath. She nods in understanding. We both know that when family’s involved, you do anything. Even if you didn’t get into the mess, even they’re in the wrong, you do whatever it takes to keep them safe.
 

I can’t let anything happen to Mina and mom.

Rei stares at me for a while, weighing something up in her mind. “I know a way you can make a lot of cash quickly,” she says, after a long silence. “It’s not ideal, but it’s not the worst thing you could do, either. With your looks, you’d have no problem.”

“Go on,” I murmur, not liking where this is heading. But I don’t have a choice.

“Do you know what a hostess bar is, Adele?”
 

I shake me head, eyes wide. I haven’t heard the term before, but I think I have an idea of what this might involve.

“I’ll show you after work. Mama-san is just going to love you. But it’s up to you to decide if you can do that kind of work. It’s not for everyone, you know.”
 

Adele

It’s almost eleven by the time we finish at Fat Dragon. Rei and I pile into her car, a blue, older style Volkswagen Golf. Soon we’re downtown, navigating the few blocks that make up Little Tokyo.
 

I haven’t been here for years. It hasn’t changed much from the way I remember it. We pass by quaint shopfronts with delicate tiled roofs. A string of bright, red lanterns adorns a peaceful laneway, peppered with tiny, manicured trees.

I feel like we’re not even in LA anymore.

Rei finds a narrow parking space and we make our way along the street, passing doorways signposted in English and Japanese. We pass cheap hotels, restaurants and small boutiques, closed for the night, their windows dark.
 

She stops at a very ordinary looking entrance. There are no bright lights, no welcoming signs. Just a small plaque at the side with the words
Black Rose
and something written underneath it in Japanese.

Rei stops inside the entrance. She takes my hair out of its ponytail, arranging it around my face. “That’s better.” She pulls out a compact and dusts the area around my eye. “You don’t need much else.”

“Uh, okay.” I blink powder out of my eye and we climb the narrow stairs. I can hear the dull thud of bass reverberating through the thin walls. The stale, familiar scent of old tobacco smoke is strangely comforting.
 

We enter through a heavy glass door, and I find myself in a large, dimly lit space. Discreet booths line the walls. The room is crowded. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses trickles through a pounding beat.

What the hell is this place?

Rei leans over, struggling to be heard above the music. “See those girls? They get paid to serve drinks and make conversation.”
 

I look around and notice that at each table, there are one or two scantily clad women seated with their male guests. Alcohol is flowing, but it’s the men who are drinking. The girls smile demurely and play along, but their eyes are hard and calculating.
 

“If you’re, good you can make thousands in a night.” Rei leads us over to the bar. “It’s all about the tips.”

She motions to the bartender, a petite Japanese girl wearing a long sleeved white shirt and black bow tie. Rei orders a dry martini. I go for a club soda. I’m nervous, but I don’t want to risk an alcoholic drink. I tend to talk a lot more when I’m tipsy. I always end up saying something stupid.
 

The bartender and Rei exchange something in Japanese, and soon we’re being led through a back entrance, down a corridor illuminated by harsh, fluorescent lights. I peer into one of the doorways and see what looks like a dressing room. My reflection blurs as we follow the bartender. I’m wearing a plain black tee and a comfortable old pair of black skinny jeans, my usual work uniform. Compared to the girls I saw serving drinks in the lounge, I feel underdressed and ordinary.